#also no worries (?) it's not The Big Bad Thing. I think.

[honey-tongued-devil]

HEYY

i saw the vi x chubby user and as a chubby girl I NEED more of the girlies x chubby user. please 🙀

[Arcane preference (girlies)] with a chubby s/o

I made you wait so long for nothing, I’m sorry if it’s short, BUT I haven’t forgotten about you!

Jinx:

- Forget that thing called “personal space.”

- If you want to sleep with her, you’ll be the little spoon, and she’ll even throw herself on top of you. She loves feeling human warmth, and with a partner with more body mass, it’s not painful to stay in a long embrace because no (or almost no) bones are attacking her.

- She pinches your love handles and thighs, then bursts out laughing. It's done with tenderness, she loves it to bits, and it’s something extremely rare in Zaun.

- If you can't find anything your size, she'll sew it for you from leftover fabric, or by beating up a passerby to steal their clothes. Either way, you don’t have to worry.

- If you even try to say the words "lose weight," she’ll furrow her brow, deeply offended: you’re hers, and if you lose mass, she has less of you for herself, which means you’re trying to take something from her.

- Which means for the following week, she’ll do everything to make you eat more, terrified that you might lose weight.

Vi:

- What’s the point of being so strong if not to lift you into her arms effortlessly?

- She makes you stay on her back while doing push-ups, carries you to the bedroom, and holds you on her lap on the couch.

- She’s a fighter, not a coward. If she can’t lift you, it’s not that you weigh too much, but that she’s too weak. And within three days, she’ll make sure she fixes this shortcoming.

- But it never actually happens. Vi never misses an opportunity to show you how strong she is and how special you are.

- When you talk under the blankets, she often loses herself playing with your soft spots, almost as if she’s relaxing.

Caytlin:

- She sits on your lap, but if you want, you can sit on her without any issues.

- She loves your body to bits, and if you try to hide it, she might put on a little show just to take off your shirt and enjoy what you were hiding, like your belly.

- Clothes aren’t a problem; she’ll have them made so that they not only fit you but also highlight your best features.

- No jokes here—when you go out together, she wants the world to see how proud she is of her partner and how attractive they are. So, she takes care of your preparation herself, even stealing a kiss here and there, but letting you choose what you want to wear.

Mel:

- She has a personal tailor who makes coordinated outfits for every occasion. She can’t let you look bad, and she wouldn’t want to, so she personally ensures every detail reflects you.

- She knows what you like and dislike, so she can correct the sketches herself, so when the clothes arrive, they’ll be a complete surprise.

- When you're in public, she likes to sit on your lap, if the occasion is casual enough to allow it. Otherwise, she’ll leave subtle lipstick marks on you before leaving, just enough to discreetly remind people you’re with her.

- She likes being the little spoon, feeling protected and vulnerable at least in one place, even though, subconsciously, she changes position while she sleeps. But in any case, feeling your softness against her gives her comfort.

Sevika:

- Think you’re big? Be more humble.

- She lifts you like you’re a little bunny, carries you around on her shoulder, takes you to bed in her arms, and constantly pulls you onto her lap, always keeping one hand on your waist.

- She loves skin-to-skin contact, and she’s strong enough to lift you completely onto her shoulders, with your back against the wall, and hold you like that until her ‘hunger’ passes (or until you can’t take it anymore).

- She’s still terrified of hurting you, so she always keeps you on the side of her good arm, so she doesn’t damage your body with her prosthetic limb.

- When you’re resting, she pulls you completely up onto her, no matter how tall or heavy you are, constantly reminding you that she’s big and strong enough.

[lovemomhatepolice]

jj maybank nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

BEFORE YOU START READING: THERE IS A SPOILER OF SEASON 4 AT THE BOTTOM, SO IF YOU WANT TO AVOID IT, DON'T READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Before JJ got involved with you, he was hardly the type to pay attention to aftercare. All the girls that came before were either only for one night or he didn't care enough about them to be concerned about what would come after their intercourse. It was the same for their part, so sex alone was enough. However, when he met you and your first intercourse occurred, JJ felt he had to do something more. Since then, he talks to you for a long time afterwards, you go to take a bath together to embrace each other after intercourse, and he is even more clingy than always

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Oh, JJ is a big fan of his body. He is well aware that he is damn handsome and has a well-sculpted body, so he often shows it off. And in you? JJ appreciates everything, really. He loves your hands, because he can grab them when he wants and intertwine his fingers with yours. He loves your lips, which he could kiss over and over again. He loves your thighs, which he keeps lying on and squeezing them. But you can't take away from the fact that he's pussy drunk. What the heck, but JJ loves your pussy the most and whenever he gets the chance, he's in it or by it. That's it

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Creampie!!! Has anyone heard this? CREAMPIE! JJ loves, adores, well normally he would give up everything just for the sight of you with your combined juices flowing out of your pussy

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) JJ doesn't have too many dirty secrets, maybe some kind of triangle? Or I don't know, an orgy? Just kidding. JJ is able to give up everything just for that, until you finally dominate him to the max like that. Mostly he is the one who dominates, but every night he dreams about it until you finally do it

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Let's not lie to ourselves, JJ is a bit of an Outer Banks man whore, so his experience is quite high. The way he works his tongue, his fingers, let alone his cock, oh god. God of sex, there's no denying it

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Cowgirl. JJ loves your breasts and the fact that he has them in full glory in front of him in this position is downright addictive to him. He can touch them, suck them, kiss them. Likewise, he has great access to your face, which he loves to look at and see your face contorted in the pleasure you both give each other. Plus, I've already mentioned how much he dreams of you dominating him. And this position falls a bit under that, especially when he doesn't help you from below and you can lead you to orgasm alone

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) This is JJ, everyone knows his being clumsy in life. It's the same in bed. Many things amuse him and his mouth doesn't close during your intercourse. He was even amused by the way the spring in the couch at John B's house flew out when he just happened to be taking you from behind. Well, John B was not amused by that….

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) JJ has a lot of hair on his head and legs, so I think he's not completely shorn there either. But so that it's not sloppy and kept in order. As for you, I think he would also prefer it not to be thick there. Although too often it lands between your legs to worry about silly hair. As long as it's hygienic and the rest he doesn't care. And I even think that some patterning would excite him

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Yes, as I mentioned - since he is with you, he has seen that being romantic in life is not bad at all. And although he sometimes fails (he almost burned down the Chateau when he tried to make a romantic evening with candles), he still tries. He likes to chic you romantic baths, admittedly in the Jacuzzi, but you don't complain. Bubbles, cheap wine and JJ, who is all over you, is all you need.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Maybank is still an excitable teenager and often thinks with his dick, so he needs to shake off the feeling that still holds him down. Most of the time then he finds himself immediately around you so you can help him, but when you're really not there and you can't give him yourself, well, he's left to masturbate to your pictures, which he has in a special folder. Or the videos you amateurishly recorded one day for fun

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) I don't know if you can call it kink, but JJ often likes to have sex with you in public. That is, it's not strange for him to suddenly have sex in the sea or do you good on the boat when you were originally supposed to go “fishing”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere, really. JJ has the “I can here and now” method, really, it's not even a joke anymore. If only you are ready, he is able to do anything just to get inside you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Just you. JJ sees you and already has a problem in his pants. Well, what can I say? He's totally pussy whipped and all it takes is one nod from you and he's already ready for action. Your presence in the same room already has him even begging so he can have sex with you or at least touch you a little bit

A/N: part two will be here soon! (If anyone wants me to tag them - let me know in the comments) I will be terribly pleased if you reblogged it :) Of course, if you liked it! I want to create a larger Outer Banks community here, because for now I have reached a small number of this fandom

SPOILER: as you already know, season 4 left us in despair and grief after JJ's death. however, I am not going to stop writing about him. love you JJ, rest in peace sunshine :(

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[alexanderwales]

The soda jar predated me, so I gave it a wide berth, and didn't bring it up often. It was big and plastic, and had once contained cheese puffs, so more of a barrel than a jar. It said "SODA" in big block letters that had been shaded in. I didn't ask about it. Besides, I had switched over to only drinking water years ago, with a few rare exceptions, and game night wasn't one of them, at least not at first.

Whenever someone wanted a soda, they would grab it from the fridge, and then they would put money into the soda jar. There was a little sign below the big "SODA" on it, and I tried not to look too interested, because it would be weird to go to a friend's house and say "hey, what the hell is this".

But by the fourth night I was feeling like I belonged there, so I read the fine print. It was a list of sodas and how much each of them cost.

"You want a soda?" asked Roger.

"Uh," I said. "No, I have water."

"You want soda, just grab it from the fridge, prices are on the jar," he said.

I had a sense that this was a Social Encounter, and that I was on the verge of failing it, but I had to know, so I asked.

"Why?"

Roger turned to look at me, then he frown at the jar. "Just ... you know. Keep things fair?"

I nodded a bit. "But I mean ..."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"No, it's just," I said. "Like, how much does a soda cost?"

"It's on the jar," said Roger, pointing at the jar.

"Right," I said. "But we're all adults, we all have jobs, the cost is like ... a rounding error, right?"

Roger shrugged. "It's about being fair."

"Right, right," I said. "It's just ... if someone wants a soda, then they go to the minifridge, and then they have to have money on them, and have to look at the price, and then pay that price into the soda jar, which seems like ..." I held up a hand. "I mean, it's how you do things, I guess."

"Right," said Roger with a frown. "I mean, how would you do it?"

"I would just ... have people bring in soda?" I said. "I would go to Costco and get a big thing of it, and then just ... it's like, how much could it possibly be?"

"It adds up," said Roger.

"Right, but it also adds down, doesn't it," I said.

"What the hell does that mean?" asked Roger. He was frowning at me, and it was hard to tell whether this was good-natured curious frowning or if I was annoying him.

"There's like ... a lot of overhead, a lot of cognitive, social, emotional sort of friction, right?" I asked. "Having things for people to drink is casual hospitality, and if you're doing it this way, then you have to update the pricing sheet, and you have to have everyone be thinking about things, and ... I just think in the scheme of things it's just ... I don't mean to offend you by way of criticizing this system."

"People should pay their fair share," said Roger, like he was stuck in a loop, or like he was an NPC repeating his dialogue.

"I am suggesting a communist regime wherein we do not worry too much about that and, because the costs are nominal compared to wages, we do not track or worry about prices," I said. "I mean, I don't want to assume that other people are like ... comfortably wealthy, but if anyone is worried about a few dollars for soda, then yeah, I'll just pay their way and we don't need to talk about it or acknowledge it."

"You're offering to pay for the whole group?" asked Roger.

I considered that. "I'm saying that I would bring in a big cube of it and then someone else could bring in a big cube next time."

"Some kind of rotating schedule?" asked Roger. "Like, a roster of whose turn it is?"

"No," I said. "No, the whole point is ... I mean the point is that we shouldn't need a system, we're adults, soda is, in addition to being super bad for you, very cheap, and we shouldn't care about having any kind of system, we should just have faith that it'll work itself out."

"Okay," said Roger. "But like ... what if it doesn't? I buy soda, people drink all the soda, then no one gets more, so I get more, and people drink it, and then there's no soda again."

"I don't know," I said. "We could talk about it like adults?"

"Or we could just have a sign," said Roger.

And then our break was over, and I hated that I let him get the last word, but I also sort of knew that I wasn't going ever quite be comfortable in that group. Maybe Roger had been burned before, maybe he had been burned a lot, but the soda jar suffused the feeling of the whole group, and I could tell that I was never going to get them out of the soda jar mindset.

