#but i don't really get why we need it either

[im4rmy]

when he hurts you during sex by accident - OT7 (idol AU)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Mark　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• after growing up with only men, he's still trying to size down his strenght when he's around you, but when he's lost in the pleasure of pounding into you chasing his climax... he loses that last thread of control. and that's a little too much for you.

• you squeeze his shoulders to get his attention but he doesn't seem to notice. "mark- wait, slow down please"

• nothing. but when he thrusts again roughly, hurting you, you scream and squirm away from him, finally getting his attention.

• "what's wrong baby?" "you were hurting me- ugh" you groan clutching your lower belly.

• mark widens his eyes. "w-what? oh my god, i'm sorry! are you okay baby?"

• you take a deep breath and relax your legs, feeling the ache already fading. you give him a little smile and get closer to him again, but his face and body are completely shutted down.

• "i'm so sorry... it's- are you okay?" "yeah, it's nothing. don't worry, okay?"

• he keeps on apologizing again and again until you snort and decide that the night it's over

• he feels so guilty that he won't touch you again for almost 2 weeks

• "i just- i fear i will hurt you again" "that was an accident, baby. i trust you"

• let's say that the sex with him will be VERY gentle and careful for the next two months or so.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Renjun　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• he's not rough in bed but he's freaky: he likes to tie you up (and to be tied up but this is not the case).

• but tonight he seems to be a little too lost in the moment to notice that you arching your back that way is not from pleasure but pain: you're lying on your belly with your hands handcuffed behind you while a whiny renjun pounds into you from the back.

• and when you feel like your back is about to break in half, you decide that is the right time to use your safe word. "APPLE PIE!"

• renjun instantly stops his movements and takes a breath to regain awareness of his surroundings and when you try to relax your back squinting in pain, he comes out of you gently. "are you okay baby?"

• "no please- u-untie me"

• you don't need to say anything else: your hands are free in no time and you collapse on the bed with a whine, face buried in the pillow.

• "talk to me pretty, is it your back?" you nod against the pillow and you feel his warm hands on you, softly massaging you.

• you breathe a few times relaxing your whole body, then you turn around to lay on your back now. you meet his worried eyes and offer him a little smile "i'm okay now"

• "are you sure? we can stop-" "nono, it's okay, really"

• you lift a little to kiss him and he reclutantly melts into your warmth again. he's still a little hesitant but it doesn't last long: you two comunicate a lot and you have a safe word for a reason. it's not the first time one of you isn't comfortable in a certain sexual activity since you both love to experiment new things. you say the safe word, the other stops and then you can continue your love making without overthinking it.

• that's why now renjun is thrusting in you again, slowly and deeply, passionately but gently, kissing you and taking care of you in his embrace. you smile at him and anything else doesn't exist anymore.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jeno　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• you love sex with jeno. you absolutely LOVE it: he's hot af, he knows what he's doing, he's a pro at using his hands and mouth. he isn't even that rough but he's strong and sometimes he doesn't notice if he's gripping your sides or your wirsts with too much strenght. let's be honest, you don't notice either in the moment.

• in the morning, however, you feel the skin on your hips BURNING. and when you look in the mirror and see dark bruises here and there... you know that jeno can't see these or he'll never touch you again. (you can't let that happen omg)

• but when you can't seem to mask the winces every time you twist your body, he knows something is wrong. he ignores your protests and lift your hoodie, revealing your secret.

• "what the fuck happened??" he looks at you worried and when you can't even look at him nor answer- he realizes it's his fault.

• "oh my god baby- did i do that? i'm so sorry, why didn't you tell me i was hurting you?!" "because you weren't! i swear it didn't hurt till this morning"

• he looks at you with mortified puppy eyes and hugs you tight. "i'm so sorry baby. does it hurt a lot?"

• you giggle and enjoy his cuddles. "no it's okay, really. it'll fade quickly, don't overthink it okay?" "mhmh"

• you stayed cuddled up like that for a while, he even skipped his gym session with jaemin just to stay with you and do absolutely nothing but spoil you with endless cuddles.

• the next night he makes up to you eating you out like never before.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Haechan　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• sex with him is messy and loud and whiny. so it's understandable that he doesn't notice immediately when your pleasure moans turn into pain ones.

• when he angles himself wrong and thrust in you roughly, you choke out a cry and flinch, but he thrusts in you again making you scream.

• he finally looks at you sensing that something is wrong and he widens his eyes seeing your hurt expression. he's out of you in a second.

• "are you okay?" "fuck- ow"

• you hold your legs to your chest to ease the pain and take some deep breaths.

• "y/n you're scaring me, say something" "i'm okay, i'm okay" "can i take a look?"

• his soft and gentle voice and his warm hand caressing your knee are enough to make you relax. you nod and let him spread your legs.

• "you're not bleeding sweetie. what if i prepare a hot bath and we can cuddle until it gets cold and then i massage your whole body with my lotion and then i cuddle you until you fall asleep in my arms?"

• you giggle at him, locking your arms around his neck letting him lift you up and bring you to the bathroom. "why i have the feeling that you're going to enjoy this more than me?"

• "impossible! i'm using my good and expensive lotion for you!" "and rubbing it on all of my naked body is not worth the waste?" "it'll be SO worth it omg"

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jaemin　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• jaemin is a HUGE... anal lover. you have to be honest: you don't enjoy it as much as him but he loves it so every now and then you give in, despite the initial discomfort you know you'll feel.

• but today you seem to not be able to overcome the stiffness, not when you're pressed against your door, completely naked, with your buff boyfriend thrusting in and out of you from the back holding your breasts like his life depends on it. that would be the hottest thing you two did in a while (and you two do a lot of steamy sex sessions so-) if you could at least relax just a little...

• "wait jaem- please stop" "w-what?" "i-it hurts- please"

• jaemin stops his movements and release the pressure on your body. "are you okay?"

• you collapse back against his body. "i'm sorry baby- i'm sorry i can't" "what's wrong princess?" "i don't like it- it hurts"

• he starts to caress your belly leaving sweet kisses on your shoulder. "i'm sorry... was i too rough?" "no it's just- i can't relax tonight"

• you can FEEL his smirk against your skin. "mhhh my girl wants to relax? i know a thing or two that will do the work"

• in less than thirty seconds your discomfort is well forgotten and replaced by the pure bliss of his head buried deep between your thighs. a win is a win.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Chenle　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• it cannot happen. during sex, chenle is entirely focused on you. he can't lose himself enough to not notice if he's hurting you.

• his every move is oriented towards YOUR pleasure so it's hard to believe he would hurt you even by accident.

• the worst it can happen is him doing something you don't really enjoy.

• "oh you don't like this? noted. and what if i do it like this instead- yeahhh that's my girl c'mon"

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jisung　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• jisung is not rough or wild in bed, at all. but- he's big. you're the experienced and freaky one in bed so you can play and tease him all you want masking it as foreplay but honestly- you do all of that to make sure that you're wet enough to take him without accidents (and of course you enjoy the foreplay).

• but today jisung is tipsy from wine and he seems to feel like taking control. you don't mind it, he's hot af and you're really down bad for the clumsy and awkward boy.

• so when he eagerly undresses you and BOLDLY licks and kisses your breasts you're on cloud nine, but when he goes straight between your thighs and you feel him against your core- you flinch and widen your eyes.

• "wait ji- SHIT"

• he enters in you (or at least he tries to) but you're not lubrificated enough. you curse squirming away from him, who is looking at you confused as fuck.

• you get on your feet to ease the pain and shot him a glare. "are you insane? you can't do that straight away! ouch"

• you moan in discomfort and take a few steps around his room. you're not angry at him, of course, so you take a deep breath to calm your scared heart.

• "did i- did i really hurt you?"

• you look at him and your heart melts in your lungs: he's on his knees on the bed, very naked, cheeks flushed and eyes popping out. you sigh and go back to the bed, sitting beside him. "baby, you're too big to just slide in"

• "t-too big?" "yes baby" "so i hurt you every time we-" "no! make love to you is my favourite thing in the world. but i have to make sure that i'm ready to take you. you understand?"

• jisung keeps looking at you with puppy eyes. then his gaze goes down, directly between your bare legs. he wouldn't be able to do that without alcohol in his system. he faintly nods. "i understand. i should touch you first"

• you blink a few times and try to answer but you feel his fingers on your clit and your words die in your throat. you feel his unexperienced but effective movements and relax instantly.

• "is this working?" you laugh giving him a kiss. "yes, my good boy"

• (he came right in that moment)

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[rafeysdeer]

imperfect for you (aka insecure reader x comforting rafe)

kook!reader x rafe cameron

prompt: a party that was supposed to be relaxing and to clear the head goes terribly wrong, leaving a very anxious and insecure reader, good thing she has her very caring boyfriend who knows exactly how to take care of her.

a/n: okay, that's the first time i write for rafe, i really like obx and rafe, so i tried my best in here, but i didn't really like it, i think it's bcs it's my first time writing about him. english is not my first language, i hope you guys like it 💗

You weren't exactly excited about going to this party, but you knew your boyfriend was, and you didn't want to be a party pooper, and at least you'd be with him, nothing bad would happen if you gave up and went to a party, right?

Well, you were wrong, terribly wrong, even though you were a kook, you never exactly fit in, you never got the right friends, and even though you were pretty, guys just didn't seem to be interested in you.

That was until, Rafe Cameron laid eyes on you, in your little sundress, having a drink at the club, just looking for some peace, you looked almost ethereal in his eyes, and he just knew you were meant to be together, it took a while to convince you of that. You spent most of the talk thinking it was some bad joke, because there was no way, Rafe Cameron, the king of kooks, was there, talking to you, interested in you and not on your hot friend, or literally anyone else.

You two get along almost instantly, his charm had you wrapped around his finger, and you loved it.

It had been months since you two started dating, but you still didn't feel like you fit into his social circle. So when, the first moment he separated from you at the party, a girl purposely bumped into you, spilling her drink on your short dress and whispering 'Whore' in your ear, you were sure.

Rafe didn't get it why you suddenly looked so upset, but he wanted everything, but to see his girl upset, so when he suggested for you, that you two go home, you happily headed towards the truck.

