#get it. on the fence about making this. on the fence

[a-treatise-on-velociraptors]

i was on the fence about making this bc the bit was so goddamn stupid but here we are

[strnilolover]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚ Daddy’s Home ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚

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♫ Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home) • Usher

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♡ Dad/Dilf!Chris x Mom!Reader

♡ Warnings : smut, unprotected pnv (be careful y’all), hair pulling, pet names (daddy, baby, ma, babe, whore), breeding, degrading, praising, slight spanking, dirty talk?, almost getting caught, aftercare, fluff, I think that’s all?

♡ Wc : 2449

♡ A/N : we all love Dad/Dilf!Matt but like what about Dad/Dilf!Chris? Both men can give me their babies and I would be happy for the rest of my life. Sorry if this is absolute shittt <3

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Chris was coming home today. Having spent the last few weeks in Boston with his brothers to visit family, leaving you with your five year old daughter Amelia.

You were excited to say the least, and so was the hyper ball of energy who ran around outback with her toys. Having to call Chris every night or every other night to talk was just pure torture, for both you and your daughter. You could tell she missed her daddy dearly, having not really spent so much time away from him.

You smiled as you watched her from the chair you sat on, on the patio. Soaking in the sun as she played on the playground Chris had built for her. “Be careful sweetie!” You called out, watching her small body roughly run across the playground, growing concerned about her hurting herself.

“Okie mommy!” She cheerfully said back, slowing her pace a little as he slid down the slide, repeating the actions. You just shook your head, your heart swelling as you watched how carefree she was.

Just then, you heard a car pull into the drive way, your head snapping toward the fence as you see a figure get out of the car. You smiled widely, knowing exactly who it was. “Amelia, baby. Come here!” You said excitedly, your daughter running to you quickly.

Grabbing her hand you lead her inside, closing the back door behind you as you stood there, now facing the garage door. Your nerves were set on fire, the butterflies growing increasingly in your stomach. Even after all this time with Chris, he never failed to make you nervous.

The door leading into the house opened quickly, Chris walking in with his bags, a huge smile plastered on his face as he spotted his two favorite girls. “Daddy!” Amelia squealed, letting go of your hand to run towards Chris. His arms opening invitingly as he picked her up, spinning her around.

“There’s my favorite girl! How’s my lil bug doin’?” He mumbled as he pressed a kiss to her temple, hugging her tightly. You stood there, watching the way he held her against him, and you smiled as you crossed your arms.

His eyes flicked up, meeting yours as he continued to hold Amelia. You smiled giddily, blush rising to your cheeks as you walked over to them. He smiled in return, putting your daughter down slowly as he bent back up, wrapping his arms around you.

“And here’s my other favorite girl.” he whispered, head lowering to press a kiss to your lips which you happily reciprocated. You melted, arms coming to wrap around his neck as he pulled you closer to him. One you pulled away, you sighed contently, resting your forehead against his. “How’re you doin’ ma?” He asked, his breath tickling your face.

You hummed, “I’m doing better now that you’re home. Missed you so much baby.” You whispered, arms tightening around him more. He returned the act, holding you tighter. “I missed you too.”

“Bleh, that’s gross!” You heard your daughter say from beside you guys, a laugh bubbling out of yours and Chris’ throats. You pulled away, Chris turning his attention to your daughter.

“Mommy and daddy just love each other very much, lil bug.” He said to her. “And I love you even more!” He says as he ran towards her. She squealed, turning and running in the opposite direction as he chased her.

You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you watched Chris chase her. Picking up his bags he left, you carried them to your bedroom, setting them near the closet for him to deal with later.

-

Dinner was all made, Amelia’s bath was all done and now Chris was tucking her into bed for the night. You could hear the soft giggles of her voice echo down the hall as Chris read her a story and was being his goofy self.

You laid there, night shorts and tank top on your body as the warm covers engulfed you. You could hear Chris close your daughter’s door softly, his feet padding down the hallway coming closer to your room.

The door creaked open softly, his large frame walking through the door way in nothing but his black sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. You’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t turn you on, because it did. You were so touch starved for your husband, those few weeks making it feel like years since you last saw him.

He closed the door behind him, locking it swiftly before he made his way to the bed. Climbing in, he scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I missed you so much ma.” He whispered, his breath hot against your ear as you felt his nose trace the side of your face. You’d shuttered, a smile spreading across your lips. “I missed you so much too — missed having you here with me.” You say, humming softly as his mouth found your neck, peppering it with small kisses.

“Yeah?” He hummed, teeth starting to nip at your skin softly. “Missed having you pressed against me — it was torture not being able to touch you for so long.” He groaned out, his hips pushing forward against your ass. You gasped, your own hips voluntarily pushing back into his.

“Show me how much you missed me.” You whispered. After those words left your mouth, he turned you over, his body hovering over yours as he dipped down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You moaned against his mouth, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as your thighs squeezed together, searching for more friction as you felt your panties grow damp. He nipped your bottom lip, causing a gasp to escape as he slid his tongue in, exploring your mouth as you easily submitted to his movements.

As he continued his assault on your mouth, his hands roamed down, gripping the edge of your tank top and tugging it up your body. Disconnecting your lips briefly so he could pull the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room as his lips came back down, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone this time.

Chris kissed between your breasts, making his way to your right one and taking the hardened nub between his lips. He sucked harshly as his hand came to twist your left bud between his fingertips. You moaned, back arching into his touch as pleasure pricked your skin.

He pulled away slightly, hooded eyes looking up into yours. “You need to be quiet ma, can’t have everyone knowing what we’re doin’ hm?” He mumbled as he directed his mouth to your left bud now, lips wrapping around it as his hand tweaked your right one. You nodded desperately in understanding, panting harshly at his ministrations.