[yanmuffins]

Warning: bad english ,sorry it's not my first language.

I read a bit of the link you sent because I really don't know anything about this game 😅 but I think it would make more sense (to me) if the reader was in the rose clan. Since they are good at seducing people, the reader would perhaps react better towards them than the sword clan, aka the blue bloods, who are politicians, CEOs and who would make her think too much of her family maybe. I think it also depends on whether reader wants to compete (secretly or not) with Tim and/or Damian to run the Wayne company .

I believe that she would also be a more interesting pawn for the Roses' clan than that Swords clan because the latter would immediately see that she will not bring many advantages because she's kind the black sheep of the family. They probably already have plenty of people who have connections with high society and so they will be more disdainful towards her because she is ordinary compared to the rest of the batfam.

On the other hand, in my opinion the rose clan will actively try to please her because she would surely be the first access for them to high society. And the clan would probably train her so she can esaily talk to the big shoes and invest on them. In fact , I would really like to see a reader who masters the art of rizz like his father. I think that it would be funny that one day ,she participate in a gala and all the batfam become dumbfound when they see that the most calm and unnoticeable member of their family is now surronded by these haughy people 'cause she's kind of seduce,flatter them before for the benefit of her company.

context &. context.

another team toreador anon!! hello!! (=´∇｀=)

the consensus is that the ventrue clan would shun reader because they are not favored by bruce. while i think this notion isn't incorrect, reader's embrace is more strategic than anything, meaning that it is good that she's not favored by bruce and overlooked by her family. and they can see that is the case when she, daughter of the bruce wayne, traverses gotham freely without a single bodyguard or even a call from her father to check on her well-being when she's out so late.

in other circumstances, she would be disdained. but there's ulterior motives at play, and she's a good candidate.

therefore, they're not counting on anyone questioning her whereabouts or personal life, making it perfect for them to just snatch her up, turn her and introduce her to her new reality as a vampire. but it just happened that now the waynes are worried about the black sheep of the family, which put a damper on their plans.

but i do think she would bloom in the rose clan (pun intended). as has been said, they're experts of seduction. they're actually no strangers to money and status! they may not all come from the top 1%, but even when they're not rich and influential themselves, chances are they are attached to someone who is. but you are right, anon, vampire! reader is kinda is their golden ticket to gotham high-society...

don't want to delve into that too much, but reader will go through many changes after she mets her sire, some before she is turned into a vampire and some after. we will have cunty reader, i promise you. and the toreador is known for being a clan of enthralling, often deadly social butterflies, and it's not uncommon for them to be surrounded by admirers. vampire! reader would learn many things from them.

not that they can teach her anything the batfam would like.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Onstage

What - it's nothing to panic about, Lori's secret pregnancy, Shane's changes for the worse, Sophia gone for over a week, and now a barn full of walkers. It's fine. No big deal, nothing is wrong, so you're gonna step onstage and act like it. On the bright side, Daryl isn't stuck in a bed anymore!

When - the morning after Keep this dog asleep. (the night where Glenn discovers the barn in Season 2)

Who - this is part of the Slowpoke Series, which is a canon compliant slow burn Reader x Daryl. You're also Shane's younger sibling

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots

References - lots, y'all, want the Masterlist?

Length - longer bc I've been awol, I've been dreading posting again, friends, so thank you much for reading. Kind feedback is always welcome :)

“Goodness. You two slept together.”

“Wha—Carol!” you squeak, accidentally splashing some coffee on your hands while you’re at it, to which Carol apologizes, “Oops!”

Glenn and you fell asleep beside each other, by the fire pit. You two must have conked out while staring at the barn.

Brr, the sun hasn’t warmed the day yet, you’re like an ice-pop.

“Wh’appened?” Glenn mumbles, still half-asleep in Dale’s camp chair.

Carl, freshly freed from the house and now officially back to the tents, also wanted to know, “What was the joke?”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Carol whispers in your ear and wipes the coffee off your hand with a tissue she had in her pocket.

That ship has sailed, Carol!

Lori smiles and shakes her head, and hands Glenn a coffee cup. “Carol was teasing them about having spent the night out here. Must’ve stayed up far too late having fun.”

“‘Fun,’” Glenn groans to himself, blindly nursing his coffee. You notice he winces and reaches for the back of his neck when he tries to bend it forward. Must’ve slept on it wrong.

“How late did you guys stay up?”

“I don’t even know, little man,” you answer Carl while reaching out for a hug. “But ‘far too late’ sure is correct.”

He returns your reach and hugs you back, tucking his head down across your neck like he used to when he was little. You press a kiss to his temple and hold him awhile longer, not wanting to let go first.

It’s good to have started the day on an up-note. You’re already on guard this morning. Less so about the genuine, bona-fide barn full of walkers on the property and moreso that Glenn won’t keep the secret long enough.

Which is backwards, but…the worry is that Shane will, um, and, and— oh God, and Carl can’t go near it! What are you gon—

“—Here, Maggie left these for you two.” Lori has returned and plunks down what resembles an Easter basket filled with peaches.

“Wait, should you be lifting heav—” Glenn cuts himself off, apparently having woken up a brain cell and remembering the pregnancy is still a secret.

You run onstage and speak up for Lori. “That’s how her arms stay so toned. Can you believe she hand-whipped the cream for the ambrosia?” Solid improv.

Lori seems to tamp down on whatever frustration she’s feeling. “It’s not heavy, Glenn.”

“Mom can lift so much, that puny basket of peaches is nothing,” Carl tells him, apparently thinking Glenn was being silly.

Rattled, it takes a moment before Lori recalls what she was talking about. “Maggie also gave us a bucket filled with tomatoes along with another big bowl of eggs. We have to find a way to thank them. They’ve done so much.” She sighs. “Even last night, we cooked the meal, but they provided the food. Meat, even. All we contributed food-wise was the field green salad and the two cans of creamed corn.”

You’ve got to keep it to yourself that by not revealing the Greene’s massive secret about a barn full of walkers, you’re certainly giving them some kind of fucked up recompense.

And like you said last night, there are worse things to be bribed with than food. In fact, you have no immediate plans to do anything other than sit here, miserably tired, in T-Dog’s camp chair and stress-eat peaches — and stick close to Glenn lest he get the urge to open Pandora’s box about that barn.

“Carl, Miss Patricia hopefully mentioned how the barn is unstable? They won’t even go near it, and we are forbidden.” You swipe a peach and have at it. The juice dribbles down your hand and chin. Carl smirks. You snort; at least he’s seen you look grosser. So, in a very ladylike fashion, you shove the rest of it in your mouth in one bite and immediately swipe another. “There’s some kind of vermin problem, too, and you don’t want none of them diseases rats and the like carry. Keep away.”

Mid-chew, you realize that you just lied flawlessly by slipping in truth. You’re not big on lying. In fact, you hate it. You don’t do it, or, at least you think you don’t? Do you?

This and the weight of last night’s inward decision that you made sits heavy in your stomach, making the peach sink like a rock.

You’re going to leave, with your brother. Shane can’t stay here, not when the news of the baby and now the barn gets out. You’ll even go to Fort Benning despite all your misgivings. Anything to keep things from imploding here when those secrets get out. Not, um, not that you’ll stay away forever from the group, just until, um…

Well, if looks are any indication, Glenn’s also busy being miserably tired and stressed. He was the one to discover the barn’s secret, first off. And he’s not good with secrets, and now has three to contend with. The pregnancy, Shane losing his temper and physically hurting you. And now, the stupid, stupid, awful barn.

“Did your head flop down when you fell asleep, Glenn?”

“It must’ve, it’s so stiff!” he mutters. “I can’t have a stiff neck when the…”

Smart, he knows not to finish the sentence and instead resumes warily eyeing the barn. You’re grateful your neck is fine and dandy, you’re in no fit state to mess up your neck or shoulder again. For real, by the grace of God, you’d fallen asleep nestled in T-Dog’s camp chair and your neck stayed blessedly straight and untwisted.

“We search for Sophia in groups, it’s all good,” you cover for him. Carl is still next to you, so the fewer questions, the better.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but you’re restless. Seeking something to busy your hands with, you think to yourself you know what? Your friend could use a massage. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, considering you slept together (lol).

Shoving the rest of the second peach in your mouth, you consider that slurping the juice off your hand may be a mite untoward, so instead you…wipe it on the clothes you wore all day yesterday and fell asleep in…such a feminine, classy woman. Didn’t even brush your teeth last night.

Whatever, a neck and shoulder rub is the least you can do for a friend you may not see again. “Glenn, I can do you a massage,” you offer.

“Wait. Really?”

“’Course.” Let’s face it, you may not see him again after you leave. Maybe no one here, just look at the track record of losing peop — oh my gosh, crybaby much? Get your butt back onstage and act fine.

“Can you, with your arm still wrapped like that?” he checks regarding your modified sling.

“Sure can.”

“Dude, that would be, like,” Glenn sighs, then you hear Lori call for Carl, who gets up and goes to his mother. “Thank you, that would be awesome, it hurts really bad,” your friend accepts.

“Eh, it’s the least I could do, considering last night we did,” pause for dramatic effect, “sleep together.”

“What the f—”

“—Bro, I know.," you drone. "That’s what Carol joked about a few minutes ago. Didn’t expect that joke outta her, right?”

“Slept together, now I get it,” he cracks up halfheartedly. But in an instant, his gaze gets drawn right back toward the barn and resettles into uneasy, blatant stare.

That rattles you. Suddenly, you become convinced he’s gonna spill the beans before the one week (at least one week!) trial. For a few moments, you feel breathless, as in you can’t inhale enough. That happened last night, too, you figured it was because of the cold air.

You cough, inhale extra deep. The sensation goes away. But now you’re starting to get mad. As you rise from the chair, you’re more than conscious of your inner kettle beginning to simmer. Not gonna lie, you sound snotty when you comment, “Glad to see they didn’t learn how to jump as high as a hayloft and find their way out yet.”

“Y/N.”

In lieu of any new comeback, you start on his neck. Immediately and likely without meaning to, he lets out a thankful groan. That warms you, and you remind yourself he’s worried for a good reason and that you love your friend.

And, strangely, then you think back to how you did this for Daryl, gave him a massage. How pleasant the closeness felt, how strange it made your stomach feel. How he’d silently cried but was vulnerable enough to ask you not to stop…

And with the jokes about you and Glenn, you’re feeling some unpleasantly conflicting emotions. Full disclosure, you’d had some hidden and very unwelcome hurt feelings when you found out about him and Maggie. Residual, you reckon, from when you’d two had a little fondness (lol Dale) for each other.

Really, you know it’s just that you’re lonely and things are stressful. Ugh, more than stressful.

“Wanna kick the ball around later with the others, see if the girls can’t beat y’all this time?” Together, Jimmy and he have been an unbeatable team so far, and you three girls want to change that.

“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”

You’d forgotten all about that. It’s supposed to feature none other than Glenn, Maggie, yourself, and maybe T-Dog. “That’s still on?”

Glenn shrugs. “I don’t remember. And I don’t want to go today, let’s do it tomorrow or Monday.”

“Fine by me. Naught dire we need yet.”

He unexpectedly exhales in pleasure when you must’ve hit a spot he needs worked out.“I haven’t gotten a massage since, like,” your friend sighs again, and he sounds weighed down when he continues. “Varsity baseball in high school. Appa was really good at shoulder rubs.”