"Sweetheart, you need to talk to me. What the hell happened that you suddenly look like a kicked puppy?" and it only took his playful words for you to burst into tears in the passenger seat, it wasn't just the girl or the stained dress, everything looked too much, and you looked so small, a girl being an bitch was all you needed to lose it.

Rafe immediately looked at you with his blue eyes filled with concern. "Hey, love, I was just kidding, you don't look like a kicked puppy, I swear." he says trying to understand what happened to make you break down.

You looked up at him, your pretty eyes shining with tears. "I just-, I don't feel like I fit in, Rafey, like i fit right in with you, but i'm just unwanted by everyone else," she says, her voice cracking with tears. "I tried to fit in, but I've been around these people my whole life, and they've never liked me, and now I feel like I'm holding you back, or making them look down at you"

Now, he looks like a kicked puppy as he looks at you with a worried expression. "Honey, you don't have to fit in, those people at the party, they don't like me either, they look at me like shit too and that's not your fault, not at all, you don't need to fit in with them because you think you have to because of me, the only person I need by my side, is you."

She blinks her bright eyes at him, as if the words had run away from her mind. The car stops in front of the house, and he gets out, opening the door for her, greeting her with a kiss before the words even come back to her. "I love you, no matter what any of those assholes think, because you're the one who's here for me, not them."

She looks at him, looking almost wonderstruck, a smile breaking across her face, wrapping her arms around his neck. "The only person I need is you, Rafe," she says, knowing that the feeling was mutual. "What do you say we go inside, put you in some comfy clothes, and watch Sex and the City?" She laughs at how well he knows her as they walk into the house, his hand around her waist.

"Sounds perfect."

[alwaysobsessed777]

PANCAKES FOR DINNER - N.M.

So I'm not sure how many words are in this....but there's not warnings, this is just kinda cute???Anyways....enjoyyyyyy

The car ride was tense. I hadn't planned on leaving so soon but work changed what it had wanted me to do. Nika's grip on the steering wheel bleached her knuckles, her jaw stayed tense. I couldn't help but feel guilty, I randomly sprang this info on her the last second. Our summer plans before she went back to UConn for summer training and I went back to working out my musical career were ruined.

"I'm really sorry about this...Nika, I'll make it up to you," her jaw seemed to relax, her hands loosened it's grip.

"No need to apologize, I'm just....I just wanted to spend this next month with you," I almost wanted to spill every feeling, every thought I had about this woman right now after hearing those words. But we were just friends, nothing more.

"sometimes I wish I had a normal dream, like, being a doctor or...or whatever other people want their jobs to be."

A smile spread across the girl's face, a silent celebration went off in my head. "Being the next big pop star is no easy thing. You're dreams were just stronger than others, that's why you're making it a reality."

"Becoming a professional basketball player isn't that easy either."

She snickered. "I'm far from professional, but I'll take it."

"College.... professional....same thing," I paused, "you'll definitely go pro though. You're literally amazing at what you do."

A silence stretched between us, a quiet awkwardness. "I don't know if I will."

"Nika, please, if they don't have you going to like the Aces or the Storm.... they've lost one of the best players to ever walk this Earth."

As heat rose to her cheeks, a small smirk formed on my lips, "Stop, that's the biggest lie you've ever told....and you've told a lot."

"I never lie," that was lie in itself. It's not like I've been lying to her for three years now on how I only wanna be friends.

"Puh-leahs, all you do is lie. Like, when I first met you, you thought you could fool me by saying your straight...did you think I was that stupid," I rolled my eyes, "but it is very kind of you to speak so highly of me." Her dramatic hand-to-the-heart, the batting of her eyelashes, I couldn't help but laugh a little.

The light banter almost making me forget the fact I was getting ready to get on a plane....key word, almost. My palms began to sweat, I could feel my mind start to spiral, I hated planes....and I was getting ready to get in one.

"Hey," The girl beside me slides her hand to my thigh, resting it there for some comfort. "You alright?"

"Aerophobia."

"What?"

"Fear of flying in planes," I quickly faced her, her face softened.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" Her hand intertwined with mine. The warmth of her hands fighting with the chill of mine, it brought me back from my spiral. Only a little.

I nod, "look at me." Her hands encompassing my face, her thumbs rubbed gently across my cheekbones. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. I'll even wait here with you til you have to get on, alright?"

I nodded, pulling her into a hug. A hug from her seemed to make the rest of the world cease to exist. All I needed was her, her warmth, and the comfort she provided.

But, I couldn't have just that. I had to get on some stupid plane to achieve some stupid dream.

"Alright, we're gonna go inside and just chill til you get on the plane, okay?" I nod, "I better get a call when you land in Cali."

I chuckle, "you will. No doubts about it."

We walked in, hands together, and I couldn't help but let the nerves get to me again. "I wish you could come with me."

Nika's smile seemed to brighten the world around us, "if I could, I would. Sadly, I gotta stay here in ole Croatia and hang with the family."

"I'm gonna miss you," then my thoughts spiraled. The possibility of a crash, even though it was like 1 in 100,000 that I could get in a fatal one. The thought of never seeing Nika again. I wouldn't have been able to tell her how I feel....so I did it. "Nika, I just gotta let you know I have so many feelings for you. Not just the friendly ones, like, the more than friends ones. I wish I was with you, like, I like you so much. I just feel like I make things up in my head that you might like me too, then I go down this rabbit hole of you never actually liking me, not even as a friend. Anyways, I feel like when I'm around you I can't help but feel like the entire world couldn't provide me with as much happiness and you do. I....I...God I think I love you, Nika."

Her eyes widened, surprise mixed with whatever feelings she had towards me, it was written all over her face. I should've just jumped on the plane and hoped it crashed cause I felt more embarrassed now than ever before. At least I'd be at peace with being on the plane if it meant never knowing what Nika really wanted to say.

"How long have you thought that?"

Not the questions, "for...for about three years."

She nodded, stepping closer to me, "You really think I would ever not like you?

""Platonic or romantic?"

"Either."

"Both....I just thought I liked you so much I was making things up in m-"

She cut me off. Her lips crashed to mine. The way her hands pulled me impossibly closer by the waist. My hands shot to her hair, wanting to bring her even closer to me. I had always wanted this.

"God, I've wanted to do that for years," her whispered words left me shocked. I pulled back a bit.

"What?"

"Y/N, you have no clue how bad I've been wanting to do that. Ever since I've gotten to know you...it's like you draw me even closer...wanting more....needing more. I just thought maybe I was reading into things. You're confident and charming, why wouldn't I think you were like that with everyone. But to know you feel the same way....I wish I would've made the move a long time ago."

I couldn't help but smile. Her words causing a heat to rise through my neck, settling on my cheeks. "You're joking."

"Nope," popping the 'p', "I couldn't have been more serious in my life."

My flight was being called, and I couldn't help but notice the nerves had been settled...or I was just currently distracted by the fact Nika had feelings for me.

"So....I gotta go," before I could keep going, Nika planted another soft kiss on my lips, "but maybe I should tell my manager nevermind."

Her laughed filled the space, "Nope, gotta become the biggest pop star in the world. I need you to surpass Taylor Swift one day."

"Whatever," I turned to leave, but took one more glance back at the brunette, "I'll call you when I get off, promise."

A/N: I got one done after months of not being on here!!! Hopefully this is good...enough cause I don't know how I feel about it. @ittiwdwysylm here ya go, Nika fic out!!

[27spoons]

Feeling Myself | Natalie Scatorccio

summary: Your best friend's been ignoring you since you hooked up a few days ago. Determined to speak with her again, you decide to visit her in the changing rooms after a soccer game. What's the worst that happens?

pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

warnings: porn/what plot, smut (afab!reader), slightly ooc nat (in the name of porn), no proofreading we die like jackie

a/n: this shit corny asf LMAOOOO (this is a "what-if" from part two.) (also see: i had a thought while writing part two. this is 90% smut.) (this is also 10x as crude as the previous smut I've done sorry not sorry)

wc: 3430

[you don't need to read either part to read this.]

part one / part two

A quick recap of the events that took place the past week.

You slept with your best friend at a party. Your best friend who happens to be knee-deep in denial when it comes to her sexuality. She's been avoiding you like the plague since then. You've just finished watching her play a soccer game, and now you're awkwardly standing outside the locker rooms.

Great. Recap over.

Okay, thirty minutes is overkill, especially for Nat, who typically likes getting in and out as fast as possible. Sure, maybe you'd spend thirty minutes in a shower at home, but in a public place? With the floors that definitely have bacteria on them that could kill a Victorian child?

That's practically a carnal sin.

You aren't sure why you're steeling yourself; I mean… odds are she just left through the other entrance, right? And it's not like you aren't allowed in this change room, it's just the general change room for the school facilities…

Whatever.

You stand up straight and throw the door open to the changing room, not that surprised to find it completely empty—save for the sound of a shower running in the back of the space. Realistically, if it is Nat, you should probably let her finish her shower. You don't really know where the two of you stand right now, and intruding on a shower hardly seems like a good time to find out. And, if it isn't Nat, intruding on a shower would be a really, really bad idea.

Still, you decide to investigate further. 

Quietly making your way toward the shower stalls, you glance around and look for anything that could give you an idea about whoever it is, showering and praying to whatever God there is that it's Nat and not some random stranger. 

When you reach the benches in front of the stalls, you let out a relieved breath you didn't even realise you were holding—you'd recognize those combat boots anywhere.

Is confronting her while she's in the shower the most intelligent idea? No. But honestly? You're more than a little frustrated and pretty sure that she'll continue to avoid you unless you do something now.

So, you do the mature thing, much like she did.

You storm to the front of the stall and bang on the door, "Natalie?!" You call out, voice slightly shaky at the idea that it might not be her after all. 

A long, tense moment of silence passes after you speak, save for the sound of water hitting the tiles below. You start to panic, worrying that you really did just knock on a stranger's shower stall, scaring the everliving shit out of—

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A voice, unmistakenly belonging to a certain Natalie Scatorccio, rings out over the sounds of the shower, "You couldn't fucking… wait until I wasn't fucking showering?!"

"You've been avoiding me!" You yell back, "What the fuck was I supposed to do? You haven't been showing up to class, you've been avoiding my calls… I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" She yells back, "Maybe wait for me to come to you when I'm ready to talk, ideally not when I'm in the fucking shower?!"