He pulled away, lips now kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your shorts as he looked back up at you. Smirking he grabbed them, starting to tug them down. “Lift your hips baby.” He said, and you obliged. Lifting your hips for him to slide your shorts and panties off in one swift motion.

Once your clothing were discarded he leaned down, pressing a few soft kisses to your inner thighs before pulling away, making you whine impatiently. “Shh ma — so impatient.” He spoke out, his frame crawling off the bed momentarily as he shuffled his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Once his clothes were fully discarded, he climbed back on top of you, smirking as he grabbed your shoulder and flipped you over.

He grabbed your hips, pulling them high in the air as a hand pushed on your lower back, causing you to arch impossibly. He groaned at the sight in front of him, “god you’re so beautiful baby.” He said breathlessly, a hand coming down to swipe through your wet folds, eliciting a moan from you, your hips pushing into his hand.

“Ah — such a desperate little whore. Did you miss my cock baby, hm?” He asked, his hand pulling away, grip tightening on your waist. “S-so much, missed your cock so much.” You whined out. He just chuckled, his hand gripping his cock and stroking a few times before he lined up to your entrance.

Your hips swayed slightly, feeling his tip push against your entrance. His hips snapped forward without warning, a loud moan reverberating through your chest, eyes rolling back. Chris’ hand grabbed your hair, tugging it out of the pillow you had subconsciously pushed your face in. He tugged your head up, his other hand coming forward to shove two of his fingers into your mouth.

“I said to be quiet yeah? Such a fucking whore.” He gritted through his teeth as his hips continued to snap relentlessly into your own. “M’sorry daddy!” You whined out, the words muffled around his fingers. Your hands gripping the sheets below you.

“Mhm I bet you are. I bet you’re loving this hm?” He said, angling his hips to push deeper into you. “Missed my cock so much that you just have to let everyone know.” He groaned as he felt you clench around him.

You just whined, his hand letting go of your hair and fingers leaving your mouth. Causing your body to drop against the mattress, face burying back into the pillow. His hands found purchase on your hips again, slamming into you roughly. You suddenly felt a sting on your ass, Chris’ hand coming down to land a hard smack against it. You whimpered, walls clenching around him again.

“Ah — fuck! B-baby.” You moaned, your hips now pushing back to meet his thrusts. “Doin’ so good ma, takin’ me so well.” He whispered, landing another smack onto your reddening ass, causing you to whine once more.

Incoherent babbles left your lips as Chris’ hips picked up the pace, angling just right to hit that spot deep inside you that had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Your walls clenched around him once more, his body leaning forward to plaster his chest against your back.

“You gettin’ close baby? Gonna cum and make a mess on my dick. Go head’ make a mess f’me.” He moaned, teeth nipping your shoulder as you nodded, body shaking.

You felt your insides grow tight, the knot in your stomach pulled until it finally snapped. Your body convulsed, coming around Chris’ dick as his hand came around to rub your swollen clit. He growled at the feeling, helping you through your high as high pitched moans left your lips, sounding like music to his ears.

He lifted his chest back up, gripping your hips tightly once more as he began to chase his own high. “m’gonna cum in this pussy, give you another baby yeah?” He growled as he plowed into you, and you nodded, your body tilting on the edge of overstimulation.

With a final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, groaning as he released thick ropes of his cum, painting your walls white. You moaned at the feeling, pushing your hips into him as you felt so full.

You guys stayed like that for a moment, regaining your composure until you felt him slowly begin to slip out of you. You hissed, already feeling empty now that he wasn’t inside you. Your body collapsed against the bed, the feeling of his cum and your juices dripping down your thighs.

Chris laid next to you, panting softly as he turned you toward him, pulling you into his sweaty chest. “You okay love? You with me?” He asked softly, pressing light kisses to your head. You hummed, burying your face into his chest.

“Baby?” He asked once more, and this time you lifted your head. Your hooded eyes looking into his own as you nodded. “M’okay, I’m with you. That was — amazing.” You said breathlessly, your own breath coming out in soft pants. He smiled down at you, pecking your lips. “Wasn’t too rough?” He asked and you just shook your head.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Your body immediately shooting up, eyes wide darting to Chris’. You scrambled for the blanket, covering your body as Chris slipped out of bed, grabbing his clothes and slipping them back on as he made his way to the door.

You watched as he opened it, your room too dark for anyone to notice you may have been awake. “Daddy?” Your daughter whispered out, a hint of sadness layered in her voice.

“Hey bug, what’s wrong sweetie?” Chris asked, kneeling down in front of her and pulling her into a hug. “M-mommy sounded hurt… is she okay?” She sniffled softly, and your faced heated. Chris nodded his head, scooping Amelia up into his arms and carried her down the hall. You could hear his faint voice.

“Mommy is okay bug, she was just having a nightmare. She’s okay, I promise.” He whispered. “Pinky promise?” Amelia’s muffled voice asked. Chris’ own voice replying in return, “pinky promise.”

After ten minutes or so, Chris came back. Closing the door once more behind him as he climbed into bed next to your naked body. He smirked as he pulled you to him, “you and that mouth sure know how to make someone worry.” He chuckled mockingly.

You smacked his arm lightly, “it was your fault!” You whisper-shouted to him, but laughed in return. “Mhm, you loved it.” He retaliated, pressing a kiss to your lips. And he was right, you did love it. But, now your child might just be scarred for the rest of her life.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “you know I did, now help me clean up please?” You asked, and he nodded, slipping away into the bathroom connected to your room. Hearing the water run then shut off, he came back out with a warm rag.