“Oh.” A memory about his dad might will probably spark a whole lot of memories, and he’s still iffy about crying in front of people. “Want me to stop?”

“Heck no.”

“Are you cool with crying? Massages sometimes do that,” you hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant the act itself can make folk cry sometimes.” Especially if memories get brought up.

“Make ‘folk’ cry?” he teases. "You already used the word 'naught,' too, bumpkin."

You pause the massage to give him a very light shove. “Shut up.”

Breakfast is eggs again, you can smell them cooking. The Greenes have been very generous with eggs. And, of course, now extra-generous with the peaches and some tomatoes, apparently. Maybe the thrill of yellow squash or string beans is in the future, too.

Ooh, or dairy. Oh my gosh, or red meat! Jimmy mentioned they’ve made a ton of jerky what with all their cattle.

“G’morning,” you hear Shane behind you.

“Heya.”

“Morning, Shane.”

The razzing is clear in his tone of voice, but try telling that to Glenn as your brother says, “Lookin’ cute, you two. Didn’t know this was a thing now, I thought that ship had sailed.”

Yeahhhhh, Glenn wriggles away from your hands quicker than you can whine, “Shaney!” who simply cracks up, “Just teasing.”

“I’ll tease your face,” you wish you weren’t snickering back. “And you know my heart belongs to darling Theodore,” you add in an exaggerated accent.

T-Dog, unfortunately, hears, and utters a soft “Da hell?” aaand you cackle even harder. Surely he knows the not-so-secret secret that you think he’s a catch? Too old for you, but, like. What a gem.

“Glenn, my apologies.” Shane winks. “It’s too easy to rile this one up. And Dog, don’t worry.”

“It’s cool,” Glenn answers so awkwardly.

You scrunch your lips at your brother in an effort not to smile. He’s acting like himself again, the real Shane. You don’t feel as if you’re looking at a stranger, you don’t feel the urge to stay on-guard or stay onstage. “Proud of yourself?”

He shrugs with a lazy grin. “It is real easy to rile you up.”

“Mmhm, well I’m fixing to escape to Fort Benning right now, lemme just wash up first.” You insert this little seed in hope it takes root. He was planning to go there before things changed.

He was planning to go without your input or foreknowledge, too, but he was doing what he thought was best for the group. For Lori and Rick.

Until he didn’t anymore, according to what he said to Lori.

That night, the same day Daryl had almost died, was something else.

The things he said to Lori echo in your head, the confident flirting while she was visibly unreceptive and shaken.

Then you recall the way he’s been “pragmatic” and almost irritated about the continuing search for Sophia.

Then the way he blew up at you, hurt you.

And finally, how your first reaction to finding out there was a barn filled with walkers a mere one minute trek from where your people are sleeping in tents was to insist that the secret must be kept from Shane at all costs. That the secret had to stay that way because of what would happen if Shane found out.

Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine. You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.

“Lemme take over here — aw, Glenn, hey, sit back on down,” Shane insists to your friend who just tried to escape. “Heard you slept on your neck wrong. That shit stinks, man. But,” he holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers. “I got so much practice with massages from this one’s migraines, I might should switch careers. C’mon then,” he says lightheartedly.

The unease you just wrestled with lessens. This is the real Shane, the confident, even cocky, but goodhearted one.

Ooo, your breathing feels a little better, too. Cool!

He looks at you and points with his thumb toward the house. “The uh, the little one, what’s the blonde girl’s name again?”

“Soph—oh! Um, sorry, y-you mean ‘Beth,’” you stammer, all the mirth from a moment ago zapped.

The look in your brother’s eyes changes from easygoing to dampened to cold.

He tries to sound nonchalant behind a thin veil of both defense and offense. “Yeah, the, uh, the teenager. She asked for you.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You’d be off like a shot if there wasn’t another potential time bomb to worry about.

Glenn.

To your friend, you assure in truth, “He does give a mighty solid massage.” But when you lean over enough for him to see your face, you can feel your eyes darken when you hold the finger to your lips and set your jaw.

And as you make toward the house with your coffee and another two peaches, you’re grappling with the fact that, in an effort to keep Glenn quiet so everything won’t blow to pieces, you’re behaving not unlike the very person that you’re trying to prevent from igniting the explosion in the first place.

Another worry is the way you so easily slipped in and out of being onstage.

You’ve always been one to insist on truth and honesty. It’s a badge of honor you wear with pride, and even Daryl, prickly grump Daryl, has mentioned it and appreciates that about you.

And yet, look at your conduct over the past week or so. You can certainly lie, and be believable at it. You don’t like that.

Oh, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.

As you near the porch, Beth’s soft, clear voice calls your name, and she exits the house to meet you. “I got somethin’ for you. Can you come upstairs?”

“Sure. Your dress is cute!” comes out automatically. You’re still dazed and stressed. Her sundress really is pretty, though. Briefly, you consider how it would be nice to feel feminine again.

She leads you up the stairs, and it strikes you how odd it is that you have to go upstairs for whatever she’s going to give you, right? Then, you worry that it’s to do with the barn.

And you’re right.

Or, at least, you think you are. Maggie is upstairs when Beth brings you there.

The tightness comes back, so you focus on your breathing and will your stomach to chill out. You're onstage, you need to perform.

“Y/N, hi!” Margaret says this a little overly chipper, even though her appearance suggests that she’s had about as much shut-eye as you, if not less. “Sleep okay?”

“A-About as well as you, I reckon,” you answer with a hint of humor and only a trace of a stress stutter. Buying time with a few more coughs, before you get too defensive, you play it off as if Beth does not know that you and Glenn know. “We stayed up far too late and ate way too many peaches,” you say the girl. Which is the truth, you aren’t lying! You aren't lyi — nope, don't you cry! Stay onstage, stay onstage, stay onstage—

—As it so happens, now is when you recall how you are currently carrying two peaches in your hand, so your cheeks heat. The urge to cry goes away, so small win. “I ate way too many, at least.”

Beth giggles. “I love peaches, too. I had peach cobbler as my birthday cake two years ago. The ones we grow are so good!”

“Thank you for the basket of food, by the way, it was very kind.” Very kind bribery, please keep it up, we haven’t had this much available food in months, in fact, we’ll probably do anything you ask us if you let us stay here!

“There’s plenty more where the peaches came from. The season’s almost over, but we still have bushels left to pick, the hens haven’t slowed production yet, and we’re almost out of canning supplies we’ve done so many,” Maggie responds.

Beth is opening a big trash bag on her bed that looks like it’s filled with blankets, so Maggie takes the opportunity to lock eyes with you again. She mouths, “Thank you.”

For not saying anything? “She doesn’t know we know?” you mouth back.

She shakes her head.

You relax muscles you didn’t know you were tensing.

“Yay, I got it open without rippin' it!” Beth exclaims. “Y/N, Maggie and I had gathered up a bunch of clothes for charity, but that’s when things got, w-well,” she halts, unsure of how to describe the outbreaks. “The bad things happened, but, um, we, well, we still had all the donations bagged. Daddy and Shawn also…” She quiets at mentioning her deceased older brother and turns weepy.

Her big sister finishes for her. “Shawn donated clothes, too. And Mom.” She swallows. “There’s plenty to share with your group, is what she means.” Maggie nods her head at the bag on the bed, then to two others on the floor.

They're sharing...all of those?

You don’t get a chance to ask it because Beth is already answering. “When I saw how y’all looked, it was scary. The,” she starts, then stops. “Not that you were scary, I meant y’all must’ve been out there a long time. It’s scary to think about.”

“In your defense, I did look scary the first time you saw me.” Wild hair, sweat-drenched, sobbing, and covered in Carl’s and your own blood. Rough day.

But having been ‘out there,’ as Beth worded it, it’s not so scary when you’re with a group you trust. It even feels comforting to have them all. Which is when you consider how Shane and you will be back out there in a couple weeks, alone.

“Here.” Beth shyly points to the bag. “I wanted to offer for you to look through the bags first. If, if you want.”

The offer is (more) bribery to keep you quiet, which cools the warmth of the charity, but doesn't lessen the grateful tears you spill. Plus, yes, you all could use some fresh clothes, there’s only so much mending that can be done. And to be offered first dibs, even if it’s just to butter you up, is still being offered first dibs. “I’d love to take a look, thank you,” you say in earnest.

Beth combs through the bag and chats in her shy manner, handing you a barely-worn, calf-length dress that had been gift for Maggie, then a (pure wool?!) cardigan their mother had been giving away.

You find it hard to believe that she’s doing this as bribery, Beth doesn’t seem the sort to easily conceal things. She’s got an innocence that hits as genuine.

But, then again, you who hate dishonesty are apparently great at it. Who’s to say she’s not, too?

The breathlessness briefly comes back. You clear your throat and cough once.

Beth next, to your apprehension and then delight, has you try on the dress and cardigan (which shockingly fit). While retying the modified sling around your upper arm, Maggie keeps trying to catch your eye again in order to, you don’t know, communicate something via meaningful glance? But you don’t have the bandwidth for it, so return her look with a polite smile and shrug.

Her little sister then proceeds to gussy you up in a way reminiscent of how Amy did once at the quarry camp to see how Glenn would react. Gosh, was that only two-ish months ago, wasn’t it? Or has it been longer? It feels like so much more time has passed.

Beth has manages a quick, respectable braided style for your hair, touches up your eyebrows for you, and even adds blush. She then claims that your hiking boots “look okay” with the ensemble and has you use the full length mirror in her closet to inspect the full results.

The dress is lovely, you have to admit. The neckline doesn’t dip too low bonus that it doesn’t show your bruise, the waist is defined, and it’s long enough past your knees to be comfortable. The length also helps lessen the lingering apprehension you have about showing natural (*cough cough unshaven*) legs.

You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.

It’s as if she knew you were yearning to feel girly again. If this is bribery, you welcome it. Worse ways of being bribed than with fresh food and a makeover from a genuinely sweet kid. And hey, since you have to be onstage so much, might as well dress nicely for the audience.

When you’re walking downstairs to bring your people the donations, Maggie murmurs in your ear, “Y/N, I didn’t put her up to any of this, it was all her.”

When you pull away from her, she whispers insistently, “It wasn’t her bein’ nice to keep you quiet. Remember, she doesn’t kn—”

“—Good mornin’, girls. What’s in the bags?” Patricia’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairwell.

“We had some clothes to donate since before Easter,” Beth answers. “I figured they could use ’em.”

“They certainly could. I’m glad I have plenty I brought from my house when we moved in.” You can see Miss Patricia in the hallway by the stairs, clearly wearing one of her late husband’s shirts over her dress. Her brows lift. “Seems you dolled your friend up some. You clean up nice, sweetpea!”

“Thank you, ma’am. I-I do feel like a lady again,” you allow, your cheeks again warming.

“Never stopped being one, as far as I’m concerned. Always kept your Ps and Qs,” she’s kind enough to maintain. “Oh, speaking of ladies, I don’t know how y’all are doing on girls’ supplies, but we should have enough to share while you’re still with us.”

“Margaret and I were gonna look for some more on the next drug store run tomorrow or Monday to make sure you’ll well stocked.” Along with everything else on the list(s) that was forgotten when those two…got distracted.

Ugh, how different things would be if you’d gone along for that trip! None of this barn bullshit!

Again, you feel the need to cough to help you breathe better, so you cough twice and try clearing your throat.