"Yeah, well…" You mutter, realising that… yeah… maybe this wasn't the best time, but you're already here! There's no backing down now! "That's not the point!" You eventually continue, "Why have you been avoiding me since Friday night?"

She doesn't respond for a long moment.

"Well?" You scoff, calling over the water, "Natalie? Are you gonna answer me—"

The stall door flings open, revealing a very naked and very wet Natalie Scatorccio.

Your jaw drops. Sure, you saw her naked during the night of the party, but this is much different. She looks very upset with your sudden appearance, and for a moment, when she draws her hand back, you worry she's about to clock you in the jaw. And, honestly? You'd probably deserve it.

What you aren't expecting, however, is her to grab the back of your head and mash your lips against hers, all tongue and teeth.

It's only a moment's hesitation before you return the kiss, and she's drawing you back into the shower stall. "We better be alone," Natalie murmurs, tugging your hoodie off and over your head as it begins to soak through. "I'm not about to have one of the girls walk in on this." 

"No, uh, yeah, we're alone." You stammer out, kicking off your shoes and pants, "I wouldn't have caused a scene if there were still people in here—"

"Good." Nat breathes out as she tugs you into the shower's spray, despite the fact you haven't even gotten the chance to remove your underwear yet. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this." And her lips are back against yours, free hand immediately moving to find purchase between your thighs, fingers rubbing you through the damp fabric. (Which, you'll note, is now damp for more than one reason.) 

"Holy fuck—" A shaky exhale parts from your lips, your head falling back to hit the shower wall, one hand attempting to find some sort of grip on the wall while the other grasps uselessly at her wrist, "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you in the time we weren't talking?" You ask breathlessly, hips pushing into her hand.

"I spent a lot of time thinking about this." She murmurs, fingers pushing the soaked fabric aside and pushing two fingers through your slick folds, teasing the length of your slit for a few moments before she quickly sinks two fingers into the wet heat at the apex of your thighs.

"F-fuck—" A full-body shiver rakes through your form as your back arches off the wall, a shocked gasp leaving your lips once she starts fucking her fingers into you with reckless abandon. "Jesus Christ—" "You seem to be saying his name a lot. Last I checked, it's my fingers inside of you and not his." She says with a smug grin, resting her free hand on the wall next to your head. "Unless you got really religious in the past few days."

"Asshole." You grunt out, nails digging into her wrist as you desperately roll your hips against her hand, "You are knuckle deep inside me, and I'm not about to just start saying your full name—"

"No." She cuts you off, "But you could just say Natalie."

"That's not—" She cuts you off when she stretches you further with a third finger, and you're almost positive her wrist has to be cramping with the angle it's at, but she shows zero signs of stopping or slowing down. "—the point—" You stammer out, eyes screwing shut as squelching sounds from her fingers fucking your pussy manage just to be loud enough to be heard over the rush of water beating against the porcelain.  

"No, you're right. The point is that you shouldn't be thinking of anyone else while I'm the one inside of you."

If there was something you expected Nat to say, that was not it, but you can't help the way you clench around her fingers at the comment.

"Oh, shit." A low laugh spills from her throat, "You like that, huh? When I'm all possessive? Didn't realise you'd be into that sorta stuff."

"Fuck off." You mutter, "I've never heard you get possessive before. It's kinda hot."

"Yeah? Guess I'll have to keep that in mind." Her palm grinds hard into your clit as her fingers brush against that spot inside of you that has your hips bucking and losing the rhythm you had found. "Oh. That was a fun spot." Nat murmurs to herself, "I liked that. Let's do it again."

So, she does. She presses her fingers right against that spot with every flick of her wrist, and you can't help but wonder how the fuck she became so damn good at this when at times, it felt like she barely had two brain cells to rub together that night of the party—

Shit, you didn't even notice the fact she was trailing her lips along the hollow of your throat, tongue collecting the water that streams down your body from your face. "Nat—" You gasp when you feel her teeth bite at your jaw, "Shit—"

"Mm, yeah." You can feel her grin against your throat, "See? Knew you had it in you to say my name. Just needed some gentle encouragement, is all."

You can't even form coherent thoughts at this point. You aren't sure what turns you on more: doing this in a public place where anyone could walk in and hear the deplorable things currently transpiring, the fact that Nat seems to be eager to have you like this, the way her lips trace along your neck reverently, or her completely making you forget the whole reason you walked into the changing rooms to begin with.

Nat spends some time alternating between the stretch of three fingers and the ruthless pace of two, occasionally completely retracting her fingers in favour of circling your clit with the pads of her index and middle before sinking them back in.

"You, fuck, I'm close." You stammer out the next time she sinks her fingers back into the tight heat, "Don't fucking stop—"

She shakes her head against your neck, "Not stopping." A shaky exhale, and you start to feel her hips rolling against your thigh, "Not stopping until I feel you fucking come around my fingers."

Your eyes roll back into your head at the words that fall from her lips, and you find yourself gripping her arm again for support. "Oh, holy fuck, Natalie—"

With a stuttering movement of your hips against the heel of her palm, you find yourself crashing into a climax that you were not expecting to get right in the fucking changing rooms.

And, despite how you clench around her fingers and your knees buckle slightly, Nat doesn't even stop. Not for half a second. The crude sounds of her fingers fucking your spasming pussy at breakneck speed don't slow, and your head thrashes back and forth against the wall, "Nat, fuck, wait—"

"No." She hisses into the side of your neck, biting at the skin, "I'm not done yet."

Thank causes a broken groan to slip from your lips as her fingers press against that one spot over and over again to the point the edges of your vision start to turn fuzzy amid the ecstasy. "F-fuck, I just came—"

"I know." She growls out, fingers seemingly plunging in deeper to your tight heat with every thrust of her wrist, "And I want you to come again."

"Oh." You exhale, eyes screwing shut again, "Oh…"

Nat grins at your breathless sounds, "Yeah, baby. Like that." Three fingers, "Fuck, love how tight you feel around my fingers. How fucking wet you are for me." "We're, ah, in a shower. Of course, I'm wet—"

She bites down on your neck particularly harshly at your words, "Shut up. You know that isn't what I fucking meant."

"N-no, but it's funny—"

You barely even register it when Nat drops to her knees before you, bringing one of your legs over her shoulder, "God, shut up."

And, well, you don't get a chance to speak again before she's burying her face against your heat, fingers continuing in their harsh movements as her tongue attaches itself to your clit, swirling around and sucking at the nub.

One of your hands immediately finds itself tangled in her blonde hair, the other trying to hold your body up against the stall wall behind you, which proves… to be a hard enough task on its own, given that the walls are slick with water and smooth.

"Oh, fuck—" You hiss out, tugging slightly on her hair, "Shit, give me a second—"

Nat doesn't. She doesn't stop or slow, either. Hell, she doesn't even humour you with a response, just choosing to focus on her task at hand: making you come again.

It's slightly embarrassing how quickly you're right back on the precipice of an orgasm. You'd probably be mortified if you could form thoughts other than "yes" and "please."

You swear you can feel the way Nat smirks against you as she wraps her lips around your clit, creating a suction that has a full-body shudder raking through you and—

…

Even Nat has to stop for half a second when she feels you come again, less than a minute after the first one. "Fuck." She breathes out, looking up at you with her jaw slightly slack, fingers still buried inside of you. "Did you just…?"

Realistically, you could lie. But you get the feeling this is a hypothetical question.

"I… I told you I needed a second…" Comes your stammered response, "That's… I'm not… I don't… it's just…"

A dark chuckle leaves Nat's mouth as she removes your leg from her shoulder, ensuring you can stand properly before she rises back to her feet, "Mmn, I'm not mad. If anything, it's kinda flattering."

You scowl slightly at her, "What-whatever." 

You decide it's her turn, now. 

As fast as you can move without slipping on the tile, you pin Natalie to the wall in your place, lips finding her neck, tracing up the path of a water droplet with your tongue, then further up still until your lips are back on hers.

One of Nat's hands comes to rest on your shoulder, the other tangling itself into your hair as your kiss grows more and more heated. Although it's a little tricky to do with the slick walls, you spread her thighs slightly and press your knee up between them, encouraging her to grind down onto your leg. It's your turn to smirk now, finding some sort of pleasure in the way she immediately presses her pussy against you, hips rocking with urgency.

"Yeah," You grunt against her lips, "like that. Keep doing that." The blonde whimpers back, grinding herself faster, "Please." She breathes out, "I need more."

"What?" You chuckle, "Sorry, I didn't get that. Mind saying that again?"

She slaps your shoulder, "Stop being such a fucking tease, asshole. What do you want me to say? That I want your fingers inside of me?"

You grin, "Yeah. That works, actually." One of your hands runs down the flat of her stomach, two fingers run across her folds, not quite delving into the warmth between them. "But the begging is a little hot."

"I'm not going to beg." She immediately answers, "If you aren't gonna fuck me, I'll find someone else to do it."

Your jaw tenses immediately at the comment, and you aren't quite sure if it's jealousy or something else, but the very idea of that pisses you off to no end. "No the fuck you aren't." You hiss out, sinking your index and middle finger into her cunt without another word, earning you a keening sound. "I'm the only person doing this to you tonight."

"God, yes." She almost moans out the words, "Harder."

A scoff, but you oblige her anyway, turning two fingers to three and fucking them into her faster, grinding your palm into her as the digits move, and Nat doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for someone with long fingers.

She presses her tongue back against yours, using the hand that's tangled in your hair to guide your mouth where she wants it—against hers.

The press of your lips against yours makes the movements of your hand slow momentarily, but you quickly recover your speed when Nat tugs at the hair on the nape of your neck, reminding you that there's an end goal to this.

"Mm, my bad." You murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of her lips, "Your mouth is very distracting."

Nat rolls her eyes, "Yeah? Then maybe you should be somewhere it won't distract you." A half-grin twitches itself onto her lips, and the hand on your shoulder presses down, "On your knees, ideally."

"Just say you want me to eat you out." You lower yourself onto one knee, "Saying what you want is hot." Nat grins down at you and runs her fingers through your hair as you get down on your other knee, "Don't need to say what I want. You're already doing it."