He walks back over to you, slowly turning you over as he takes the rag to your inner thighs, wiping softly. He made his way up your thighs, finally reaching your core as he wiped gently there too. You hissed softly at the feeling, but were grateful for his help.

Once he was done, he threw the rag into the laundry basket, grabbing a shirt of his on the way back to you once more. He helped you sit up, slipping his shirt over your head and then climbing back into bed with you. You snuggled into his chest, bodies tangled with one another as you both drifted peacefully to sleep.

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© Strnilolover

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♡ A/N : this is absolute shit, sorry y’all. I’ll add the word count later…I need to get better at my smut cause I feel like this was rushed LOL.

[ch6sos]

a/n: this is mainly for black gender neutral readers or those with coily/curly hair but anyone can read :)

Whenever Kento wants to learn something new, he devotes his entire time to it. No, seriously. People around him often ask how he manages to master so many skills, or they gape in awe when they see him in action, because it always looks like he’s a natural. But the truth is, Kento practices—endlessly.

Take cooking, for example. He wasn’t always good at it. His parents were the first to teach him about the importance of basic household skills—especially cooking. They told him, "If you want to survive in the real world, you need to know how to take care of yourself, and cooking is essential."

But his first attempts weren’t smooth at all. He didn’t master stegt flæsk on the first try, nor could he bake the perfect rye bread, or make udon from scratch. In fact, when he first attempted cooking, even the boxed mac and cheese stuck to the pan.

Frustrated but determined, Kento began watching his family closely. He'd observe his mother in the kitchen, occasionally passing her ingredients or awkwardly chopping vegetables. He read cookbooks, borrowed recipes from his grandmother—learning both Japanese and Danish dishes, and followed each step carefully—getting the right ingredients, measurements, and temperatures just right.

That’s how Kento approached every skill he became interested in—whether it was fencing, archery, learning to play the violin, or pottery. He would buy all the necessary equipment, immerse himself in content about it, and fixate on it until he was satisfied with his skill level—like a Sim locked into a single task.

So, when Kento started dating someone with coily hair, he applied the same method.

He noticed how much time they spent on their hair—the hours dedicated to braiding, curling, and washing. He wasn’t the type of partner to just sit back and watch, especially when they were feeling tired.

He went into research mode: watching videos, reading articles, and practicing. Whenever he had time off from work, he’d be on his couch, blue light glasses perched on his nose, eyes glued to YouTube tutorials explaining how to care for coily hair—the products to use, the best protective hairstyles, and the time required for proper maintenance.

He’d search on his Samsung, scrolling through article after article written by people with coily hair, trying to understand how he could help make their routine a bit easier.

One day, his partner caught him with a mannequin head in his lap, his legs crossed on the couch, glasses slipping down his nose, fingers moving as he tried to braid from the scalp down. His brows were furrowed in concentration, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Kento, what are you doing?” they chuckled, glancing at the mannequin on his lap.

He let out a small huff, not annoyed but a little sheepish. “I’m trying to learn how to braid, or at least take care of hair.”

They laughed softly, seeing his frustration as he undid yet another braid that wasn’t quite right. “Why don’t you practice on me?”

“I don’t want to ruin your hair,” he replied, frowning as he started over again, still a bit clumsy but improving.

“I’ll teach you,” they offered, amusement in their voice, touched by how much he wanted to get it right.

Kento’s eyes lit up in excitement, as if he’d forgotten that watching them take care of their own hair was the best lesson he could get. "That’d be great," he said with a lazy grin, pushing his glasses up.

For the next few weeks, they taught him everything—how they followed their daily hair routine, how they carefully braided and styled their hair, and how long it took to recreate certain looks. Kento watched intently, always hesitating before touching their hair, afraid he might mess something up. But with gentle encouragement, he grew more confident.

Eventually, he learned enough to help out. On days when they were tired, Kento would sit them down, placing pillows beneath them, and take over. He’d part their hair with a comb, splitting it into neat sections, his hands gentle as he worked, always mindful not to tug too hard. They’d both watch a silly reality show on TV while he braided or styled their hair.

He even learned how to wash it delicately, stepping into the shower with them to help massage their scalp and rinse out the conditioner. He bought the right products, ensuring they always had what they needed. Sometimes, he’d try new hairstyles on them—ones even they hadn’t thought of—just to keep things interesting.

For Kento, it wasn’t just about learning a new skill. He loved spending that quality time together, knowing that every effort he made to help them made a difference. And in those quiet, intimate moments, he felt truly happy.

[hidtired]

Love Burns

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Some way somehow you crawled your way back from death. All to get back into the arms of one man. Daryl and the rest of the group were taking your death hard, your death was gruesome. So your disheveled arrival back to them was unfathomable… (Duel POVs)

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Fall felt like winter. In a place made of concrete it was decided something needed to be done before winter truly came. The prison still needed a lot of work but with the new people of Woodbury things were getting done a lot faster. Only thing lacking was supplies. So a team was round up to go to a near hardware warehouse. Glenn, Maggie, Rick, Daryl, You, Carol, Sasha, Tyrese, and a few Ex Woodbury people headed out for as much as they all could carry. It was Hershel who suggested that this was dire because someone could get sick and that was supplies we just couldn’t spare. So… this wasn’t all for nothing. This run was the greater good for the prison. Even if it all went wrong by dusk. Even if it cost your life.

Almost all the cars had been full of things. It was decided to send a few of the new people back to empty their trucks and comeback. The chill was numbing everyone’s hands as they moved things back and forth. A fire was started inside the chain link fence. The U haul parked close to it to blocked the wind. Daryl had taken his bike, the psycho. But you had to admit the leather jacket he now wore looked good on him. You and Daryl, still no label but something was there. If the time spent cuddling him every chance you got inside the cellblock said anything. Always using the excuse you were cold, which wasn’t wrong. You’ve both kissed but that had happened only a few times. The only reason you had both gotten so close was the time spent after the farm fell.