“Uh-oh, sounds like cold and flu season is well on it’s way,” she muses. “Don’t let me keep you holding them bags all day, girls. It’ll be funny watchin’ your daddy react if one of them ends up dressed in his giveaways,” the woman comments wryly. “Now, I did intend to check on those stitches today, Y/N, so come see me later. Hersh is just finishing up with Daryl’s, in fact, then he’ll be all set to go, if you were wantin’ to see him out.”

Oh, right! Today is finally the day he’s leaving that room!

Carl, too, but he’s already out and has been wandering around outside as much as his energy and mom will allow (which isn’t very much yet).

Daryl, on the other hand, has been too dizzy and too ashamed to do much more than a trip around the perimeter of the house.

Carol and you cleaned his tent yesterday as a surprise. It was her idea, of course. She enlisted your help specifically because you twice mentioned not thinking his sweat smelled bad, which is weird, but, for real, it doesn’t smell bad to you. The cigarettes, on the other hand, ew.

“Are we not going today?” Maggie asks quietly about the postponed pharmacy trip.

With tact, you suggest, “We could all use some rest after stayin’ up so late.”

She peers into your eyes, then nods and adjusts her hold on the two bags in her hands.“That’s a good idea. I’m not up to it, either.”

Upon stepping back outside onto the front porch, Jimmy and Glenn are kicking the soccer ball around already. Glenn is keeping his neck taut as he and Jimmy go back and forth, but the pain must have lessened.

The irresistible urge you have to make light of everything seizes you, and you leap into matchmaker mode because, why not? You won’t be here much longer, and maybe Maggie and Glenn linking up will lead to the rest being permitted to stay. That’s what matters.

Oh, and, uh, because you love Glenn, and Maggie is kind…oh fuck, are you just a calculating, cold strategist?

The feeling that you’re running out of air and going to vomit returns, but you push yourself onstage and commit to the role. You have to keep your shit together.

“Ain’t he handsome when he plays? Good sportsmanship and confidence rolled into one.” You playfully hold a smile back when you glance at Maggie and giggle to hide your heavy breathing. “Also the shiny hair.”

“He does have great hair,” she softly agrees.

“Y/N, do you and Glenn like each other? I-I thought…” Beth’s face has paled.

Maybe that’s why you over-act when you exclaim, “Of course I like him, that’s why I’m such a great wingwoman for him.”

Margaret blushes. “Let’s get these bags to their camp.”

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

Him

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

“I can’t hunt?”

“You can do as you please,” the old man remarks. What, is he making fun of him? “But doing so while recovering from a concussion would be foolish, as would be heavy lifting or other strenuous activity, and that’s not considering your collarbone and ribs. I’m curious as to how you’d wield your weapon or bring back what you hunted, for one, if you would even make it off the property without keeling over.”

Daryl bites his tongue and keeps his words to himself. Well, fine! I can still bring that little girl back. She’s got legs, she’ll be able to walk on her own.

Hershel cleans up his stuff and stands. “Now, then, I’m sure you’re ready to finally see yourself out.”

“Damn straight,” is probably not the smartest response in front of the old man, what with the cuss word, but damn straight he is ready to get the hell out of there. Still, he remembers his manners. “Thanks for everythin’.” He even holds out his hand for a shake. Which is dumb because the guy’s hands are full.

Daryl…puts his hand back down and grabs the few things he had in there with him. Y/N once described the Dr. Farmer as ‘unreadable.’ Definitely is that.

Unreadable, Hershel drawls, “It’s good you’re on the mend,” and inclines his head toward the door. “After you.”

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

You

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

Dude, you had a panic attack.

It wasn’t too too bad, all things considered. Initially, you’d thought it was a mild asthma attack, but in hindsight, wow you were oblivious to all of the signs.

It started to happen when some of the group was going through the clothes, right after Maggie and you dropped them off and she left to do choring.

Lori was beside you, low-key beside herself trying to figure out how your people could “ever repay the family now?”

Next, T-Dog joked about the sizes being too small for him. “Ain’t sure what here I could fit that won’t result in a show for y’all.”

This is when Andrea murmured to Carol, “Reminds me how it’s been awhile.” The way Carol reacted clued you in that it might have been a sex joke. Especially given the way Andy next gave your brother a once-over as if you weren’t right there. You vividly recall licking your teeth and rolling your eyes.

Then Shane — and he did this without having seen Andrea do the once-over — nudged T-Dog in the ribs and began to unbutton his own top. “Worse things than a show these days, friend. And that there clean shirt is calling my name.” Naturally, he proceeded to swap garments right where he stood.

Per usual, Lori was more graceful than you. She ignored it as if he were her own brother acting like a frat boy, and merely continued to sift through one of the bags. She smiled upon finding something, tapped Carol on the shoulder, and handed it to her.

It’s been a week now since Shane betrayal to her and Rick. Even you’re still figuring out how to see him. The hopeful part is that he’s been leaving Lori alone. If his sights have indeed turned to Andrea, all the better.

Back to the moment, then you imagined what if he and Andrea got a little too close, did something foolish, and she ended up pregnant, too. Not that Lori’s baby is Shane’s, the baby is Rick’s regardless, but...

The tight feeling returned in your chest.

It was in the midst of this that Dale complimented you. “Kiddo, you’re all gussied up! Any occasion?”

“Mmhm, all dressed up for the ‘show.’” The nausea was back, plus a fun new notion of being observed by unseen persons.

Dale just nodded with raised brows, and you and he shared a look. Instead of tempering your fears, it piqued them. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Horvath’s expression started to mirror the way he stared into your eyes after catching Shane lose his temper and leave you with a bruise on your sternum.

The fears within you, the stress, the dread, all started roiling stronger and stronger. You cleared your throat, then coughed, but it didn’t help and you felt restless and, oddly, cornered.

And so, not knowing where to look therefore looking in all directions, you happened to spy Glenn staring at the barn. Again.

The air felt too…thin? And then you noticed Lori examining the torso of one of the shirts in the bag as if testing it for stretchiness or room. You could see the shadows clouding her face right before she abruptly put the shirt down. Then, there was Carol, holding up something that had clearly must have been Beth’s a few years ago, and it looked as if it would fit Sophia perfectly now.

It was just about then that your lungs simply couldn’t keep up.

“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.

You may have panted something to do with “puffer,” referring to your largely unused inhaler. At any rate, instead of next going to the logical location of the RV to find the med bag, you made for the treeline. You didn’t want anyone near you, didn’t want anybody to see you, didn’t want a fuss, didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want anyone to even think about you, so you had to hide.

Panting, a numbness started to affect your fingers and spread to your torso and toes. You repeatedly coughed in an effort to break up whatever was making it hard to breathe. Once you started coughing, it dominoed. Your stitches were tugging at the forceful coughs, and soon, you were hacking. The hacking led to retching, one, two, three times. Tears started to fall.

“Baby, here,” came from your right and a warm, delicate hand touched the small of your back. Lori. She pressed the inhaler into your hand. “I shook it up, it’s all ready.”

Bending forward slightly to open your airways, you tried to exhale enough so you could take the dose properly as you clasped the trigger.

One puff. Hold breath in.

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

Another puff. Hold breath in.

The relief that usually comes with the medication wasn’t as apparent as it normally would be. It helped somewhat, but. You tried another dose.

More tears of frustration. You panted that you thought your were going to pass out. "F-Feels like m'gonna die," you may have also said. The phantom sensation of your hand being covered in Amy's blood returned. You recall wiping it with the hem of your dress, and Lori taking your hands, preventing you from continuing to do so.

Lori calmly instructed you to, “Try this with me, honey,” and slowly breathed in through her nose. You copied as best you could.

She then slowly breathed out through her mouth. You copied as best you could.

Over and over she coached you.

Things started to ease. Your pulse was still loudly thumping, but two doses of a corticosteroid will do that. In your escape, you’d made for the big rocks where you’d shared (sort of) a cigarette with Daryl. The stones felt nice and cool, and Lori’s gentle rubbing of her hand across your back was comforting.

“Been a while since you’ve needed the inhaler. ‘Decorative,’ you called it once,” she softly chatted. The sensation of not getting enough air wasn’t quite gone just then, but you felt pretty normal again.

“I reckon the cold and the smoke must’ve done me in,” you mumbled. Your throat was mildly sore after all the coughing. “It’s good it was mild.”

“Were you wheezing?”

“No, I…just couldn’t breathe enough or something.” You shrugged. “I don’t always wheeze when I need it.” Your nose was stuffy from crying.

She was thoughtful for a moment, and had begun to lightly scratch your back. “You and Glenn seem off this morning. I’ve seen you two tired before, but today you both seem…there’s something else going on, clearly. Did you two fight?”

“Not exactly.” It’s true. “We’re on the same page.” You weren't prepared to have to go onstage again, but just in case, you tried pulling yourself together.

“Was it about Maggie?”

You laughed genuinely. “Ha, not at all.”

Lori didn’t mirror your laughter or even smile in return. “Honey, I think you had a panic attack.”

At first, you protested. “Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic.”

“It looked different from where I was. But even still, it didn’t have to be or feel ‘dramatic’ to have been one, you know that.” The nonjudgemental straightforwardness in her voice, in her eyes, was enough to convince you that she could see straight into your heart and read what was there. “Y/N, is there something more going on?”

More than anything, at that moment, you didn’t want to lie to her.

But what could you do? Tell the truth, yes, 'the truth will out,' you know that. But you were convinced that telling the whole truth, right then, would be like lighting dynamite.

In your view, you would be exposing everyone to chaos and even violence, and you'd all seen too much of that already. And no, you couldn’t just tell one person because it never just stays with one person. Lori was/is not in any position to have more fear on her plate.

So what did you do?

You crawled back on that stage and you lied — by telling the truth.

“I’m worried he’ll talk.” Vague and a lie of omission, and maybe a little throwing your friend under the bus, but Lord have mercy on you, it was truthful.

Lori squeezed her eyes shut. “Me, too. Oh honey, I’m so scared!” she whispered, covering her mouth.

So scared of Shane, just like you are. “Rick won’t hold any of it against you. We all thought he was dead.”

She shook her head and stared at the ground.“But you saw how Shane behaved, you, you heard the things he said, Y/N,” she nearly hissed. “I don’t know who that man was, but it wasn’t Shane, just like when he had m—” then Lori cut off.

“When he had what?”

She shook her head again. “Seems Dale’s on his way over. He told me about what was going on so I could bring your medicine to you. He hadn't known what 'puffer' meant." And —oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you’re worrying yourself like this over my mistake! It's not fair to you.”

“Your kid ain’t a mistake, it’s so good that they’re here,” you replied in total honesty. First time all day.

Maybe she’ll be honest with you and spill whatever Shane did that she’s not being upfront about. Whatever it is could surely have been described in a sentence. “What else did Shane do, Lore?” It can’t have been that bad, or could it?

All she did was shake her head once more. “Like you said, he hasn’t been himself.

‘Hasn’t been himself.’ Fine. You’ve got secrets, too, so there’s no way on earth can you cast stones.

You stepped back onstage for hopefully the final time, and made yourself deliver the next lines. “That’s why we’re goin’ to Fort Benning.” Without you all. “Just him and me. Within two weeks, I hope?” The nausea still hadn’t gone away, and simply saying this brought it back.

Her brows sunk caution. “When was this decision made? I-I thought—”

“—I ain’t told him about it yet.” The bitter smile, you hadn’t been able to stifle. “Shouldn’t be hard to convince him, considering he was fixing to not so long ago.”