You roll your eyes at her as you press some gentle kisses to her inner thighs, humming when she parts them for you. "Maybe." A small nip to the soft skin, "But I do enjoy you telling me what to do."

"Oh, yeah? What, you into being dominated?" She laughs lowly, "Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind."

"You say that like you plan on doing this again." You take one of her legs and hoist it over your shoulder, pausing a beat, then taking the other leg and repeating the motion. "Do you plan on doing this again?" Nat gasps when you have her sit on your shoulders, fingers tightening in your hair, "Fuck, you keep pulling shit like this, and I just might keep doing it."

A grin graces your lips, "That so? Guess I'll have to keep you coming back." A chaste kiss to her clit, then you're delving your tongue into her cunt, greedily slurping at the wetness that's collected between her legs. 

Your fingers dig into the meat of her thighs, holding her against your face, encouraging her to squeeze your head like a goddamn watermelon. You could, quite honestly, die happy with your head where it is right now.

Nat is rolling her hips against your face, your nose brushing against her clit as your face remains buried in her pussy, obscene sounds echoing against the walls, and you aren't even sure when the shower clicked off, but you are aware that it makes the two of you much more audible.

You'd pull your head back to tell her or move one of your hands to swat at the button to turn the water back on, but you get the feeling she could care less how audible what's transpiring between the two of you is.

So, you try to put that into the back of your mind, letting the sounds of your mouth against her and Nat's broken gasps act as fuel for the way you fuck her with your tongue. 

It's a handful of minutes before her breathing becomes more stuttered, her grip on your hair starts to hurt slightly, and you don't think she would let you up for air if your face were literally turning blue, but that's okay.

In fact, it's more than okay, considering you feel her pussy pulsate around your tongue as a whimpering moan breaks from her throat, hips continuing to rock against your face for a few more seconds before ceasing. 

"Fuck." Her fingers run through your hair, as if serving an apology for the way she was tugging on it. "You're fucking good at that." You shoot a lazy grin up at her through between her thighs, which were effectively acting as earmuffs. "I aim to please. Happy that my goal was met."

Her head falls back against the wall as she laughs, "Yeah. Now, put me down."

"Mm, sure you can stand?" You tease, nipping at her thigh again.

"Positive, asshole." She rolls her eyes fondly, "Let me off."

A dramatic sigh parts from your lips, but you relent and help her get her feet back on the ground, "Fine, fine." You stand back at your full height, looking down at her slightly as you lean against the wall, "But I really wasn't done yet."

"Yeah, well, I was. I'm not in the mood to get caught by someone in here." She shoves your shoulder, causing you to take a step away from her. "We both got off."

You click your tongue, "Seriously? C'mon. Don't be like that…"

"We can get off more later."

"Oh?" You quirk an eyebrow, "That mean I'm coming back to your dorm?"

"Well. That was fun." Nat ignores the question, pushing off the wall and hitting the shower button again. "Now. I need to finish showering. You staying or leaving?"

You scoff, "Staying, I guess." You spare a glance down at your soaked clothes, "Gonna be soaked the whole walk home, anyway. Not in the mood for that walk."

She laughs deliciously, "Oh, trust me; if I have anything to say about it? You'll be soaked at home, too."

A beat. "And you said my dirty talk was terrible."

a/n: ok NOW crush act two part one next fr fr

[bots-and-cons]

Can we have a scenario (or headcanons if they're going to be easier to write for you! ^-^) for Megatron with a human gender neutral soulmate, who was his friend back on Cyberton and ended up dying in the war only for their spark to somehow reincarnate within a human frame?

A/N: I was thinking I was just gonna write HCs for this, but I decided to do a short scenario instead. I decided to do this as romantic (or at least the reader and Megatron were romantically involved in the past), even though you said “friend”, because I love the drama lol. I want to make a multipart thing out of this, so this is just the start (at least I hope I remember to write more parts…). I think this ended up kinda mediocre, but I don't careeeeeeeeeeee

You had been with the autobots for a while now, this was the first time you had actually come face to face with him. Optimus had thrown Megatron, and while you had managed to scamper out of the way, he was right there, just a few meters away from you. He raised his head and he was staring right at you. There was something so familiar about those optics, but you didn’t understand why, you’d never seen him in person before, you’d barely even seen pictures. You didn’t scream, and you didn’t move a muscle, for a moment, you just stared at each other, as if frozen in time.

Megatron just stared at you for a brief moment. He didn’t know why, but there was something so incredibly familiar about you. He’d never seen you before, he didn’t even know the autobots had a human pet. It wasn’t the way you looked, he didn’t recognize anything about you really, but the feeling he got, was something he’d forgotten long ago.

Before he could do anything, the magic was broken by someone yelling: “(Name)! Get out of here!”

It was like time started moving again, and you realized what a terrifying situation you were in. You got on your feet as quickly as you could and started moving away from him. Megatron got up swiftly as well and turned to face the prime that had just thrown him moments before. He didn’t know why he didn’t just grab you, you had still been within reach and would have made a great hostage. It didn’t matter now, he had his nemesis to face.

Megatron was the worst of the worst, no doubt about it, but you realized you weren’t scared when you were face to face with him. You actually felt an odd sensation of familiarity when you looked into his optics. How could that be? You’d never met him before, and you were quite sure you never wanted to meet him again. You’d heard about the atrocities he’d committed from the autobots, but you had a feeling they hadn’t told you the half of it. That was probably for the best, you didn’t need to know, you didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to give him another thought, but for some reason you just couldn’t seem to let it go. There was just something about him that bothered you.

Once the autobots had retreated and Megatron had returned to the Nemesis, he couldn’t get you out of his head. He felt restless and he didn’t like that. He wasn’t really sure what the feeling he felt when he saw you was, but he didn’t like it either. It reminded him of someone in his past, that he didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about, not anymore at least. He just didn’t understand why. How could a puny human remind him of someone he’d once held so dear? It just didn’t make any sense to him.

[love-byers]

"Not Kids Anymore" connection

who ordered more byler music coding??

alright, so the OST song that plays during the byler rain fight is titled "Not Kids Anymore", obviously quoting mike's line "But we're not kids anymore." the line that triggers the song, so the line that changes/emphasizes the tone, is "It's not my fault you don't like girls!". it cuts to will's reaction and the music begins. i know we all know the rain fight by heart, but i'm gonna add the dialogue anyway

Mike: Will, come on. You can't leave, it's raining. Hey, I said I was sorry, alright? It's a cool campaign it's really cool! We're just not in the mood right now.

Will: Yeah, Mike, that's the problem, you guys are never in the mood anymore! You're ruining our party!

Mike: That's not true!

Will: Really? Where's Dustin right now?

Mike: ...

Will: See? You don't know, and you don't even care, and obviously he doesn't either, and I don't blame him! You're destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!

Mike: El's not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls!

*Not Kids Anymore begins*

Will: ...

Mike: I'm not trying to be a jerk. Okay? But we're not kids anymore. I mean what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?

Will: Yeah. I guess I did. I really did.

*Will gets on his bike and leaves*

Mike: Will. Will! Will come on!

we will come back to this in a moment

the only other time "Not Kids Anymore" has played is in s4 ep1. It plays when lucas dustin and mike are arguing over the basketball championship and hellfire. again i'm gonna show the entire convo just to have full context since it's pretty much all going to be relevant.

Lucas: I don't get the big deal. Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.

Dustin: "Just talk to Eddie."

Mike: Why don't you just talk to your coach and get him to move the game?

Dustin: I think that's a great idea, Mike!

Mike: Thank you, Dustin!

Lucas: This is the championship game!

Dustin: This is the end of Eddie's campaign! A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need you!

Mike: Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year.

Lucas: That's not the point.

Dustin: Please, arrive at the point.

Lucas: If I get in good with these guys, I'll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.

Mike: Has it ever occurred to you that we don't want to be popular?

Lucas: So you want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?

Dustin: We are nerds and freaks!

Lucas: Yeah, but maybe we don't have to be!

*Not Kids Anymore begins*

Lucas: Look, I'm tired of being bullied. I'm tired of girls laughing at us. I'm tired of feeling like a loser. We came to high school wanting things to be different, right?

*Mike and Dustin nod*

Lucas: So now we have that chance. I skip tonight and that's all out the window. So I'm asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie, get him to move Hellfire. Come to my game. Please.

you're probably starting to see where i'm going with this lol

before i go into it i want to say that it is undeniable that these scenes are connected, clearly. there are over a hundred other songs in the ST OST albums and they chose this one. there is undoubtedly connections and subtext.

so clearly lucas is saying he is aware of the fact that he is a nerd/freak, but he doesn't want to be. he wants to get in with the popular crowd. hanging out with them and being on the basketball team despite always being on the bench is something he's doing on purpose, a choice he's making, because he wants to be perceived a certain way. he wants to be perceived as cool, as normal.

lucas is skipping out on dnd because he's trying to be normal.

so what's the connection here? is it just that lucas and mike both don't want to play dnd? cause that's not really the case, at least for lucas. he wants to play dnd, he just wants them to move it to a different night so he can go to the game. it's a cool campaign, it's really cool! we're just not in the mood right now.

lets compare some other lines from these two scenes

Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year. You're destroying everything, and for what?! So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!

mike and will are both saying the sacrifice being made is stupid because the action is empty and boring and meaningless.

this also reminds me of that ted quote "You're on the bench, son." obviously talking to/about mike.

you could also look at it as will saying (not literally saying, but a coded way) that he actually needs mike while el does not, clearly, since all they do is make out meanwhile will genuinely loves mike and wants to connect with him. will needs mike. Yeah, and the Tigers don't. You've been on the bench all year.

So you want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?