It was decided in your mind after this run you would put all your card on the table. So while you were in the warehouse grabbing future farm tools Daryl walked past you making you turn and speak, “Hey, wanna share what little whiskey I have left when we get back.” Daryl turned a small smirk barely noticeably, he grunted before speaking, “Bring out booze? Must be a special occasion.” You glance away then back to him, gathering courage, “Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.” You smiled and walked past him with your head held high mimicking confidence. Little did you know you made the hair on the back of his neck stand and his heart beat just that much faster.

Finally dusk was fast approaching and everyone was gathered around the fire discussing before getting ready to leave. You sat staring into the fire half listening to the chatter of everyone. You had your arms around yourself trying to stop the wind. You were playing out things in your mind to say to Daryl. Trying to develop a way to get your feelings across. Strange how things escalate to life or death. Your peaceful gaze into the now hot coals was interrupted with sounds of gun shots drowned with screams and sounds of the dead marching. It was damn unlucky to have had two herds merge into each other at the warehouse. It was frantic but quick. You had been left to put of the fires. You had waited by the last smoldering one to beat the cold before all of you departed. When the gun fire and screams started you hadn’t thought to look behind you with all the action in front of you.

You heard a thunk before you felt something fall on top of you pulling you to the ground by your legs. You kicked and thrashed killing the walker that snuck up on you. However you noticed a wave of walkers now pulled down a part of the fence with their eyes dead set on you. A few slipping out of through holes in the fence. You unhooked your side arm from its place on your thigh. Pulling the knife you apparently stuck into the walker that jumped you. You look all around you trying to navigate options. But the situation that had originally got your attention also seemed to escalate with another wave of walkers come from every direction. That’s when your awareness made you freeze all together. A pain to your side close to your back. Lifting the layers of your cloths a mark of teeth bleed.

You had been bite.

Ice filled your veins, fear. Your grip tightened on your weapons. You stare as walkers closed the distance. Your name rung in your ears. Daryl scream for your attention, you slowly turned to him. He was a distance away behind a fence with others who seemed to escape the first wave they’d met. Even if you hadn’t been bite to may blocked your way to run into any means of safety. Daryl waved his hands trying beckon you to run to him. He looked like he was going to jump the already bending fence to get to you. Other faces you recognized to be the family you had found yelling in panic along with Daryl’s. You slowly pulled your shirt turning to them. Blood ran down dripping into your pants from the deathly injury. Others seeming to realize what had happened.

“NOOOOOOO!”

The pained yell Daryl had ripped out from himself being followed by the snapping fence falling to the pressure of the herd. Daryl still stood even with the danger coming to him, Rick clearly holding him back with Glenn running over to help drag him away. You smiled at Daryl some tears running down your face, probably the last Daryl will see it as his face disappeared from your sight. You turned around to the herd closer to you. A few walkers had gotten closer to you than you thought. This was your last stand. You fired gunshot after gunshot while managing to kill some with your knife. You tripped on one of the bodys you had put down. You fell expecting to quickly get back up and continue your count down to death bringing any dead bastard with you. But a flare of unexpected pain at your landing made a blood curdling scream vibrate into the air. You had landed into the fire pit. Hot coals with little flame burning you. Ambers exploding around you with your fall. Your open wound on your side sizzles adding more pain to the specific area. You instinctively jumped up away from the pit. Groaning while you forced yourself to stand vision blurred and legs wobbling.

It’s funny… to know you’re about to die. You could never imagine the things to go through your mind until it happens. Your past didn’t flash before your eyes. More thoughts of the future. How will people take your death? Maybe If this didn’t happen then how would you fit into there future. What if you had that drink with Daryl… That pushed you to now. Right now. You woke up. Groggy cold and numb. The smell of death strong. You weren’t sure if maybe you were a walker maybe it was all a dream.

The haze lifted with a spike of your adrenaline as your eyes focus. A walker close to your face with your knife jammed into its head. A gasp filled your lungs, you weren’t dead? You were lying on your stomach under the U haul nearly freezing. The body of walkers all around you seemed to be your insulation. You take in the scene around you, then you do the only logical thing, cry. A sob ripped from you, tears streaming down your now dirt covered face that was laying in the dirt. You were scared, in pain, and alone. It seemed like the only thing you could really do and have the mind to do. In the small gaps that walkers didn’t cover a slight glow came. You pushed through the body’s crawling between them until fresh air hit you. Dark gray clouds hung above you.

The night had passed while you were under the truck. You caught sight of the littered bodys around the area. It was quiet. Not a soul or other wise empty vessel around. You attempted to stand but fell when you became light headed and unbalanced. Another attempt had lead you slowly to your feet. You were covered in dirt. You could only think you were rolling around in it while keeping walkers away from you under the car. The longer you were awake the more you came back to yourself. A hand slowly moved to your forehead. You were cold but shouldn’t you have a fever by now? At the thought you moved some of the fabric from your bite only stopping when your cloths were singed to your body. Were the bite was now was left with a deep embedded scorch marks. Coals had seemed to burned you up to your shoulder and down to your hip on you left side.

The sight of it made you gag but you couldn’t feel a thing from it. The burns must have destroyed the nerves. If the infection of being bite wasn’t going to kill you the infection sure to come from this wound would. A flare of life filled you. A broken chuckle passed your lips filling the dead silence. You need Hershel badly and soon if you wanted a chance to live. A chance was better than what you had thought. You slowly turn around to the U hale in hopes you could drive it back but the tires were blown and a rainbow like liquid had formed a puddle. You probably shot at walkers while under there damaging the car. Like damaging the gas tank and somehow not exploding so you’ll take that win. No that meant you just had to walk several miles back to the prison. Suddenly you remembered you weren’t bond to the roads so maybe you were closer then you thought.