Lori’s apologetic tone wasn’t a put-on. “I’m so sorry he didn’t tell you. I had no idea you were left in the dark.”

That’s when some tightness came back to your chest, and your breathing turned faster again. “I know, Lore.”

She noticed. “Honey, hey,” she soothed, “breathe slowly, deeply." Her hand cupped your cheek. "His mistakes, his choices, his reactions are not your responsibility.”

“I know, b-but—”

“—And you don’t have to leave with him if you don't want to.”

“But wh—”

“—No buts.” Lori cupped your cheek, stood, and swiftly made toward Dale.

And here is where you hadn’t known she was going to be quite so straightforward with him.

In fact, you’d hoped she’d join you onstage and lie, too, but she behaved beyond reproach. “It was a panic attack, so please make sure to respect her privacy about it. I’ve got to check on the laundry.”

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

Him

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

Funny thing, he’s wearing the same clothes he had his accident in. He’s in the same stuff leaving that he had been when he got carried in there, except now they’re cleaned and mended.

It’s been good to be back outside, he prefers it. He can’t wrap his head around why some people can keep inside in front of a TV all day. You don’t get to hear or feel the wind indoors, can’t hear the birds and all that.

Now, he couldn’t say for sure, but stepping outside and knowing he didn’t have to go back in must feel at least half as good as getting freed from prison.

If prison was a nice-ass farmhouse without the risk of getting shanked or worse, obviously.

Merle would have some words if he heard Daryl say something like that out loud. Though, Merle was pretty settled when he was in lock-up. Fared fine.

His first view when he steps out into freedom is of Glenn and the teenage boy, kicking the ball around. Those two are straight into it and pay him no mind as he walks around them.

The rest of the group is around the picnic table, looks like they’re sorting laundry (?), therefore ain’t paying him no mind, either.

Phew.

This is good. He was wondering if Y/N was gonna parade him out or make it a big deal, but after hearing her and the other ladies talking in the hallway, she didn’t come back in. Works for him, he doesn’t like a crowd.

…But, like, where is she? He figured she’d be around, is all, but she ain’t by the table.

Ah, yeah, duh — she's probably still doing something with the girl that's about her age and her little sister. Still seems off Y/N and Glenn are only “five or six years younger” than him, but that’s what Y/N has said a few times.

The next thing he sees is Lori, who is swooping down the yard and toward the big rocks where he and T-Dog took a smoke break once. And where Y/N had her first try of a cigarette, too. Lori looks like a woman on a mission, damn. Dale is staring in the direction Lori is walking, those big-ass brows of his slanted downward. Wonder what that's about?

Over the sound of a few leftover end-of-season cicadas, he hears the normal drone of crickets, light talking from the group, the thunk of the ball getting kicked, a very loud crow, some cows mooing, somebody coughing, birds doing their thing, chickens clucking, the wind blowing. Mmm, good stuff. Being inside and hearing it just don’t sound as good as being right out in it.

Then, “Daryl!” comes from his left, and he sees Carol walking to him. She’s a good woman.

And now the memory of her kissing him on the cheek is making his cheeks heat up as quick as her steps toward him.

“I’ll carry those for you,” she quietly insists about his small pile of clothes. He lets her.

She’s been very, um, very attentive. Been having most of her meals with him, babying him as much as he’d allow, and all-in-all has been treating him extra after he had his accident.

There are more coughing sounds that he almost pegs as being Y/N’s, but when he looks back in the direction of the noise, there’s no one, just Lori off on her walk, and it wasn’t her doing the coughing.

“We moved your tent closer to the rest of us, so you would be closer to where we could help you.”

Closer. Great. Daryl wanted nothing less, but a kind gesture is a kind gesture, so he mans up and acts proper, grunting, “Thank you.” It’s not like they went and messed with his stuff, they just moved the tent, and for a real kind reason.

Glenn rears and kicks, sending the ball soaring. Damn, he's good.

“Now, it may smell and look a little different, but all of your things are still there.”

“Huh?” What’d she mean?

“You deserved a nice, clean place to go back to,” Carol explains. “Y?N and I cleaned up your tent.”

…

...

…they what?

He gets the weirdest image of himself as being onstage and forgetting whatever it was he was supposed to say next, leaving him standing there like a mouthbreather in front of the audience. And he kinda wants to cuss the audience out.

His first idea after learning Carol and Y/N was: What the hell, y’all been messing with my stuff? What gives y'all the right?

But, come on, even he had it in him to keep his mouth shut. They’d taken the time and effort to clean up his shit and it was probably as nice as when Carol had worked her magic in the RV. That's damned decent, in fact.

So, Daryl does not act like a jackass, and instead, remembers his lines and thanks Carol again.

“It was no trouble. How about I bring you some more breakfast once you’re settled in?” she quickly offers. See? Very attentive. And he didn’t do shit to have earned it, which made it more uncomfortable.

Aw shit, his cheeks feel all warm again. First around Y/N, now Carol? Maybe there is something to this whole concussion bullshit.

Or, maybe Carol done kissed you on the cheek and said you were a good man and that you did right by her little girl as much as a father should and that’s the best possible thing somebody could be told.

“Do you want some more coffee, too?”

I wanna to be left alone, lady. “Nah, m’great. Thank you.”

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

You

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

“Last night seemed to be an indication summer was officially over. But today,” Dale blows through his lips, “Well, we can already tell it’ll be a warm one.”

“Did we hit the first day of fall, yet? I forgot what date it is today.”

“No, that’s on the 21st. We’ve got some time.”

“Oh, wait!” you squeak (ouch, your throat is still sore from coughing). “Ain’t it the Holy Days for you still?” Rosh Hoshanah was sometime last week, but that one got sort of messed up because of everything that’s been going on.

Oh man, it was the day after Daryl got into his accident, wasn’t it?

Dale’s cordial expression falters. “Yes, it was last week.”

“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”

“It’s on the 18th this year, yes. Two days away.”

There’s this very insistent raven that’s been cawing away. Or is that a crow? You can’t tell the difference. You can tell that you’ve bummed Dale out, however. “I’ve bummed you out.”

Smiling sadly, he concedes, “Jewish holidays are usually lonely ones in mixed company. And now, especially with it being the holiest time of the year, after everything…” He lifts his shoulders.

“I’ll do the fasting with you so you won’t be alone!” Ow, stop raising your voice so high. “Is it no food or drink at all on that day, or is water okay?”

A happier smile. “No food or drink — barring serious health concerns, of course, in which case, one is required to not fast.”

“No water must suck! When my lot do fasting, water don’t count.”

He nods his head once. “It’s all part of the atonement. It’s considered a blessing for us to fast for it.”

“And the feast after it is fun,” you sigh with a grin. You’ll enlist Carol and Lori to see about making him a yummy fast-breaking meal for the day.

This is what you needed. Dale didn’t press you regarding the panic attack, and has simply been keeping you company by the big rocks. You’ve haven’t had to go back onstage while he’s been sitting with you. You’d probably be content to stay here a good, long time if you didn’t have to use the toilet something major.

“Did you see if there was a pair of suspenders in the bags so you and Mr. Greene can match?”

“Is this your way of saying you’re feeling well enough to head back, or that you need privacy?”

“It’s my way of sayin’ I gotta go potty real bad.” You stand. “Suspenders are pretty cool, you can party like it’s 1899.”

“I actually quite like how suspenders look,” he chuckles, stretching and getting to his feet.

“Mm, they remind me of the Old West, I love ’em.”

Dale and you walk back until reaching the side of the farmhouse, whereupon you excuse yourself to head to the treeline and do your business.

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

Him

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

As soon as the heat starts to sink in, he unbuttons his shirt halfway and kicks his shoes off. Getting the socks off without hurting himself takes some effort, but it’s worth it. His stuff is so squeaky clean and fresh, he wants to avoid sweating the place up too quick.

His old pillowcase is gone, probably scrapped for dishrags seeing as it was pretty worn. In its place is a flower-covered one with soft, thick cotton fabric. There's some phrase about a 'woman's touch' that must apply here. Or, if Merle were here, prime Darylina ammo. Joke's on him, the pillowcase is soft as hell.

And being in there might seem boring, but it's 10 times better than being stuck in a damn bed and listening to music for days on end. Just cloud-watching through his tent window is fun enough for him.

In fact, it’s rad! He’s so psyched to not be in that room anymore!

Cloud watching, playing with his bolts, farting if he's gotta; he's content as can be. Seriously, he’s in such a good mood right now.

But as luck would have it, by the time he’s decided to see how easily a bolt can poke a hole through the mesh window (the answer is very easily, and it’s real satisfying) none other than Andrea herself appears at his tent door. The chick who shot him.

Now, she’s pretty as a picture and then some, but he doesn’t want his belly showing in front of her. If he’d been paying attention and heard her making her way to him, he would’ve buttoned up.

So, he tries out the same tactic as last night, when Carol walked in on him shirtless; maybe by not closing his shirt, she wouldn’t think about it? Or…fuck it, just about everybody has seen some part of him uncovered in the past week. At least there ain’t no scars on this side.

All he’s got to do is make like he’s onstage and that it doesn’t bother him having his literal nipples on display.

“Hey.” Andrea steps into his tent, looking like she is about to eat crow.

She hands him a book. He accepts the maybe peace-offering.

“It’s not that great, but…” she trails off, breathes out, and looks guilty as hell.

Y/N, Carol, and T-Dog all mentioned she’s been kicking her own ass for shooting him. Granted, he’s still a little pissed, and, yeah, real thankful that she’s a shit shot, but — she was trying to protect the group, right? Ain’t even her fault he got stuck in that damn bed. The concussion, split side, and broken ribs did that for him.

He figures he’s gotta make it clear that she’s off the hook without making her feel worse for being let off the hook. And, he thinks he knows just the way to break the tension. It’d got the librarian at his high school to laugh the first time he made the remark, which is probably why he was usually allowed to eat in there during lunch.

Now, he knows reading is still on the no-go list, don’t worry, Y/N, but he casually holds the book up and flips through the pages.

He’s gotta, it’s the setup.

It’s good that Andrea ain’t said nothing yet, because it’s the perfect opportunity for him to pretend to be dead-serious when he complains, “What, no pictures?”

The joke does the trick. Andrea smiles and relaxes. “I’m so sorry. I feel like shit,” she starts to go on, but he puts a stop to it.

Tucking the book aside as he settles down onto the pillow, he cuts in, “You and me both.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but, if there’s anything I can do, I—”

He cuts in one more time, “—You were trying to protect the group. We’re good.” He means it.

But, ya know, just because things are chill doesn’t mean he can’t bust her balls a little, right? “But hey,” he stops her as she’s leaving. “Shoot me again, you best pray I’m dead.”

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

You

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

“It went great! Better than I ever expected.” Andrea takes a seat beside you on the log. Judging by the look of serenity on her face, it appears that the monkey she’s had on her back for the past week is finally gone.

“Good, m’glad.” You knew it would be fine, but Andrea was so nervous.

“And I have to say, I can see the appeal now.”

“What appeal?”

“Daryl was,” she thinks on the right word and picks: “Charming.”

Ah. You see what she’s trying to do. “Well, go tell him that, then,” you suggest, cool as a cucumber. She and Dale thought you and he had a romantic thing going on. Lol, nah.

“And he was funny!” she goes on.

You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”

“Not angry, or, or nasty.” She closes her eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief. “I was so worried about how it was going be.”

You tilt your head in partial agreement. He can be a dick.