Yeah. I guess I did. I really did. We are nerds and freaks!

i feel like these are kind of self explanatory lol, i can't really think of anything to say about it

i guess the fact that they're both insinuating that this is what will happen to themselves if they don't act. lucas doesn't want to be stuck with the nerds and freaks, and mike doesn't want to be gay lmfao. dnd in mikes basement is canonically a metaphor for will's love for mike, so thats not delusional at all sorry

If I get in good with these guys, I'll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too. What did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends?

i've always found that mike line interesting. it's not the way someone who is in love talks about their bf/gf. mike didn't fall in love (at first sight), he got a girlfriend. he acquired a girlfriend. saying it like that kind of gives the implication that mike sees his relationship as an action that everyone must take at a certain point in their life, like it's just what you're supposed to do. that's what normal people do.

lucas knows what he is. he's a nerd, he's a freak, but wants to change. he wants to be perceived as cool and normal. and he is purposefully pulling away from his friends to spend time with other cool, normal people which will make him cool and normal too. and he wants his friends to want the same things he does.

Yeah, but maybe we don't have to be! It's not my fault you don't like girls!

these are the lines that trigger the music, so the turning point of the scene, the climax. how are they similar? well, it seems like both of them are acknowledging a choice. lucas is acknowledging the choice of getting in with the popular crowd, even if it means pretending to be someone you're not, a choice he has already made, and a choice he wants dustin and mike to make. soooo it seems like mike is acknowledging the choice of liking girls/dating girls, a choice he has already made, even if it means pretending to be someone you're not, a choice he wants will to make (or is at least acknowledging that will has not made that choice yet, and that it's not mike's fault).

they are both acknowledging the choice to conform.

"It's forced confirming. That's what killing the kids. That's the real monster."

i will also point out the differences in the cinematography of these scenes. the rain fight is an over the shoulder (we can see the back of wills head and his shoulder in the corner) and is closer up than the s4 scene. the s4 scene is warm and colorful while the rain fight is pale and desaturated. that's color grading, which is all done in post production. basically, the rain fight is way more intimate and serious because this is an argument between two people who are in love, meanwhile the s4 scene is an argument between friends.

its also generally interesting that mike is in the both of these scenes, but on opposite sides. in the rain fight he is the one conforming, and in the s4 scene is anti-conformity. so if mike doesn't want to be popular, doesn't care if he's associated with nerds and freaks, proudly deems himself a nerd and freak, what was his deal in s3? easy question, he's queer. next

this parallel, in my opinion, carries over into another scene which i talked about in this post. it all makes a lot of sense tied together!

have a great day byler nation

[kremzeeks]

OK so I have so many thoughts about this. I will put them under a read more and then people can just ignore them easily that way.

I really enjoy the Knuckles series for what it is... But it was really missing that "full circle" moment.

The first episode sets up a couple of emotional beats for Knuckles as a character. After Sonic's talk with him on the roof, and after this advice gets him grounded, Knuckles states, "...the hedgehog cannot possibly understand" (but I really think you can replace Sonic with the whole family in general) before calling out for spiritual guidance from his Tribespeople.

The crux of the issue that we (the audience) can see for him is that he is very much tied to his own traditions and customs, and everything here on earth is very different. Him even being on earth at all is not out of any sentimentality, but because he believes he has a duty of protection towards the Master Emerald. He considers himself a sentinel on duty, and when he does what is natural to him (and what would have been expected of him among his tribe) - this being, protecting his territory (and where we can presume he's keeping the Emerald until he trusts Wade enough to hand it off to him) - he is punished, and made to feel shame for his behaviour. Not only that, but Sonic encourages him to abandon these duties and just relax and have fun.

This doesn't make any sense to Knuckles because the unspoken implication here is that there was no relaxing and "having the fun" for his tribespeople. I'm speaking without much knowledge of the lore from the videogames, but as far as the live action movie canon goes, there's this sense that Knuckles has had it instilled in him to always be on duty, all of the time.

Even the flashback scene we get in the second film, where his father tells him this moment for heroism isn't his - he's holding a spear in his hand, and standing sentinel over their home. He was the last one left alive in the tribe, and so the only one who didn't go on that raid. So it's very likely he was being left a job, which was to watch over their home village until everyone else returned. He wasn't "warrior" enough at that time to go and fight, but he still had a duty to perform.

When nobody returned, he then assumed the duty the whole tribe once embodied - finding and protecting the Master Emerald.

Another thing the first episode sets up, is this idea that it's now Knuckles' duty to replenish their tribe by finding and training students. Wade being his first.

Although we do get Knuckles referring to earth as his home eventually, these two emotional beats aren't really followed through in a satisfying way. The second one isn't really even followed through at all.

Starting with the first - we sadly don't see Knuckles form any attachment to his home home - this being his home with Sonic, Tails, Maddie, and Tom (and Ozzie, of course!)

I've watched this series through a few times now, and here are some things I have noticed. Although Maddie refers to Knuckles as her "kid" to the construction crew, I feel like this is less about her actually considering Knuckles as one of her children, and more about her explaining him in a way that other people will understand. Because otherwise, she doesn't show a whole lot of maternal behaviour towards Knuckles. This is probably because unlike Sonic and Tails, he is used to being self-sufficient and taking care of himself. A domestic life is probably mind-numbing for him, especially if Maddie is trying to see to all of his immediate needs like a mother would.

And from context clues in this series, I get the sense Knuckles isn't really allowing Maddie to mother him either, which is why there's such a rift between them.

For example, when Knuckles greets them all at the breakfast table with his newly built throne - notice Maddie calls the "boys" down for breakfast, and is only holding two plates. One for Sonic, one for Tails. There isn't even a plate on the kitchen island behind her to suggest she was going to bring one for Knuckles (and just couldn't carry all three plates at once). We can assume from this that she isn't in the habit of preparing breakfast for him.

This is probably because, as Sonic introduces for us at the episode's start, Knuckles starts his day with training. Not by chilling at the breakfast table with the family.

Secondly, Knuckles creates distance between himself and Maddie by referring to her as "Pretzel Woman", which comes across as demeaning. Whilst we (the audience) can acknowledge this is just the way Knuckles refers to others in general (with a moniker - Hedgehog, Fox, etc), I think for Maddie, it's a clear sign that Knuckles has rejected his place in the family, and thus her place in relation to him.

Interestingly, it's only Wade (and his Chief, of course) who Knuckles calls by name in this series, which suggests to me anyway that he sees Wade as an equal, or at least as some kind of kin, probably because Chief Pachacamac has urged him to take Wade on as a student for training.

Everyone else, he creates distance with by not referring to them by their given names, and instead titles/names he's decided they should have.

When Maddie finally loses it and goes full Mom Mode on him, Knuckles talks back to her, not understanding the dynamic she's trying to establish - that she is the boss - the Matriarch, even! - in their house, and he has to fall in line. I think up until that point, Knuckles has considered her just as a thing living in the territory he has to protect, and he doesn't really give her any consideration, the way he doesn't give Ozzie the dog any consideration either. Or at least he's not considering them with the proper/due amount of respect they deserve.

I feel like what this series was missing like you say, OP, is a scene at the end where Knuckles returns home and he understands - from observing Wade with his family - how Maddie sees him in the Wachowski Tribe. Or at least acknowledges her as the Matriarch, the way he does Wade's mom. This would have been a perfect marrying between Knuckles' culture, and the culture he's going to have to assimilate into, if he's to have a peaceful life alongside Maddie and her family.

Bonus points if we could have had a conversation between them both about how Knuckles feels about this. I don't think he necessarily wants to be treated like a child, but he might be at least willing to defer to her a little more and see her as more of an equal, and not just some NPC roaming around who keeps getting in the way and yelling at him for reasons he's not understanding.

As for the second beat - whilst we get a lot of information about Wade's culture and traditions, we don't get any from Knuckles. Even though that is specifically what Chief Pachacamac instructs him to do - find a student who he can teach all about the ways of the Echidna.

He is sort of mildly instructing Wade about how to be a warrior, and talking a lot of warrior-isms, but we don't actually learn anything about the Echidna tribe's customs and traditions. Which is a shame because there were lots of places Knuckles could have reciprocated with his own stories when hearing from Wade, and later his mom, but it doesn't happen for some reason.

All we really learn from this series about Knuckles is the same thing we learned from the second movie: he used to be part of a tribe, but they were all killed when he was young, and now he's on his own.

I do think there are small things we can glean about Knuckles' past (and his customs/traditions) from the things he says and does at least... But without proper on-screen confirmation, these are all just technically headcanon... But here are some vague details we can discern:

At some point, Knuckles participated in (and likely witnessed others participating in) a ritual in which one Echidna has to face their fear in a trial by combat. And just in general, the trial by combat was used to iron out disputes in rank and suchlike. It's very telling that Maddie labels Knuckles' handiwork on the living room as a "Gladiator fighting pit", and Knuckles quickly corrects her with (and emphasises), "Warrior fighting pit". There is more honour in the notion of two willing warriors fighting one another versus one unwilling participant against a seasoned fighter for sport. This is how Knuckles' culture has framed this activity - it's an honourable battle where one must display strength and win against their opponent to determine an outcome. Whatever happens to the loser is deserved because they lost the battle of strength, and the winner is congratulated and/or promoted. What Maddie sees is something very brutal and barbaric. What Knuckles experienced and believes in, is a system for determining rank and encouraging an honourable, warrior-like spirit.

The Matriarch in the clan is to be respected and admired. This one's a bit of a stretch, but if you watch how Knuckles responds to Wanda being admonished for not doing her duty at the table (lighting the candles), and the way he reacts to Wade and Wanda fighting at the table in general juxtaposed with their mom's exasperation, it is clear he disapproves of and is shocked at their behaviour. Poor guy looks utterly flabbergasted the whole way through - they are at a feast table with their Matriarch, and nobody is doing what they're told or what they are expected to do! What is going on?! Meanwhile, he is very enthusiastic about complimenting Wade's mom, shows enjoyment for the food she brought to the table (even though it's not what he would prefer to eat), and admires her physique and strength.

Which ties into three: one's physique is very important and can show on the surface (to Knuckles and maybe others in the Echidna Tribe) a "true" warrior. Notice how Knuckles is quite happy to be mothered by Wade's mom ("Let me get you some more, sweetie", to which Knuckles nods and smiles and gratefully accepts), but less comfortable to be mothered by Maddie (he argues back at her, he's not part of the breakfast routine she has established, and he is just generally quite disrespectful towards her). This certifies he sees Maddie as a "weakling" because unlike Wade's mom, she doesn't appear physically strong to him. It's worth noting, however, that Chief Pachacamac himself doesn't put so much stock into physical appearance because when Knuckles despairs at Wade being his student (and not seeming like a warrior at all), Chief Pachacamac immediately returns that Knuckles wasn't much of a warrior either when they first met. Although to be fair to Knuckles, he probably first met his Chief for lessons as a literal child, whereas Wade is a grown man (so by Knuckles' standards, he should already embody all that a warrior is and does - this could be a signifier of maturity within the Echidna tribe).