So you took off north into the woods, hopeful and better yet alive.

Daryl POV

Of course nothing ever goes smoothly and this damn run was no exception. It was so close, they were all packed and ready to go. A herd coming didn’t seem like a big deal just alerting them there was no time to dilly dally. So after killing a few and saving people who got surprised by it they stood behind a chain fences that wasn’t going to hold for long the more that pushed against it. Daryl’s eyes flickered to everyone behind the fence. Panic now felt when his eyes didn’t meet yours. He turned back around frantically until he say you standing facing what looked to be another herd. His eyes widened and your name was flying out of his mouth before he even knew he was doing it. You just stood there, not even in a defensive posture, just casually. Your head turned to meet his after hearing him.

Tears ran down your face but your face remained to looked shocked. Maybe you froze in panic so he gestured for you to come quickly but you didn’t move. Soon others joined in calling for you. But when you moved and lifted your shirt he felt like he was sinking. Blood dripped down your side and teeth were imprinted in your skin. His eyes flicked back up to yours to see you smiling at him. He was screaming and moving without a thought.

“NOOOOOOOO!”

A hand grabbed his shirt and then the fence in front of them fell. He still tried moving forward even then but other sets of hands now pulled him backwards. He grunted and gasped still looking at you as he was moved away. The smile on your face directed at him. The look in your eyes saying so many words that he didn’t have the time to decipher in the moment. He didn’t know the words coming from his mouth but he was yelling. For whoever holding him to let him help you in curses and cry’s. When he lost sight of you is when he faltered. More people seemed to be dragging him now. A gunshot went off making him jump in his skin along with the others around him. Sound now processing in his ears. Maggie sobbing along with muffled crying from others.

Everyone had assumed that gunshot was you giving yourself mercy. Then more came making him start dragging his heels again. You were fighting, you were bring some of the herd on them back to you. He was going to fight to get to you. But he froze along with the people clawing him backwards. You were screaming. No you were dying and they all were hearing it. It was guttural and sudden like you were surprised. He was yelling in tears now, “NOOO PLEASE-“ his words jumping starting people again to pull him away. Your pained cries fading when he was pulled into a car. Tyrese was the one locking him in place. Rick driving with Michonne in the passenger side leaning over like she was going to be sick.

Daryl was now desperate to grab air in his lungs as has he went limp in Tyrese grasp. His gasps filled with the now humming engine felt like he was spiraling. Sounds muffled and thoughts racing. ‘Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.’ The feeling from the words originally was like butterflies, now it was hornets. You always wiggled your away into his arms. Excuses of ‘it’s cold.’ or ‘But you’re always so warm.’ He knew for some reason you had taken interest in him. You had lit some dumb teenage feeling in him. Thoughts of you always crossing his mind throughout the day. Hopes of you trying to make your way into his space later in the day. The first time you fell asleep on him was when you crawled in his lap during watch and shivered endlessly while he held you. He continued to watch gaze flickering through trees while holding you and he knew deep down he was screwed.

The fear that kept him away and doubting had come true. He watched trees go by through the window in silence. Tyrese still holding him as he was lying across the seats. Like he would jump out the moving vehicle if given the chance. Even though he didn’t act on his feeling he had still loved you. He felt cold inside. The cold that would have drawn you to him. He will never hold you to him again. His hands trembled to his face and covered his eyes. Your screams echoing in his mind, your sad loving smile played into his mind. His palms dug into his eyes and he cried. His tears breaking seemed to trigger those around him. He heard Rick holding his breath as he sniffled. Michonne would occasionally suck in a gasp. Tyrese trembled with sighs and coughs trying to break the growing ball in his throat.

Eventually making it back to the prison Carl swung the gate open happily for two cars and Carol riding on Daryl’s bike. The unsuspecting grief hadn’t reached the prison but when they got out of the cars it was felt in waves. They were still seemed lost in thoughts, or lost in a moment. Carl looked on to his father who held is head down and hands on his hips. Maggie making her way to her father and cried silently when he hugged her with Glenn close by eyebrows furrowed in pain. When looking at Daryl it was clear to who they lost. He was stock still and pale, in shock. Hershel practically herded them into the cell block. Carol tried to come near him while walking there but he just shock his head and pushed past her.

They sat in silence sitting at the tables they had their breakfast just this morning. Daryl leaned on the wall keeping his distance. Rick was standing and looking on to everyone hunched in to themselves. Judith in his arms was probably the only reason Daryl didn’t go into a berserk rage. Though when Rick started retelling what had happened to the other that weren’t there he was gettin close to it. Nails digging into his palms and teeth clenched he still listened.

“Y/n’s gone… We were just about ready to go when a herd spooked us.” Rick sighed now looking to everyone’s face. “We had gotten behind a fence and Y/N was putting fires out…” Beth had clear tears now growing in her eyes as she listened. “We think a separate herd flanked us but we were so busy with the first to notice. She was across from us with a herd closing in from behind and in front of her. She could have possibly made it… if-“ he cleared is throat starting again. “If she didn’t lift her shirt showing us she was already doomed. I don’t know when or how, but she was bite.” Rick paused then chuckled wetly, “She had to go out being a badass, could hear it in my mind ‘Was it cool at least?’ Always theatrics with that one.” The thought bubbles in Daryl’s stomach, ‘she always said if she was ever going out it was in a blaze of glory, nothing “lame”.’ Daryl leaned forward off the wall moving to pass by everyone. Everyone had stilled at his movement but he just walked into the cell block.