Your job for the rest of the day, so Papa Dale done told you, is to be chill (yes, he used the word ‘chill’ and it was adorable). It’s your only responsibility today, seeing as he joined you when you went to check the highway spot for Sophia. She hasn’t found it, it’s untouched. Again.

So now, your job = keep chill.

“Are you helping with target practice later?”

Oh, right, and there’s that. You suppose you could continue helping Beth with drawing her weapon smoothly, keep drilling her never, ever forget to switch the safety back and forth.

But…maybe today, that isn’t your job. Maybe you need a rest from being onstage. “I think I’m gonna sit today out.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I just need a day,” you answer in too high a pitch.

Andy doesn’t inquire further. “How’s the little fuzzball?” she instead asks.

“Still sleeping,” you coo. The sluggish little chick you’d scooped up while quickly sprinkling feed-corn in order to feel useful is your insurance for keeping chill. Can’t not keep chill with a chick asleep in your lap.

“It must feel nice and safe wrapped up like that.”

“Mm.” The chick is nestled in a dishtowel, half its body also covered by your new cardigan.

“Y/N, have you not gone to visit him yet?”

“Not yet. He’d appreciate some time to himself, I reckon, after a week bein’ stuck in there and visitors and checkups at all hours.”

Glenn’s off doing farm chores with Jimmy, so he’s being kept busy and won’t be a concern. As for you, you’ve got your sleepy chick and are content to stay here on the log. You ate lunch, yet another peach (you’re up to six), just finished the leftover raspberries, and are now washing it all down with some fresh mint tea you made in honor of one of your best friends. She’d make her own mint tea and would call it ‘wild mint’ tea because it sounded exotic.

When Dale mentioned today’s date, you realized it was her birthday. She was the most confident girl you’d ever met, and a sweetheart to boot. You really hope she’s alive.

Andrea chuckles to herself. “I gave him that terrible book to keep him occupied.”

Book?? “A book?”

“I brought him The Case of the Missing Man,” she shares with a grin. “He can join the survivor’s club of those who’ve read it — Y/N, is something wrong?”

“Oh, um, nah, it’s all good, uh,” you are fumbling so hard right now. Cool, you’re feeling lightheaded again, cool cool.

It’s all cool. There’s no fire. Stay chill. “I’m gonna pop over and make sure he ain’t cracked into it yet, he’s, it’s, it’s not safe yet. C-Concussion and all.” Listen to you, smooth like butter.

“Oh shit.”

“Andy, don’t sweat. Even if he did start on it, like,” and you pause, because, “I don’t actually know what can go wrong, I didn’t ask Miss Patricia, but I’m sure it ain’t nothing serious!” You cup the (awoken and now loudly peeping) chick between your hands as you book it (pun intended?) to Daryl’s tent.

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

Him

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

For Y/N to glide over wearing a pretty dress, hair all fancy, and holding some little bird was not something he put on his bingo sheet.

“Hiya, Daryl.”

It takes him a second. “Hey.” Never seen her in a dress, is all. And with that little bird, he gets the image in his head of her bursting into song and the farm animals and forest critters doing a musical number with her.

He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...

“I hope you’re enjoyin’ your new freedom! Mi—”

“—Who’s the little guy?” he had to ask first.

“It's a chick.”

Clearly. “Why?”

“It’s cute.”

She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”

“Yeah, it's adorable!”

He begins to get up, but she steps over faster than he can stand. She kneels beside his cot and, delicately, transfers the wrapped chick into his hands. He carefully unwraps the washcloth around it and slips his hand underneath it so sits on his palm with its teeny legs dangling through his fingers. It’s peeping like it’s getting paid for it, holy shit it’s so fucking cute.

“I came here wonderin’ if I might I borrow the, uh, the book Andrea just lent you?”

Ha, called it! The second Y/N found out he had contraband, she came to the rescue.

The chick quiets down, appearing to relax in his hand.

Maybe it’s because he’s in a good mood, but he smiles like a dipshit for a few moments before saying anything. “Nah, I wouldn’t dream of checking it out ’til you said it was fine.”

“Oh ha-ha,” she play-mocks, assuming he wasn’t being serious.

Eh, okay, maybe he was sorta razzing her, too. But he wants to come out on the other side of this whole concussion bullshit on the up, and if reading is still off-limits, it’s still off limits. He’s not gonna full-on disregard somebody who gives a shit.

“How’d ya end up dressed like that?” is his second question while he pets the chick lightly along its head with the feathers on his bolt.

“I wear this, like, all the time.”

“Oh right, yeah, you do,” he sarcastically responds. He tries to reach with his left arm to pick up the book under his cot, but gets a sharp twinge and surrenders that he can’t do that move yet.

Y/N snorts at the sarcasm and tells him straight, “The Greenes had some giveaways, so Beth gave me this outfit. Oh, thank you,” she says when he instead points in the direction of the book. She picks it up and hugs it to herself. “I do believe Carol put a few things aside for you to try on, too.”

“’Kay.”

Y/N looks pretty.

It’s nothing new, obviously her face is nice, but it's the whole blushing things that's annoying. Seems he's started blushing like a belle over all the damn women in camp these days. That really was some smack to the head he got.

He’s imagining himself as being back onstage again, forgetting his lines. He can ad-lib. “How you gonna search in that?”

“Ain’t like my ankles are tied together. Women have always been able to move, play, do manual labor of all sorts in dresses, corsets, stays, stockin’s, you name it,” she serves back with just enough fire that his belly did one of those good flippy-floppys. “That reminds me, Nervous Nelly came back! Did any of us tell you? She’s fine as can be, I fed her half a peach yesterday!”

Some of them baby hairs around her face are coming out of the braids. Her skin's got a sheen to it. And did she put pink stuff on her cheeks or something? Or is that because she was moving around a lot and it’s gotten warm out? Because her lips don’t look like there’s nothing on them but they’re nice and —

“—Dare, you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

“You must be.” Why is she frowning? “You looked like you’d just got hypnotized or — you sure you feel normal?”

“M’fine, I just spaced out.”

She’s gonna have him do a thing, isn’t she? “Follow my finger for a little, please?” Ah-ha, see?

Pointer finger extended, he goes along with it for the 10 or so seconds it takes for the slight crease between her eyebrows to relax.

“Please stick out your tongue for me?” is her next request and, uh, why?

Well, he goes ahead and does it for her anyway. The hook ’em horns he makes at the same time are a sure sign he’s in a good-ass mood.

Y/N lets herself smile, then elaborates: “If it came out tilted, it’s a sign of stroke.”

Stroke? That’s a little much.“C’mon, you’re worried I had a stroke?”

She nods once. Her chest expands big as if she were inhaling really deep. “A smoker, extended bed rest, head trauma,” she quietly counts.

Is he hearing things, or does her breathing sound a little too fast?

“Can you point your toes three times?”

He point his toes three times, and yes, her breathing is a little too fast.

“Now please lift both arms parallel to the bed.”

He lifts both arms. The baby chicken is sleeping now and doesn’t wake with the motion.

“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.

“Tell me you’re not stressing out about nothin’.”

She blinks a few times and deadpans, “I would never.”

“Here,” he holds the chick near her face. “Get zen like this pipsqueak.”

“But you ain’t ‘nothing’ and you are at an elevated stroke risk.”

He’s only got the one word for her: “Zen.” The hovering motion he made with the chick was a fun touch, the little thing didn’t even mind.

Her expression suggests she’s trying to not smile, and, in a move he doesn’t anticipate, she leans forward to rub her nose on its beak. Her lips brush against his fingertips when she does and his train of thought derails.

Next thing, her hands are overlapping his as she gently takes the chick back and re-wraps it in the washcloth. “’Lil buddy you’re fine, you’re fine,” she coos. “I’ll grab you the hand sanitizer and leave you to some peace, alright man?” she addresses to Daryl, who's still a little distracted, so a grunt and a chin tilt is how he acknowledges this.

Merle would be laughing his ass off right now, goddamn. ‘Sweet lil virgin Darylina’ sounds about what he’d be cackling about.

Y/N flips open the cap with her thumb and squirts the hand stuff onto his palm. Smells like lemons.

So, he didn’t have that stuff before, meaning she’d likely been the one to put it in there when she’d cleaned his tent with Carol. “Hey, um, thanks for the surprise.” Damn, he’s awkward. Smells way better in here.”

“Carol is so wanting to help you in any way she can. I was in it just to see you end up with that pretty floral pillowcase. I had to stop her from hangin' the matching curtains,” she snickers, then waves him goodbye and, boom, leaves.

So…how long until his heartbeat and head stop racing?

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

You

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

Yet another stage performance today. You had to act like you weren’t distracted by how boyishly charming Daryl looked lounging there with his shirt unbuttoned to his hecking waist, good Moses. Then the way he snuggled the chick, how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? He noticed your panicking and was all soothing and shit? Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.

Still, you think you were convincing. Oscar-worthy. Golden Globe. Emmy. Tony. Somebody hook you up with your EGOT.

Oh, and that little jab at his new pillowcase, aw yes, that was top tier friendzoning! Or — oh, it wasn’t interpreted as flirting, right? No way did you intend that! And hold up, no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.

You've earned a B- so far at being chill, you've got to get that grade up.

So, you are going to go pick fruit, alone, and you’re going to stuff your face because the show is over, you’re off stage for the rest of the day!

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

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[oliviasroses19]

Polin ramble coming in hot!

After it was revealed that Colin was helping Penelope find a husband, we have matching shots of each of them yearningly looking out the window.

We see Colin, having just read Whistledown, looking out across the square to the Featherington house. It’s a very short shot and it’s easy to just chalk it up to him being concerned for Pen. Which he is absolutely worried. She’s been utterly trashed in Whistledown, while he was left pretty much unscathed. Obviously this is because Penelope wrote it, but Colin doesn’t know this. So we have hero!colin who, in his desperation to fix his past mistake with Pen, has now created an entirely new and even worse situation for her. Colin has big feelings, guilt being the main one at the moment, that he has to compartmentalize and plan and work through before he does anything. He’s feeling like he squandered his chance to make things up to Penelope and may even be scared that he’s lost her again after barely getting her back. He most likely spent the entire day planning what he needed to say to Penelope, so by the time he actually does visit her, it is late in the evening. (There is also the risk of causing more scandal by calling on her, which is widely agreed upon within the fandom as to why he visits her at night.)

Then we have Pen, who is convinced she has ruined any prospect of marriage. She is taking the blame in this situation, having written what she did while leaving Colin as the innocent party. Enter Portia, who digs the knife in even deeper by pretty much telling Penelope that it was crazy to even think she had a chance at finding a suitor in the first place. Poor Penelope was already feeling low and to have her own mother confirm her fears is absolutely terrible to watch. She spends the rest of the day staring out her window accepting her fate as a spinster.

Until Colin shows up and now neither of them are looking out windows. They’re face to face and they are both feeling so much. Colin can barely get a word out before Penelope is asking him to kiss her.

(This is by far one of my favorite scenes to see analyzed and I am a firm believer that he absolutely did want to kiss her. We can use the book as reference to his inner thoughts as well as what we know of show!colin. My point in the next part can be taken however the reader would like to)

Is there a part of Colin who wants to kiss Pen? Absolutely. Is this a bad idea? Undoubtedly. Is this something he can give her when he has ruined her reputation not once, but twice now? Yes. Colin hates seeing Penelope upset, and if there is even the smallest chance this will make her feel better, propriety be damned, he’ll do it. He’s an “acts of service” guy through and through, which feeds his hero complex and insecurities that if he can’t do something for someone, what good is he to them. Unfortunately, this usually blows up in his face. In this instance, hero!colin makes an appearance, and it blows up in his face in the best way possible because holy shit he loves kissing her.