My final point doesn't have much to it, but it's very simply about the absence of a mother figure for Knuckles. The main detail in his story is that he witnessed his father leave and never return, and found out that it was because everyone in that raid was murdered by their opponents. Knuckles also references being trained by Chief Pachacamac, and speaks very highly of him in general (quoting his words, for example). Although Knuckles can acknowledge and respect a Matriarch (the way he does Wade's mom), there's not much evidence that he knew a mother in his lifetime. I wonder if this could be another reason he rejects Maddie's attempts to bring him into the family. She treats him the way a mother would a child, but what Knuckles needs from her is for her to behave like a Matriarch - someone he can respect and look up to. He doesn't need or want someone running after him, tidying up his messes, cooking his meals, and tucking him into bed. Those days are waaaay behind him, if they ever even happened at all! I personally get the sense Knuckles has never been mothered (or parented) a day in his life. He was probably a warrior in the making from the moment he could walk, and never really allowed to be a child. Which is why the way Sonic wants to live (as a concept) is so alien to him.

Anyway, with all that said, I think I'm done overthinking this children's media now hjfgjfjgjfgfjg.

Y’know what would be nice?

If that the series ended off with Knuckles returning home to Sonic, Tails and Maddie, and (after the rapid fire of questions and scolding for running away which is most likely prone to happen lol) begins to tell them about how he realised he isn’t living with them just to fulfil a vow of protecting the M.E anymore, but rather because he finally found his home

He explains how he finally understands the definition of “home” and what makes one

And if it’s anywhere he is most at home (since losing his tribe), it’s in the small town of Green Hills, with the Wachowski family, because with them is where his place of belonging lies…they are his home, and always were from the moment they took him in

Yeah, I think that would be nice

[theus-what-are-you-doing]

Final Scene Analysis and Key Sender Theory

A theory below? It might be obvious, but I'm being a dumbass and connecting dots that might not be there. That and I'm trying to wrap my head around the plot of season one while making predictions for season two too.

Words: 768

Okay, I'm not sure if anyone has pointed this out already, but this has been playing on my mind like a catchy song, and I genuinely need to vent it.

Something is telling me that Chase is being used by Buddy, indicated through the interaction shared by him and Violet at the end of season one.

Nox "can't do this" anymore because he's slowly falling for Chase. He's coming to love and care for him, like during the finale arc e.g. shielding him from water, comforting him during his breakdown, kissing him to be his hero.

He doesn't want to hurt the ones he loves, especially knowing how much Chase is trying to help others around him, specifically his own mum. See below:

Now, I think Nox is intelligent enough to put things together. So, I think these lines spoken towards him during Chase's breakdown could have made things click for him: Why Chase was sooooo determined in the beginning of the series to go into the book's for example, despite how irritating and upsetting Nox tried to be.

Given Nox is more familiar with Chase's personality now, it would only make sense for him to use the wish for someone else he cares about, hence Nox's hesitation to continue stealing the naratonin. As Nox cares more for Chase, he may come to want what Chase wants too, like a couple would.

But what's to says he's stealing it?

Well, we know Nox is a key now, and by all means, I don't think he can gather Naratonin by himself as it's established other keys can't. Though he was priorly human, I think he lost the ability to gather Naratonin when he became a key.

Considering we've been shown no other key holders, I don't believe any of them are left too, that there are any humans to help collect this naratonin. I really think it's just the keys.

Yet we've been shown that keys can use naratonin and that Buddy plans to use it to get a wish. But instead of wishing like a birthday wish where you whisper your secrets to the naratonine, I think you need to consume or absorb it, much like Silver did earlier in the series.

Here, it's shown that Silver fixes herself using the Naratonin Chase collected, so who's to say that Buddy isn't either. He just needs more because the thing he is trying to fix is his human self, to regain it.

Now i think that staying close to Chase is just a way to transfer his production of Naratonin to him and Violet, as they're also keys, or that Chase's production of Naratonin also goes over to them. It would explain why Chase gets so little every time and why Buddy wants to be close to him so often.

Keysender Theory

And so here's where my theory comes in. Let's focus on that second panel again!

"After all you've done for this"

I can't help but get a feeling that Nox was the one who sent the other keys out, or at least orchestrated getting them out with someone else acting as a proxy. It would explain why he's done so much work for this, to become human.

If my theory is correct and Libris holds no current key holders, the only way for Buddy to get Naratonin would be to get the keys into the hands of other humans, follow them into the books, and retrieve naratonin from being near them, so he can heal himself much like Silver did but to a larger scale. This is what we see happening with Chase after all.

Yhe keys have been scattered too, perhaps to not only heighten the chances of getting more people into the books but to also prevent them from gathering all the keys to make that wish (Like Silver admitted to Chase, you need all her family to make the wish)

Future predictions

With this in mind and my rambling over, I'd like to throw my hat in the ring for things I'd love to see from this analysis and theory, if they ever became true.

I'd love to see Buddy be confronted for this, perhaps out of guilt he would tell Chase he's been stealing narratonin and thus Chase obviously gets upset, as he's trying to collect if for his mum. I feel like this can be a way for them to share their wants for each other and even help each other with getting their way.

Anyway, that's all my rambles done. I hope they made at least a semblance of sense!!

[dseval]

....Look who made a Sans OC. Ok. This is actually not my first ever Sans OC but this will be the only one you guys see. I made him for fun so don't take him seriously. His name is Snowflake.

He is a Dust Sans variant and I will yap about him under the cut (in case you guys are into that) And no. Ignore how I accidentally drew the ribbons different sizes, we don't talk about that.

It's just this silly idea that Dust had been through some genocide timelines, then suddenly CORE Frisk asks Dust to join the Omega Timeline. So Dust did, he changes names into Snowflake. He's bored so now he sells Snow Cones?? Uh, I haven't really thought this through, honestly. Probably will never think it through...

Here's some trivia though:

Who gave him the name Snowflake? Himself, probably. Snowflakes can be formed from particles of dust which kinda sparked the idea.

He's created 26th December 2024 so that's his birthday (for now).

He sells snow cones. He will also likely scam you, or put hot sauce on your snow cone. Either way, it's hard to predict what he would do next.

He also suspects everyone steals. A bit paranoid.

His LV is still high, think somewhere around 10-13. Which is why it's hard for him to open up and get attached. He's also apathetic and tends to distance himself. When triggered, it's also easy for him to hurt others. He is as sociable as Classic, though.

Only answers to the names 'Sans' and 'Snowflake'. His nicknames are either Snow or Flake. You can also probably invent a new nickname for him.

His nightmares and hallucinations aren't as frequent and intense as Dust's. He still has them occasionally. He also listens to white noise every time he needs to fall asleep.

As restless as Dust, but because now he lacks things to do he just takes a lot of walks. He can't sit still.

Snowflake is very expressive. His eyelights and sockets are expressive, and he uses hand gestures a lot.

Snowflake is also abiding to the 'Sans is from Deltarune' theory, it doesn't change anything but he has slightly different motives than canon Dust. Idk how to explain it right now though.

...yeah that's all for now. Here are several concept sketches I did for him:

Fun fact: Initially he's supposed to be a cashier. I think it'd be funnier if he sells Snow Cones instead...

Dust Sans originally by Ask-Dusttale

[marscantread7]

A hc I have for Xavier is that like, he's really not as sex crazed as the game makes him out to be. Like, he'll crack a lil sexual joke here and there, but he's not aching for it 24/7. Like, here's my thinking.

Xavier's just a sleepy lil guy man. He's tired 24/7, that's why he's always sleeping or just lounging around his house reading a book or trying to cook bc those things AREN'T taxing on his body. We also know he sucks at cooking and HE knows he sucks at cooking, so like it's kinda something that keeps him on his toes to stay awake if he really doesn't want to sleep atm.

U know what activity is VERY taxing on a person's body? Sex😛 it's very taxing. Hell, even masturbating leaves me winded asf, I genuinely cannot imagine what sex does to smb😭 anyways, yes. What I'm getting at is that, imo, me personally, I don't think Xavier and mc r going at it everyday bc he's just too tired for that. I like to believe that they maybe have sex like once or twice a month, and if either of them really need a release, but Xavier's too tired for sex, toys, a handjob, or oral does the job just right! Like they're both comfortable and secure in their relationship to not get offended if the other uses a toy to get off.

Another thought I have since they don't have sex frequently, I like to think every once in a while, Xavier will just go all out. Like typically when they have sex, it's just like relatively calm, and sweet and just really nice. But then there's moments, like in Misty Silhouette, where he just gets so overcome w/ jealousy that like he just goes to town. Hard and fast, handling mc rough (but still careful), making sure evb (Charlie whatever his name is) can hear her screaming and moaning his name. They'll know who's making her feel this good. It's during these little fits where he doesn't care how tired he is, or when the last time they fucked was, he gon get that effing cookie💀 and then he sleeps for like 16 hours straight to recover bc wow! How taxing.

Anyways yeah just cutie, sleepy Xavier who is js too tired for sex. My sleepy baby😓💔

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

I just want to clarify that u guys don't have to agree w/ this, and I'm not saying that ur wrong if u think Xavier and mc go at it like rabbits. Please don't take it that way😭🙏🏾

[waynes-multiverse]

Eeeeek, I'm bursting with excitement! I wanna know so badly what happens next. I've been hurrying to get the kid to bed to read this 😂😂

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

I love this description btw Really painted a picture in my head 😍👏

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

Ouch. That line probably haunted her afterward 😂🙈 (but I loved their banter! You can totally see they have a close and loving relationship 💕) And her dad's optimism and "fate" was so adorable ☺️

You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Goosebumps... 👀

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

Ah, our boy entered work mode 🤓

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

Oh God 🙈 No, I can't watch him leave alone. At least get Sam!!! Oh God, no, no, no, no... 🫣

I also realized in that moment why my readers are usually "from the same foxhole" because this is exactly what I can't do. Freaks me the fuck out and gives me so much anxiety. Like, I have to be there 😂 I don't know how you do it. Bravo, friend 😅👏

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say.