He needed a minute, to cope, scream, cry, yell, he didn’t know but he felt like he was dying. He found his way up the stairs and pushing past the stupid Dino sheets you chose for your room. ‘They’re not ugly! We have a lot more in common with are extinct friends now. Though I would have preferred a meteor…’ He stared at everything that had been left where you had it. He stumbled to sit on the edge of your bed looking around. You had so many weird thing… you were so weird. A now deflated happy birthday ballon he remembered you yelling, ‘JACKPOT’ when you found it scavenging. Then his eyes locked onto a bottle of whiskey. It was not even half full but when he saw it tears started falling quietly. He picked it up and held it to his chest.

“Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.” That sentence would haunt him forever.

Your POV

You groaned like the dead as you made your way through the woods. Speaking of the dead they didn’t much notice you. That had made you spiral in the whole am I really a walker?! But then you remember you were covered in dirt and blood and walking like you had a few to many. You were starting to feel warm putting you into a cold sweat. It was hard to not think that maybe the bite was still going to kill you. You had burnt it with the rest of your back to hell. You probably look like you crawled out from hell. The thought made you dazily laugh out loud. Ok so maybe you were delirious. If that manic laugh that bubbled from you wasn’t any indication. You weren’t thinking straight. Only moving in the direction you think is to the prison? God you could go for some pasta right about now, Olive Garden salad and bread sticks… damn. Little mint at the end. You trip out of your thoughts slamming into the forest floor with a groan.

It had snapped you back into a clearer head space. Your vision swam a little but you started to push yourself back up. So turns out your near death thoughts weren’t as epic as you thought they were going to be, just bread sticks and mints. You sighed looking around trying to gain your bearings. You could hear some water to your right meaning you were indeed going the right way. Just 20 more minutes and you were back to the prison. You wonder if you could have had a dinner date with Daryl. I suppose you still could if you didn’t die. The poor man had tried running into a herd for you. You were getting more unbalanced as you walked leaning from tree to tree. Wood splitting and jamming into your hands, only adding to a list of injures. The worst part was you didn’t feel much of anything pain wise. The cold numbed you and your lack of cognitive ability was no better help.

The stream broke off flowing into the direction of the prison. You saw the bridge that held the water pump before the prison. You somehow managed to get back here. The prison was still quieter than normal. You could see closer to the gate a few people were clearing walkers, vision to bleary to know who. A thunk sounded coming into the middle of the inclosed clearing. Rick was cutting wood with Carl moving logs for him to cut. Slowly making your way to the fence you didn’t realize your throat was so scratchy, nothing but a huff of air coming out. That’s right, you had been screaming…. and crying. You lean into the fence hands intertwined with the cool dewy metal.

A walker was pushed against the fence to your right staring to Rick and Carl too. You slowly push down to the floor grabbing a stick. You pushed back up using the fence to walk closer to the walker. Taking a deep breath you kicked the back of the walkers legs making it fall to its knees. The walker grumbled in shock or protest but it was silence with the stick shoved in its eyes. The constant noise of the walker was acknowledged by the Grimes so when it abruptly stopped they looked over to where it was. You were leaning into the side of the fence as you heard feet approaching, “Who are- Holy shit!” You heard them running and the sound got farther from you. The heavy gate door grunted open and the running sound came back toward you. You tried moving along the fence, tripping yet again on the walker, this time only to your knees.

A shadow fell over you causing you to look up seeing Rick kneeling in front of you, hands moving to pull you up. Your adrenaline was dropping now that the task you set for yourself was complete. The fall made your head swim, voices now muffled as blood pulled into your head. You saw Rick talking but didn’t comprehend anything he said. He soon pointed at Carl and your eyes moved over to the boy. Walkers had made their way out of the woods at the commotion. You suddenly were being jostled now. Rick had put an arm to the back of your shoulders and his other arm to the back of your knees and lifted you into him. You were slightly over Rick’s shoulder as he quickly moved. Then you realized what Rick was yelling.

“HERSHEL! HERSHEL! HERSHEL!”

That was right, you wanted Hershel to help you… help you? What for again? Your mind clicked as you watched the door of the gate close behind you. Some faces now appeared as Rick continued to carry while trying not to dig his hands into your injury. You had been injured, right. Some looks you caught while over Rick shoulder was nothing you’ve seen direct at yourself. The group formed shuffling to the gate to get into the court yard. You recognized Maggie gasping and her saying, “Oh my god is she alive?! H-how?” You rumbled out a deep noise. “Cause I’m a badass.” You were becoming slack and your vision was blurring. You were trying to remain awake. Maybe for the face you so desperately wanted to see, and the other part of you was afraid you wouldn’t wake back up. But at last you involuntarily relaxed as you heard him, “Y/N!” His voice was pained and dry, but it sent a smile to your face before you went still as Rick continued moving you.

Daryl POV

He fell asleep in your bed. Selfishly taking in what little smell was left of your space. The whiskey bottle was held to his chest untouched. He kept waking up ever hour. He felt wrong like something was missing. His body knew that you weren’t with him and it made him restless. He would think about your screams feeling like he still heard them. He would play back random moments with you. He just couldn’t seem to move. Stuck laying down holding the bottle you both were going to share, stuck going in and out of consciousness. He was depressed he realized. It was the norm for his sadness to spark rage but he just felt defeated. With Merle he got angry, upset even. But he could still move. His world was still moving then but now he wasn’t sure how it kept spinning with you gone.