Consequences: 1,000

Hero!colin: 2 -1 because now he has to deal with yearning for Pen having now realized his feelings.

[somestorythoughts]

You time travel and You time travel and-

Amusing myself by thinking of the entire Company of Thorin Oakenshield time traveling back to before the start of The Adventure.

Thorin wakes up, panics, immediately runs to Fili's room, and finds Fili there hugging Kili who's sobbing his heart out. Thorin staggers over to them and it's only after Kili's stopped crying that he learns Blog killed Kili and proceeds not to move for several minutes because he lost his nephews they died and he died and now they're all here and it takes a bit before any of them are able to move.

When Dis wakes up in the morning they're all red-eyed and look so bad she asks if someone's died.

Dwalin wakes up and once he realizes what happened goes to Balin, cause he's Dwalin's brother and trusted the history guy and the best person to subtly ask "hey are there any records of dwarves waking up in the past" only to find Balin frantically trying to find an answer to that exact question.

The first thing Gloin says when he sees Gimli is "why are you small??" Gimli, who's just had a growth spurt, is extremely offended. Oin overhears him complaining and that's when he realizes that something is also up with his brother. Which is good because he was seriously worried he'd taken a knock to the head.

Dori wakes up, immediately goes to check on Ori, and they both start comparing notes. When Nori comes back a week later intending the subtly check up on them Ori flat out asks is he time traveled too and Nori is immediately relieved he's not imagining things.

Bombur is slow to wake up when not under threat so doesn't realize something's up till he sees his kids, realizes they're smaller, and proceeds to do a headcount. His shout brings Bifur and Bofur running along with his wife and then he has to reassure Bifur because he's cousin thinks the ax has messed him up even more and Bofur's too busy expressing his shock by teaching the kids a whole lot of new words to help.

I think it'd be funny if none of the family groups shared this with the others so they didn't figure it out till Bag-End, but I also cannot imagine the entire group getting through even the first meeting of all 13 without either someone letting something slip or someone else just asking "anyone else remember how this meeting went the first time?"

Either way Bilbo greets the first dwarf(ves) to show up at his door with: "I made dinner. Try not to destroy my plumbing this time" And is immediately hugged.

Gandalf, who was not sent back, is very confused, but he will believe them if anyone actually tells him.

Alternatively, everyone wakes up simultaneously the morning after the unexpected party just "WHERE AM I?" And it's a big teary reunion with several people ending up on the floor because they ran out the door and into each other, and they stay at Bilbo's for at least a few days comparing notes and reassessing their plan. A lot of the first day is spent crying, and then of course there's a big grocery trip and a lot of cooking because there's 15 people there and Bilbo refuses to not feed them well before they all leave.

Either way, this leads both to changes in the journey and various interactions with people, but also to some new jokes. In particular, there is a lot of "didn't we pass that tree/stone/funky landmark already?" which leads to at least one "didn't we pass-" "enough with that joke!" "I'm serious this time!" (he's right, they're lost).

[almayver]

Did you listen to the space dome joined on twitter last night? https://x.com/Maileen_T/status/1855620833315889656

Anon. May your pillow be always cool and your favorite snack always near. Thank you for telling me, what! I'm actually not really on twitter, I mostly stalk the man's account, so there was a real chance I would have never found this.

This man. Lurks like no one in the world. He found this random space and was like yeah sure. Let me join. And he talked in English the whole time!!! He is so sweet and the people doing the space too, the entire first bit is basically him interviewing them. He was also drunk btw (He entered around 52:30 if anyone wants to listen)

Some highlights here because I want to save them for myself :

Under the cut because I went overboard as I often do but in my defense it was 2 hours and a half of yapping

Apparently, Thai people talk better English when they are drunk. Who knew.

They had a whole convo about the woes of translating and how bad Google Translate is, specially with Thai

He loves the show so much and is so thankful that people like it 🥺

He hopes to work with the guys again

Tay used to have a big difficulty with crying and during the PP workshops they worked through that because Peach was going to be crying a lot (And geez, did that fucking pay off, holy shit)

Someone finally asked why as a comedy it makes all of us cry so much and his answer was “Well you laugh until you cry 🥁”

Someone said that they were expecting a happy ending, and he said that the show being about ghosts, it is about goodbyes and learning how to live in the present and moving on

“Anything can happen in Peaceful Property, and some people might say it's a bad ending but to me, it's just life guys” (he fully did an evil laugh I swear)

“It's goodbye, technically a bad ending? Maybe it's like a happy goodbye”

It's a good ending For him

“Are you going to kill Home” “I have no comment”

Normally he doesn't use Twitter at all, but he knew how big Polca was and wanted to interact with everyone, but after this he is going to basically quit twitter because it's not that good for him. But he is going to miss everyone 🥺

This man threw Tay and New under the bus so hard:

He really said, “They always have like some kind of hot chemistry. I don't know why, but I can not like stop them” He wanted the show to be as relaxed and normal as possible and their chemistry is their normal 🤷🏽 what can you do.

He said to bring tissues (The fear is real)

They had to cut a lot of dialogue because of time, but also to make the pacing better. But also because some ideas were too expensive

The biggest change was of Home's car crash (he said the words break up, and they teased him hard):

“If you could change something in the series, would you, and what would it be?” “How about Peaceful Property but it is a BL” (This asshole)

But being serious, he wouldn't change anything. They went through a lot of drafts, and he really loves what they ended up with

“I feel like when I speak in English, I sound smart” (Same. You think I sound weird in English, I'm worse in Spanish for some reason)

He had a hard time with The Gifted for different reasons, and that's why he went to do advertisement and commercial work afterward. After some years he stopped and wondered why he was doing this, and he realized that what he really wants to be is a storyteller and tell stories that would touch people

They asked for funny moments and he said this:

He doesn't like seeing people cry. Ironic

The hardest one was with Tay, because he worried about him

There wasn't a lot of improv, but in episode 8 during the scene where Home is dying, he didn't want Tay to focus on the script. So he just gave him one line, and the others are all things that he came up with during the scene. For example, “Who is going to play with my sister” is such a good line that Tay came up with himself (What the fuck Tay)

His first impressions of them: Tay talked a lot and New focused on 20 things at the same time

But he has grown to see they care a lot, sometimes they don't show it but you feel it, and they are also really hardworking each in their own way

They also went to university at the same time, and they are very close in age (he is the same age as New) so they get along really well, and they aren't afraid of speaking up if they have something in their mind (or sometimes gossip really loudly next to him to subtly let him know)

Tay was really popular in Uni, apparently. Dome used to see the both of them around, but he never talked to them.

They said destiny brought Taynew to him, but he said it was more like karma

Him and Mook used to bet who was going to win when they were bickering (New usually won)

He apologized for the bts videos being too short because the shoot tended to be very chaotic and Dome asked the people in charge of filming the videos to give the actors a rest because he felt it was too overwhelming for them sometimes

During COVID he spent like 6 months where every afternoon he had a beer with Junior and played video games because they didn't have work

Peach was originally a bartender!

The family restaurant is in the map of properties, and he did a bit of promo for it:

He loves all the ghost backstories, but the one that hit him the most was Phoom and Vicha

He grew up watching a lot of American TV shows, like Glee (???? of all the shows. Ryan Murphy leave me the fuck alone challenge?)

Peaceful Property was the working title actually, and they came up with the thai name after. He came up with a bunch of names and the people at gmmtv picked the On sale one.

“Peaceful property is not that peaceful, right? But it's peaceful in its heart”

Home does come from his name

Peach-Home doing the dance in episode 7 was not originally in the script, but he threw it in there for the Polcas (thanks P'Dome) because he knew people would like to see them do a bit of traditional dance

He recommended Beef and Baby Reindeer and an anime called Made in Abyss

Oh he really liked Ted Lasso, it says that he felt like the show made him a better person for sure (I did suspect from his birthday message. A man of taste)

He has never had ghost experiences that he remembers, but he said that his mom was scared once because once when he was little he was playing with a “boy” and there was no one there

While filming episode 7, after Jan read the little poem thing the wind came out at the perfect moment, and they got the shot. He said it was a little bit of magic

If he did Beef with Thai actors he would cast Tay because when he is angry he is very charming. (Valid. But I think that is just him always)

When people got jokingly mad at him he thought people were seriously angry at him (Sorry P'Dome, i swear it's with love)

At first he didn't feel like Tay and Jan were that similar, but while filming the show he said that Jan is the only one that can listen to Tay talk nonstop without complaining, and that they tend to laugh at the same things and have the same smile (thanks P'Tha for making them siblings)

He is glad that the 4 of them got even closer and became a little family in real life too

THERE IS A FINAL VIDEO EDIT FROM DOME EVERYONE CHEER!!!!!! He already finished it!

(Also he picked Welcome to my life for the Home edit because it was one of his favorite songs when he was in school. 👉🏽 Emo kid fucking detected. We will not be discussing how that was also my favorite song when I entered high school)

And that was the rough “summary” of the space that no one asked for. If you read all that, have a cookie.

[jaune-submissive-and-breedable]

He was dying, there was no other way to explain everything that kept happening to him. Every morning he woke up and felt like shit, his arms and legs felt as though they had been stretched in various ways, his pelvis was always sore, and some mornings it hurt to sit down because his ass was sore. Not to mention he was always super dehydrated. He tried asking his teammates but they didn’t know what was up, if anything Jaune thought they all looked far to relaxed every morning. The only thing he could think of was the healthy smoothies Ren made him every night.

Jaune groaned as he slumped into a chair at the cafetaria table, hissing loudly as he did. Across and beside him, his teammates looked on with worried expressions.

"Are you feeling alright, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, placing a hand on his back.

"Yeah Jaune-Jaune, You look like you've caught the plague" Nora chirped, taking a big bite of her pancake.

"ARrrggghhhhh.....I think I'm Dying" he asnwered, garnering stunned faces from his team.

"Oh MY OUM, YOU DO HAVE THE PLAGUE! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Nora screeched, immediately jumping from the table and making a cross with her index fingers.

"Nora, Jaune's not dying" Lian said calmly "probably just a bad dream"

Pyrrha smiled and rubbed his back "I agree with Lian. You aren't dying, but you do look like you've had a bad dream. Was it?"

The boy in question only let his head rest in his hand, eyes closed and a frown on his face. Grumbling some incoherent sentences before turning to his team.

"I....don't know.....All I know is I wake up with my mouth dry and salty, skin all crusty, my pelvis sore, and...I can barely sit down some times"

He looked at his teammates, all trying to surpress laughs and smiles. "You guys hear anything last night?"

"No sorry"

"Nope!"

"Unfortunately not"

He groaned once more and let his head fall on the table. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed they appeared quite chirping and refreshed every morning. It threw him for a loop, but he just chalked it up to them somehow getting a good night's sleep unlike him. Suddenly a thought popped into his head as he thought about his teammates. Lian's healthy smoothies she made for everyone before bed.

"I think I found the culprit behind my lack of sleep" he stated, unaware of his teammates looking at each other with worry "Lian......I think your healthy smoothies are giving me nightmares.."

The girl in question appeared shocked and apologized "I'm sorry, Jaune. I'll try to adjust them accordingly"

The three girls waited with bated breath for his response, each exchanging quick glances at the other.