Nooo, but you shouldn't follow him either... With the broken ankle 👀

“If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

A week?!?!?! *gasps*

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

Ooooh, btw, super interesting what you said about the bear meat! I figured something like this. They did wear bear fur, right? And I know people back then never wasted anything, so makes sense they'd eat the meat, too 😄

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so.

I cackled 😂 Love her feistiness!

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom.

Oh God! I'd die worrying... 🙈🤣

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor.

Aww 😭😭 Poor thing... 😢 (Loved how she explained not taking his room. While invasive, I think if Dean came back to this in his room, he would've melted 🫠🫶)

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open.

THANK FUCKING GOD!!!!!

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

I knew it was a long shot, especially when her father wasn't with Dean, but still breaks my heart for her 💔😢

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please… He finally drags you to him in a kiss.

The anxiety is long forgotten. All is forgiven... *sighs dreamily* 😍😍

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty. He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process.

Oh no, you come back here, young man!!!

It wouldn't be Dean, though, without the "you can't date me, I'm dangerous and not good enough" freak out 😂

“I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

Legit crying right now 😭😭😭 This is exactly why we always want what's best for him in fanfics. He deserves it so much 🥺

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him.

Love that little detail. Makes such a huge difference ❤️

Oooooh, I so can't wait to read the finale now! This is absolutely amazing, Alex! It's got the right amount of angst and heartbreak, only to haul me back into this sweet cabin romanticism 😍🤍🤍🤍

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 

Wendigo. 

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back. 

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 

But you’ll have to try. 

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer. 

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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[chaifootsteps]

i should've mentioned it when we were talking about tuca and bertie and them doing things right, but the arc bertie goes through with her SA and reclaiming it thru taboo fantasies is very similar to what ive been through, right down to a therapist opening me up to this new side of sexuality, and while it all happened to me years prior to the arc happening in the show, it broke me out of my anti shipper mentality that gave me this sense of justice and rigid rightness in what i was doing.

just thought now would be a good time to bring it up too because of the allegations against you and how what happened to max is basically the same thing that's happened to me. it's such an uncomfortable feeling to know someone who brought you into this world sees you like that, and having a fictional character similar to that person to self insert with in writing has helped far more then feeling disgusted with myself ever did or has, because i can stop anytime i want, or just get to a point where i move on completely from being able to gain anything from this personally. (which im leaning towards for now,) it's like bertie's therapist said, "because this time, you're in control."

i just wish antis could at least be more open to the idea that maybe, just maybe, shaming victims for coping this way isn't helpful, and that the lack of nuance implies shaming these uncontrollable fantasies (because you can't control your thoughts and like bertie's therapist said, "brains are weird!", although ive also heard the fear and arousal part of your brain is closely related which explains so many kinks to me tbh,) is the only form of healing and getting better, which it never will be. this kind of thing, of re-exploring your trauma thru fiction like this, definitely doesn't help certain people and that needs to be respected, but for anyone it does, they shouldn't just be written off as "normalizing their abuse", because im aware enough to keep this to myself, and to other people like me.

come talk to me about me "romanticizing" horrible things in fiction when you remember vivs shows have millions of views, and THATS why her writing like a fanfic author is bad - not because she inherently is one at heart. a large audience of adults should engage with these heavy topics, (and deserve to have them be written well, even if the stans swear they don't because nuh uh it's Da Best cuz mama viv made it,) not literal children. regardless of this unfortunate demographic that's naturally been formed and then unnaturally encouraged by the creator to line her pockets with their parents money, i think people have a moral obligation to tell a well written story about dark taboo subjects when they have such a large scale of production and connections like this, with some gray area in between, because theres some pieces of media that aren't as big as vivs creations or as small as fanfic writers (compared to other indie creations like video games or shows,) either, like mouthwash, or that one horror game with a sibling incest ending. that's what i mean when i said you aren't gonna make anyone want to fuck a lizard, but that vivs story's spread sentiment that would give 1970s victim blaming, "well, what was she wearing?" arguments a run for their money in how gross they are. i don't think max is gonna make anyone want to fuck their own dad either.

i hope this all makes sense! i think this is the most vulnerable ive ever been in your ask box. thank you for being someone who makes me feel strong enough to talk about this.

No, no, it makes perfect sense! Thanks for sharing your story, Anon...that was an incredibly vulnerable thing to talk about, and it couldn't have been easy.

I don't know if it's due to social media or what, but people have gotten really, really terrible at the concept of "I do my thing that works for me over here, you do your thing that works for you over there, and even though we don't understand each other, we mind our business about it." Like you said, it becomes a different conversation the more widespread and professional your piece of media is -- the same way that feeding 1,000 people a day is different than cooking for yourself -- but when we're talking about you and me and Max and all the randos on AO3? An appropriately tagged piece of work that makes a sharp distinction between fiction and reality is harmless.

What isn't harmless is telling someone that their intensely personal coping method is wrong and shameful and that they're a dangerous, evil person because it makes you uncomfortable, and that they're either a bad survivor or lying about being one.

Here's the scene from Tuca & Bertie, because it's so well done and always relevant.

[kiszjuli]

BREATHING .ᐟ

✸ donghyuck x reader | genre. angst w happy ending | w.c. 1.1k | ╳

"hey...can...can we talk?" donghuck, your ex as of only a month ago stood outside your front door. his breathing heavy; as if he had ran to your house. the moonlight shinning dimly behind him, you stared with parted lips. your heart pounding as you silently step aside letting him in.

when i just want to settle down heavily you approach me like the moonlight and talk to me

you and donghyuck had a hard break up, neither one of you wanting it in the first place. it was fueled by a string of misunderstandings and frustrations with life. he had gotten home late, exhausted from his whole day of working, so he was already not in a great mood. not that you were either, your boss having been on your ass all day. needless to say, you two got into an argument that you had been trying to avoid.

i'm so up and down that i can't stop i am full of unanswered questions

during the heat of the argument, you both said things you didn't mean. you wish you had know what this stupid argument was going to do to your relationship.

letting out a frustrated sigh you stand from the couch. "you don't get it hyuck! you've been so distant lately, and i feel like i'm the only one trying to make this work. i get it, you're busy, but i am too! and when you are here, it's like you aren't even really here!"

donghyuck stands and raises his voice slightly. "baby, i'm trying! you think this is easy for me? i'm working nonstop, and it's not like i don't care about you anymore...but i can't just drop everything to reassure you of that! i'm tired of you making it seem like i don't wanna be with you!"

you feel yourself getting emotional.

"that's not what i'm saying...i just..i feel like you don't have time for us anymore," your voice cracking as you speak.

donghyuck is hurt by your words, but he masks it with his frustrated voice. "what do you want me to do, y/n? you don't think i feel the same way? every day i can't be here? it hurts me too you know..."

there's tense silence before he speaks up again. "i can't keep trying if you keep making it seem like i'm the only one messing up here..."

your head tilts, feeling your emotions take over your words completely.

"i can't do this anymore donghyuck..i don't wanna keep trying if you've already given up!"

this makes him angry. he felt like you weren't even listening to a thing he said.

"you know what, maybe we're better off apart!" he yells across the couch in your living room.

your heart sinks. "..maybe we are!"

"fine!" he storms passed you to the bedroom to grab a bag and some of his clothes.

you follow him, obviously not wanting him to leave. "wait..." you say as you stand in the doorway.

"this isn't how i want things to end, i think we both just need to cool off," he says and walks passed you to leave, afraid if he actually stopped he would stay.

as he walked out of your house, your words died in your throat, being choked up by tears. you didn't see him again after that, nor did you two speak to each other. that whole month felt like hell. everything seemed to remind you of him, haunting you of your immature words that night.

i've been searching for another meaning will we be able to see each other?

which all leads to the reason why you let him in without another word, shutting the door behind him. he steps in, his familiar and comforting smell enveloping you.

you look up at his once so bright and lively face, seeing his beautiful eyes red with small bags forming under them. your heart clenched.

he takes a deep breath trying to steady his voice before speaking. "i don't...know what to say really. i've been thinking about everything, every day. and.. i hate myself for how thing ended. i should've fought harder- i should've said more." he looks up at you with a pained look.

your face softens a little, trying to hold it together. "donghyuck... it’s not just about the words. you weren’t... there. it felt like i was invisible, like i didn’t even really matter."

his eyes fill with immense regret and pain knowing that he caused this hurt for you. "i know. i know i messed up. i got so caught up in everything—my work, my distractions—that i forgot about us. and the worst part is… i didn’t realize it until you were gone... until you weren’t there anymore,"

donghyuck steps closer to you, reaching for your hands slowly. your warm hands in contrast to his cool ones. you squeeze them a little.

"y/n, i- i feel like i don’t have any air without you. i don’t know how to exist without you in my life, without your voice, without your smile. everything feels so... empty without you. i need you.."

your eyes well up with large tears that spill over without being able to hold them back.

you're my last chance to go back i don't have any air without you

"you don't know how hard it was to watch you leave like that..after what i had just said to you about never being here-" you break down.

his heart seems to break all over again and he pulls you into his arms. you immediately wrapped your arms around his middle, tucking your face into his chest.

"i'm sorry baby, never again will i make you feel that way. never, m'so sorry for hurting you..so sorry.." he holds back his own tears, as he tightens his grip around your frame.

"missed you so much," you say between huffs of air from crying.

breathing, inhaling all the air think about you i reach out and hold you, who shined on me in the darkness

he needed you to understand that he would never make you feel that way again. he pulls away just enough to grab your cheeks in his hands, wiping away tears that stained your face. looking deeply into your eyes he spoke firmly. "i swear to you, i will never let you feel that way again. i'll make sure you never feel invisible or unloved again. i'm gonna fight for us, always." he never falters in his words.

"i love you, donghyuck," you mutter looking up at him.