Everyone was already moving through the day doing tasks that needed to be completed. He heard the shuffles and whispers of his friends- his family. He would hear someone’s breath hitch while talking about you. He was left alone with Glenn being the one saying, “Leave the man alone.” With other things like, ‘when Lori died-‘ or, ‘if it had been Maggie I’d be the same.’ He would thank the man on another day. So here he is still, morning coming to pass, in your bed staring at the ceiling. He tried to not think about how you might be a walker wondering or even worse your body was still there. He would have to push himself up to that. But the silence around the prison seemed to have broke.

The heavy door that lead in from out doors slammed opened and a panicked Maggie nervously yelled for her father. “D-Daddy somethings wrong Rick’s yelling for you!” Daryl’s hearing perked up feeling the pit in his stomach drop further. Dread seeping into him, ‘Another bad thing was happening.’ He heard the clicking of Hershel’s crutch’s as he moved through the door that Maggie’s had burst through. Daryl squeezed his eyes shut before sucking in a breath in and huffing it out. He got up.

He got to his feet moving down the stairs buzzing with adrenaline. Not sure if he was going to have to protect people or kill someone. As Daryl pushed through the metal door to the court yard an icy wind blew through him. The hair on the back of his neck stood. He turned over to the commotion gathering by the gate to the yard. Scanning the area he didn’t see danger so he made his way over to the group. “Oh my god is she alive?! H-how?” Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed as he got closer over hearing people now.

“Cause I’m a badass.”

Although the voice was deep and scratchy he froze at the familiar voice. He only paused for a moment before he started running the rest of the way there, “Y/N!” His voice was slightly harsh with dis use and the ball of tension in his throat didn’t help much either. You were being held up in a weird way by Rick but you sluggish turned drooping slightly as you did. When your eyes met you smiled but it slowly fell as you went slack. Rick was moving again with the demands of Hershel yelling orders to Carol and Maggie to gather things. Daryl saw your cloths, burnt holes and black and red covered you. Your skin stuck sticking to fabric as deep char marks riddled your back and side. He was speechless as the group passed him but he still followed. Maybe he fell asleep again and was dreaming all this.

“I need disinfectant and a bucket of clean water!”

Rick had set you down on your stomach in an unused cell. Your arm dangled over edge swaying. He stood the watching in shock. People were scrambling around him. He didn’t realize he had gotten the bottle still in his hands before he looked down and walked over practically shoving it into the man’s arms. Daryl was wide eyed as he watched your still form, “Daryl I need you to cut off her clothes. Be careful of her shirt.” A hand clasped to his shoulder finally clicking everything into place. His hand had moved for his knife and he slowly cut down right side on a seam. He slowly plead the shirt from you. It would stick then tug and pull off of you making him cringe. Hershel started talking again as Daryl moved to pull down your jeans.

“You said she was bite?” Daryl let your pants fall to the floor as he looked back up to the side he had seen it. Your entire side was indented and black. Some black circles were higher up to your shoulders as your enter left side seemed to have taken most of the burns. He pointed to were he had last saw the bite. “It was here- shit she fell into the fire pit.” The screams he heard played back into his mind. The pain and surprise that had ripped from you. Hershel now with a cloth and water started cleaning the area removing the grim, “That means she might have stopped the spread of the infection with how deep these burns are.” Hershel paused looking over her body. He then put a hand to your forehead, “She’s warm but not feverish…” Hershel grabbed the bottle of whiskey again turning to Daryl and popping the lid of,

“Get out of here Daryl. Maggie! Carol! I need hands!”

He watched as the two girls push past him and before he was out of sight from you saw Hershel dump some of the alcohol onto the area. He stepped out turning to see worried and confused faces. They stared at him silently with the background noise of Hershel making demands of his helpers. Sasha almost whispered her question to him, "How is she still alive?" Everyone turned to her before looking at him expectantly as the wondered the same. Daryl looked like he was visibly thinking before he sighed, "I don't know. She fell in the fireplace is all I know." Rick looked to the floor nodding thinking back to when he first saw you and struggled to pick you up around what looked to be burns. Daryl spoke again almost hopefully, "Hershel thinks there's a chance she stop the infection from spreading with how deep the burns are."

Hopeful gasps filled the air. Carl was the next to speak almost as a demand, "Then we going to use all are medical supplies we've got if there is a chance." Rick whispered, "Carl..." but Beth jumped in. "W-we have it for reasons like these! I know she is technically bite but we have no clue if she stopped it, its worth splurging to see if this could save others!" Rick looked surprised at the outburst mouth opening about to speak before Glenn jumped in also pleading to him, "Well find more!" Other silently agreeing and nodding. Daryl looked between the group so determined about your life smirking at it even but, he knew what Rick was trying to say. Sure enough the man had chuckled shacking his head, "Why are you all looking at me for, I'm not the leader anymore. This is a matter for the council. But I think that decision has already been made." It had only started not to long ago with Rick being the stand in while everyone settled on who the council consisted of. Michonne clapped her hands together, "Right is has been settled then, what ever cost to keep her alive." It was a waiting game now.

Days pass with the prison fueled with a hope. The once depressive air had lifted once Hershel declared you stable and with no fever. It was determined until a day later with still no fever you were not infected. The only problem now way you had yet to wake up. The girls had cleaned you of all the caked on dirt from your skin and hair they best they could with you unconscious and your injury. Daryl with any of his free time was by your side. He even took to sleeping in the bunk above you. He changed your bandage most of the time. You were on the your third IV by the 5th day. Daryl had a chair pulled by your side as he fiddled with his crossbow and bolts, your steady breathing having a calming effect on him. The breathing pattern faltered for a second making him look up to you. He stared for a moment before you seemed to grunt in pain. The hair was rising on the back of his neck. Hazy eyes open and your cuffed hand attempted to move but was halted by it be attached to the metal bed frame in the wall.