"Fine......" they heard him say. Each released a collective sigh of relief that when unnoticed by the arc.

"Also try to make them taste better" Nora piped up, her other teammates agreeing with her statement, much to Lian's dismay.

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

Later that night:

PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP

GLURK GLURK GLURK GLURK

From Jaune's bed, two feminine figures held his body in between them their sweat-drenched bodies. The two in question were Lian, at the head, and Nora at his rear. Both panting and grunting as they ground and thrust his sleeping form. Lian grinds her drooling pussy into his mouth, nearly going cross-eyed from the pleasures. Meanwhile, Nora frantically thrusted into his asshole with a pink ursine strap-on toy. To the sides, Pyrrha could be seen rubbing her clit as she watched her teammates violate her crush's body.

Unbeknownst to jaune, his teammates had grown affectionate for him. They would drop little hits for him like purposely forgetting to lock the bathroom door while showering

"FUCK! His ass is getting fatter every day!" Nora grunted as she roughly slapped the surprisingly plump and firm behind of her team leader. "Your training works wonders Rha-rha"

Lian moaned and leaned forward, using his chest for support, rolling her hips against his mouth. Spreading her juices around his face.

"Easy, Nora" she whispered harshly, "You shouldn't leave marks. He's bound to get suspicious if he finds marks on him"

Lian leaned forward a bit more til Jaune's cock was direct in front of her. The phallic organ still leaking cum from previous ejaculations. She took a long drag of cum from the tip, letting the unique flavor envelope her tongue before she pulled it back in her mouth. Gulping it down greedily.

"but.....I think he's becoming immune to the knock drug...It took longer for him to fall asleep today" Lian pushed herself off his chest and face, taking up behind the blonde's head. "What do we do if he wakes up one day? It'll be kinda hard to explain"

Pyrrha laughed at her teammate's concern, not worried about the possibility presented. Ceasing the stimulation of her clitoris, she rose up and made her way over the Jaune's bunk, discarding her nightgown to the side as she did. Seeing her approach, Nora pulled her toy out of Jaune's ass and back away, a knowing smile on her face.

"It's simple Lian" she purred as she positioned herself between his legs. Grabbing hold of his ankles, she lifted his legs high in the air, and in one swift motion, she pushed his sensitive cock inside her hungry snatch, aiming to take him Amazon style. Smiling contently as she felt him burst just from insertion.

"We convince him it's all a nghtmare~"

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

if it's ok can you do a bad sanses x scp child reader. where nightmare find them in her negative universe all alone trying to survive (since she lost her father and friends) cause something bad happened and takes them in as their healer (cause the child doesn't want to kill). nightmare found her when she was 7/8 years old, nightmare would see a bit of his passive self in her, and the child would be neutral with the whole situation given they have seen crazier things from where their from (and just wanted to escape their situation from their world). but is a good kid and despite not wanting to hurt anyone she would rather get themselves hurt to protect those she cares for (would literally take a hit from anyone who tries to hurt dadmare, killer, horror and dust because of their past trauma and defend them with her telekinesis). their drawbacks of their abilities is if she gets extremely hurt or looses a limb when having zero energy she can't regenerate until her stamina is helped (energy like full sleep and have food or beverage basically having good stamina) but still can't die. (this is based off an oc of mine so here is more info with a pic to help) she sometime would have her breakdowns like the others from past trauma (also her soul would be perseverance) I'm sorry for the long read i hope your ok with this and if you have any questions I'm happy to answer :3

Holy shit this took too long to write-

Featuring: Nightmare, Killer, Dust and Ted.

Masterlist

Nightmare

Ah yes. Another dumb kid for him to add to the collection.

Since you were quite useful with your healing powers and all, he took you in. Big mistake.

Nightmare now finds himself caring for another kid (the other kids are the Killer Dust and Ted), oh well.

Is very impressed with your ability to regenerate limbs.. it's... Fascinating..

His grumpy self turns into one a bit more content.

You're like a memory of himself in the past, the voice that always keeps ticking in his mind, except you are real. "I am too.."

Didn't find out about Killer bringing you into missions until Ted came furiously to him demanding to know why would his boss let a child go to mass murderer missions.

Spoiler alert, he didn't know and quickly became enraged, that's his kid, how dare Killer bring you to missions without his knowledge!?

Nightmare finds it adorable when you try to protect him, he's already a god silly, he can't die!

Dust

Stay still, he wants to study you.

He may or may not like SCPs...

Holds a notebook and pen, writing down any information he can get out of you.

Impressed with your powers, but not surprised, he knows Nightmare wouldn't take in a healer who can't defend themselves.

Watches in the shadows, if you need him just call his name.

Finds Killer's idea of bringing you to missions dumb, but there's nothing he can do can he?

You two may have time alone, and he uses that time to gossip about Killer's dumbass.

On really really rare occasions, he'll vent about his past, about the guilt he feels about his actions.

Killer

Another one to be influenced by him.

Nightmare doesn't let you near killer without supervision, that's a big no no.

He doesn't want to wake up hearing laughter with his face painted with permanent marker again.

Killer likes having someone around, especially because you can

He finds it cute when you try to protect him, you're not even to his waist! How are you going to fight a fucking god like dream?

Well, his jaw is on the ground now. "HOLY SHIT NIGHTMARE WHAT KIND OF POWERS DOES THIS KID HAVE???"

Yep, he's bringing you in missions now.

Also Killer named a cat after you.

Ted

The fact that you need to be healthy to be able to regenerate is the perfect excuse for him to cook more food.

He repays you when you heal him he makes your favorite dessert.

Ted thinks you're too naive and innocent for battle, and gets pretty annoyed every time you go in missions with them.

Even knowing you can regenerate and defend yourself it still keeps him worried, what if you run out of energy?

Also blames Killer for any scratch you get, he's the one who made you go with them so he's the one to blame.

He's the one who's with you almost 24/7, acts like an actual big brother, may even apresent you to his Papyrus.

When you defend him in an argument, he feels so fucking special, no he doesn't have tears on his eyes you're just hallucinating.

[newx-menfan]

Yeah- a lot of fans weren’t thrilled about the “Prodigy/Hellion” climax after years of build up; I definitely thought it was fine if there’s more TO the fight than what we actually saw (like Prodigy/Hellion working together) but it definitely seemed to alienate some readers- if the “Laura/Hellion confrontation” sucks as well… I don’t think NYX will recover after, sales wise, because the major SELLING point of this book was the “the return of X-Men soap opera theatrics”, a new “youth book”, and it being “a stealth NXM book”…

There’s a LOT of X-23 fans who are basically reading this solely for Hellion and Laura… if the “Love triangle” ends up being “Local/Laura/Synch” or “Local/Laura/Kiden”… I could see it blowing up in the writers faces HARD…

Kiden hasn’t been included in books in YEARS… and honestly fans would rather see Laura with Jubes than a D-list character that vanished from X-Men lore more or less completely; I know you’re not a big Jubes/Laura fan (neither am I)- but it’s undoubtedly the BIGGEST female ship Laura has and I could see this basically being “Karolina Dean and Julie Power” and Jubilee fans being PISSED (personally I would rather have Kiden over Jubes, but I know that I am in the minority)…

The Synch relationship was miserable… everyone WANTS it gone… no one is going to be happy if Everett is the other part of the love triangle and THAT’S the only thing brought back from the Krakoa era (I like Everett- but even I HATED him with Laura)…

Local is basically a character that will 100% disappear after this book is over- while nowhere NEAR as bad as Valmont in “Catwoman”… he’s just not going to reliably stick around- it’ll be “Haymaker” or “Trinary “ all over again…

Hellion is the ONLY successful hetero relationship that’s been teased for Laura- BOTH Warren and Synch tanked HARD with readers and people forget Bendis even planned teen Scott to be a thing…

Honestly X-23 fans are getting sick of Laura’s storytelling being just lackluster romances and I think if the Hellion/Laura reunion ends up really poorly written- it’ll be hard to do any romantic storylines for Laura in the future and get ANY fan readership.

Hellion is the ONLY one fans seem to be largely clamoring for besides Jubilee, AND Hellion and Laura was one of the LAST well written comic relationships represented- no one cares for the newer comic “ships” anymore. There is no fan following for ANY of the newer relationships lthe same way there is with Jott, Scemma, ect…

Honestly- they need to cut down on Kamala time, and if this issue DOESN’T do it… I don’t think the book will survive.

I like Kamala and enjoy her as a character- but X-Men fans objectively don’t want a stealth “Ms Marvel Solo”. It was fine for the first four issues- but as a team book, it NEEDS to be more balanced out.

I actually was happy with Empath being the “bigger bad”- in PART because I want a “Hellion/Empath throw-down”… but also because Manuel IS a really interesting character, that got buried in X-Men Lore.

But yeah- I think the first four issues has been fine, but I definitely think this book needs to pivot a bit, or sales numbers will undoubtedly drop.

My biggest worry is that they originally wanted QQ for “The Krakoan” and didn’t personally request Hellion, even though he makes MORE sense for this book- will that translate into them basically IGNORING Hellion as a character and writing him as a Quentin copy? Or will they actually take his characterization and history into account?

I guess we will find out on Wednesday…

🥺🥺🥺

😭😭😭

Friendship bracelet. In the trash.

[volivolition]

DAY 4: DRAMA - Put on your prettiest face for the masses!

gonna start adding silly captions actually. [POINTS ACCUSINGLY] MELTY FUCK (AFFECTIONATE)!!

[daily-hanamura]

[artsycooky13]

top 3 fave bbys in the burrito show (bonus SUPER LONG tags on how i feel bout the characters)

[danwhobrowses]

It shouldn't need to be said but I'm seeing a lot of vitriol towards Ashton about their actions and I have to say I don't agree with them.

At the clock tower Fearne brought up the shard, stated that in her opinion Ashton should take the shard because she didn't want it. Ashton decided then as a result they'd take it, but because it was an extreme risk made very aware to them all they knew the other Hells wouldn't allow them to go through with it. Ashton asked Fearne if she was okay with both of them going together alone with the plan, reiterating that they didn't want to put this on Fearne, that if they died Fearne would not be to blame, and that they have no intention of dying, and Fearne said yes.

Fearne having second thoughts at the Ziggurat was just worry, because she cares deeply for Ashton, Ashton kissing her was not manipulation either; it was letting go of fear, having no regret with the person they also care deeply for and taking the risk. And yeah, it was frightening, 10 rounds of perpetual fiery near-death situations and one actual death situation; Laura is fuming, Ashley cannot look, Liam is playing Mad World on loop in his mind, even Matt is completely on edge, but they survived. Accusations that Ashton manipulated Fearne to selfishly take the shard seem to misinterpret the shard saga as well as Fearne and Ashton's characters, they will get a very intense amount of chastising for sure, but it will be out of love, out of the fear that they were going to lose them, not because they thought Ash was manipulative.

[hplonesomeart]

Puzzlevison screenshot redraw!! On paper!! With water color!! Wahoo!!

I don’t have much credible experience with coloring traditional art—usually just doodling or sketching in my spare time for fun. But I’ve wanted to try expanding the different mediums I use and letting myself learn from them. It’s a nice change of pace and allows me to take a step back from responsibilities. And I’ve needed an excuse to keep working in this sketchbook so here we are!! I think in the end of this I might’ve treated the watercolors too similar to acrylic paints lol. Ah oh well all part of the ✨learning experience ✨

Also here have some goofy work behind-the-scenes progress photos