"i love you baby, always."

when i open my eyes i am at the end of a long night it's warm when i feel our hands holding each other's and my heart starts beating

—

🎧 — breathing by nct dream

[trannyradfem]

If you think the only criticism towards radical feminism that exists is regurgitated drivel from TikTok, you desperately need to go touch grass and stop arguing against strawmen that don't exist. And stop going on TikTok, maybe?

Like, have you ever considered that other women are capable of creating their own thoughts and criticisms, even though they differ from yours? Why is it always ok to treat us like we're brainless drones the second we're sympathetic to sex dysphoria? Why is it ok to act like we're prioritizing males when we want a genuinely neglected medical condition that disproportionately affects us negatively to be taken more seriously and understood-- not from the mainstream male dominated perspective, but ours? And why is it ok to delude yourself into thinking it's misogynistic to have compassion for the women that radical feminism typically shits on and leaves behind over a stupid binary turf war (trans vs radfem) that should've ended 10 years ago?

Wake the fuck up, this is a medical condition and we deserve better than "just go get therapy (that doesn't even exist AND also work) or else you're a traitor hurr durr". Is medical misinformation cool only when radfems do it, now? I'm tired of your aclinical defenses when most of you arguing this hard aren't even fucking licensed professionals. But guess what? I am, and I've seen more than enough medically inaccurate bullshit coming from radfems to ever even need to have any exposure to TikTok to speak out about it.

That kind of bullshit^^^ isn't remotely radical, so no shit we're going to criticize it. We are the women left behind. Hatred towards us for that reason is just bathing in the privelege of not having this hellish condition. The fact that some of you cant even have a single conversation with us without becoming ridiculously condescending and demeaning speaks volumes, and shows us what you really think of us. You say we're condescending for wanting to establish a branch of radical feminism that doesn't leave any woman behind-- dysphoric or not-- and then condescend to us as if that's actually doing anything meaningful beyond reaffirming your own beliefs so you don't have to consider the alternatives.

Like the girl who called my detrans female friend a TIM and equated me to straight women wanting to include their male partners in feminism, all for the sin of saying..... "homophobia against males isn't ok, either". Ooh, the horror. I'm really watering down the radical feminism movement with that one. Nevermind a supposed radfem equating a lesbian to straight women, that's not important because we need to fight the disgusting troons!!!!

That shit was so fucking homophobic and dehumanizing, but who cares when you aim that behavior at a troon? Except one of us literally isn't even trans at all, so... wtf? Is this some new radical behavior, accusing women of secretly being males to discredit them? This witch hunting bullshit is ok now?

Stop acting like you give a shit about all women when you really don't. And stop giving the "well I'm sorry other RFs did that to you but that wasn't really radical feminism" line as if TRAs don't do that same exact shit! You only care about women that fit your image, all else are apparently acceptable targets. That's the same exact shit TRAs do.

If you want to see us be condescending so badly, then fine-- stop being so disgustingly misogynistic and homophobic under the guise of radical feminism, and then we can talk. Stop giving us reasons to criticize and maybe we won't want to separate ourselves from the movement at large.

[zeekszooks]

The only thing I want my ai robot to do that might be considered "pattern watching" and "generative" would be a Baymax.

Basically using a data log with trial and error in order to just be kind of a care robot. Though technology now is WAY too under advanced and at this point should send people to doctors rather than y'know play doctor?

Also this 'Baymax' would also HAVE to be made by doctors like reason why the Baymax we know took trial and error. (Honestly in the movie 84 tries is a mindblowingly low for success good on him tho.) Though that's the difference. Real life Baymax is not a replacement to the real deal human... as well as the tool that doctors use.

Humans are still needed and it is a tool to assist. It shouldn't replace the entire process. I say the only time the genertive is ok is IF you don't literally copy and paste then say you did all the work. You either use it as a reference or guide to improve your craft.

Also I don't respect AI that is programmed by artwork that was unvoluntary. It's like hearing the quiet kid say a joke then saying it louder and not saying 'oh I was just saying it louder _ is a hoot right guys?' Like those artist didn't want you to take and use their art without credit.

Though even WITH credit it's pretty ... well scummy... like... honestly I'd compare it to more like the Honey extention. You didn't ask you didn't tell and boy howdy even if you did tell you really shouldn't have. ... no really...

The first one I mentioned COULD be like a walking 911 machine for the human if they... like are close to hard attack or stoke ect to get humans... the whole point is the end result is human doing the thing. If AI did the whole task it gets rid of the humanity... and charm... and art... is very much a 'Why did you put this here what is the meaning nice brush what settings?' (VERY MUCH SO WITH ABSTRACT TOO.)

Artist help artist grow. AI helps me get very uninterested in the your art because there was no well... choice, with symbolism or anything. No, 'Why did they put this here?' Not even a, 'Is that a style choice? It seems consistant enough though I might ask if it's a headcannon or possibly an au!'

It's just:

Me: "Oh cool what brush did you use I wanna try it out to try myself!"

Random Person: "It's AI good prompt right?"

Me: "Uh neat. Gonna use it as a reference?"

Random Person: "Nope this is it. I could NEVER draw. You people are just born with a talent."

Me: "Huh."

My inner monolouge: They are not going to improve their craft? Like at all? Practice is all it takes... this is boring now I can't even think on why they chose a heart instead of a star because it was probably an AI error.

Me: "Cool thx bye."

Also... btw I wasn't born with the art skills I have... it takes a lot to improve. Also I still think I can improve. (Artist curse trying not to say I suck)

I don't know if Op agrees but just know I'm agreeing people are using it poorly but also not for a better use. I do think Op prefers a human making the art in the end at least.

i wonder if these ai people are thinking that im gonna be like "aahh!! you're right!! ive been such a fool !! certainly i can tell a robot to make something for me and it'll be just as good as something i can make with my own hands!! thank you, group of buffoons!" im not man. im really not

[utilitycaster]

Hi!

Outside of the obvious issues within the Campaign, One point i haven't seen talked about was how 4sD wasn't really a good way to find out why characters did certain thing or thought a certain way, the what the fuck is up with that section was the closest because the players and Dani would talk and ask eachother, though i believe that they also do that outside of the game, or talked about it on cooldown, but the questions selected for the tower of the deep dive often leaned into a fanfic-y narratives (mostly Tower, but sure i guess we need to know what their favourite ice cream flavors would be, for fun i guess)

I think cooldown is the closest to what i would have rather liked from 4sD but that's behind a paywall.

Do you think the format affected the way the audience engaged with the characters? or would it be like with Molly in C2 where Tal said that he was absolutely not a good guy but the critters insisted he was just misunderstood and actually a saint (hyperbole)

Hi anon,

4SD definitely impacted how people engaged with the characters, but if it hadn't existed the sort of person who cherrypicks out of context lines from 4SD would have just made things up whole cloth to support whatever they wanted a la Campaign 2. I also don't think 4SD is like, a problem. I agree there were flaws in the format, but also...I didn't ever watch Talks for Vox Machina (I did for Campaign 2 but as I binge-watched C1 I didn't have time and I didn't bother) and I understood the story just fine. I think that if you need a talkback shows to understand a character's motivations, either that is a flaw of the text for not showing them, or you are a stupid person. A great example is Bowlgate: Talks addressed explicitly why this conflict happened, but if you had, perhaps, watched the show, you would already know that Caleb had issues with abuses of power and massive problems with trust that often manifested as control issues, and Beau had control issues from the opposite direction that were no less explained by her past, and they understandably clashed, and while I personally agreed with Beau's assessment here neither of them expressed themselves very well, and it was a great moment of conflict in a game where conflict is interesting, and I also at no point was like "oh my god Liam and Marisha hate each other" because I understand the concept of acting. I actually, as someone avoiding the fandom at the time but watching Talks each week, was stunned to hear this had even been a controversy when I tuned in.

I think there are two much bigger factors in how the fandom engages:

social media and especially algorithmic short-form social media creating echo chambers. Like, obviously I am biased but I think the reason why so many of the most rancid and incorrect opinions from this campaign are from Twitter and so many of the most rancid and incorrect people are as well is that on Twitter, saying buzzwords tends to get eyes on your post, and it's all very short so you don't have to explain yourself, and it's based on instant gratification and if you say something stupid in the past it's easier for people to move on because it's hard to find, whereas like, on Tumblr, people have longer memories and if someone doesn't explain themselves they can't point to a character limit. I think without like, Twitter, bowlgate would have been much smaller a phenomenon. I think a major flaw of 4SD is that they've addressed things brought up on Twitter that aren't even a controversy but are actually just incredibly fucking stupid (Relvin not saying the exact words "I love you" is the one I'm remembering off the top of my head but this has been a problem for a WHILE).

The biggest one: I have mentioned blorbo-centric morality and you alluded to how people thought Molly was a saint and I just think for whatever reason Campaign 3 attracted a MASSIVE number of people like that. 4SD doesn't even enter here; if it exists they'll use it but if not they'll again make shit up or cherry pick or misinterpret. The core of all C3 discourse, at this point, is that some people will defend literally anything Bells Hells do no matter what. This is why you are seeing people who insisted the gods were, as someone said, tall kings who needed to be dethroned (killed) and were colonizers and murderers suddenly pivot praising a plan that lets them live and oh how compassionate Bells Hells are. You got people who defended indecision on this topic earlier; who said there were no good options but were too squeamish to actually explore that if their are no good options their darling little angels will get their hands dirty no matter what. The No Agency crowd. It's utterly spineless and amoral; they will abandon whatever argument they had to pivot to the aimless whims of Bells Hells. So 4SD gives them more material in their endless pivoting but they'd do this anyway.

So the format was like, fun as a hangout show but not great as a talkback at times, but it really wasn't a major factor because idiots are gonna be stupid no matter what. With that said while there were things about 4SD I liked I kind of wish they could go back to a more Talks-esque format, obviously with like, a better host. I also think that it might be better to permit fan-submitted questions in real time and air the episodes a few months later, particularly since as mentioned the crew often asked questions from a while ago. I also think doing this as a big thing monthly might be easier on the schedule but meant that we heard a LOT from cast members who were frequently available even if if their characters weren't doing much that was interesting. I would ideally like to go to like, every other week, shorter and more casual, with fan-submissions through a web form collected during the week following an episode so that like. we wouldn't get Talkback Show For 119 for maybe a month but it would actually be about that.