Daryl felt his heart race as he watched you slowly and groggily start moving. He reached to stopping your hand from moving with his own. "Hey, stay down." You groaned pain probably hitting you finally making Daryl call for Hershal. The clicking of crutch’s came closer but he looked back down to you at your sudden silence. Your eyes met with his and in that moment you saw straight into his soul making him feel exposed. All his nerves seemed to stand on end with your quiet gaze. A small smile creeping it way on your face. Daryl leaned down moving some hair from your face as you remained on your stomach. When he was crouched closer to you he whispered, “Hey darlin’…” You huffed out air and a tear ran down your cheek. He was smiling down at you feeling the weight of deaths grip finally releasing you back to him.

Hershel broke the moment but he never stopped holding your hand as the older man fussed over you. Your voice was rough to say the least. He winched at your first attempt at using it. “iM aLivE…?” Daryl squeezed your hand and the ball in his throat suck to his chest as he let out a chuckle. You seemed just as surprised of the fact just like them. You hissed before flinching forcibly relaxing your muscles but you still spoke again, “tHe BiTe?” Hershel had moved injecting something in your IV bag, pain killers hopefully. Your eyes barely following the movement as Hershel spoke calmly with a smile, “You’ve been out for a few days. No fever. We are working on the burns because they are festering but blistering. You killed the infection.” Your eyes squeezed shut and you sniffled a little tears poured from your eyes in relief. Daryl couldn’t help for his eyes to blur a little to. A hand fell to his shoulder, Hershel. “Her blood pressure is still low so keep her lying down. Try and fed her something small for now until she is up right.”

With that he hobbled away probably going to spread the good news that you are up. His attention snapped back to you when he heard a faint whisper of his name, “daryl.” You had a dopey grin as you stare up at him making the knotted ball in his stomach loosen. You smile falter and a harsh sounding, “woOaH-“ your eyes blinking like your vision got blurry. He intertwined his fingers behind yours as he keyed open the cuffs. “goDdaMn…. HaRdcorE dRugS hEllo~” Daryl chuckled seeing you sag in relief. Your eyes moved to something behind him a long, “hEeeY…” your lips pouting. He turned around questioningly at what you were staring at. The bottle of now empty whiskey, aah. He turned back to you running his free hand into your hair, “Don’t look at me I didn’t drink it.” You stare at the bottle softly saying, “How wiLl I woe a DiXon nOw?”

Daryl sighs feeling that ever burning in his chest when it comes to you. “Don’t think you need to worry to much about that, think he is beyond woed.” You dawn a familiar smirk he knows means trouble. ‘Mmm’ vibrates from your chest, “Good… been really laying it on thick as of late. Hell crawled back from death for the guy.” Your voice seemed to not rattle in your hushed tone. You seemed to struggle to keep your eyes open and focus you spoke once more before closing your eyes and falling to drugs and exhaustion, “So much for not using the med supply like Hershel said…”

Love burns with either the loss of them or the fact they exist in the first place, but you would say the fireplace hurt a tad bit more than loving your gruff hunter.

Feedback welcome and requests open!

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

What do you think of reader having a life changing passionate one night stand with Billy? Got my man thinking of houses with white picket fences and a dog. But he wakes up and she's bolted. How do you think he'll stalk her and find her?

Asking for a friend 👀👀👀👀

I want you to know I've thought about this very idea already.

The idea of him experiencing a woman and realizing that he wants more than a one night stand.

He meets her maybe at a bar, and he's not really paying attention, just going through the motions of seducing her to fill that ache inside of him. But he starts paying attention the minute he fits himself inside of her, and suddenly he can't get enough of her skin and her mouth and the way her hair feels and the sounds she makes

And maybe she makes him laugh, after sex when they're almost asleep she says something that has him laughing and wondering what she'll look like in the morning, and whether he'd have the willpower to stop himself from jumping her and for those brief moments he doesn't feel so alone.

He should have seen her disappearing act coming from a mile away.

He can't forget her, and he doesn't want to, and maybe a few weeks later he catches sight of her at the same bar with another guy chatting with her and he tilts his head and decides that she won't be going home with anyone other than him anytime soon.

Maybe she left because she assumed that was what he'd wanted, she couldn't have been farther from the truth and he's going to make sure she knows it.

[scott1shabbyand3rson]

Apple picking with soft!Abby

Cw:none!

You and Abby had been going out for about 7 months now when you brought up the idea for a date of apple picking, Abby was immediately intrigued by the idea so one hot summers day you both went out to go and pick some apples. There was an orchard near where you stayed so the drive wasn't too long only about 15 minutes

"isn't this gonna be fun abs!" You look out your window at all the apple trees passing by "yeah sweetheart just calm yourself alright" she says with a chuckle, you had been wanting to do this for ages.

You finally pull into the parking lot and you get out of Abby's truck looking at all the apple trees. You find your hand in Abby's fingers intertwined. "Come on abs!" You basically drag her along laughing "I'm coming sweetheart calm yourself" you both reach the white fence and you walk in grabbing a basket there was some other people here already but that didn't matter you both start picking your apples trying to find the sweetest ones when you find one that was red with what looked like a green heart "look abby it's got a heart! I wanna give it to you" you hold the apple out to her "for me darling?" You nod your head "well thank you" you giggle and kiss her cheek.

You guys continue to pick apple when you accidentally cut yourself in a branch "ouch!" Abby looks over at you and your bleeding finger "you alright baby?" You show Abby your finger, Abby wipes your finger on her shirt before gently kissing it "feel better baby?" You nod "I think that's enough apple picking what do you say we go home?" "Yes please" you and Abby go home and make the most delicious apple pie ever and she put an apple bandaid on your cut safe to say you where completely and utterly in love with this woman

@saved1byabs @aanvime

[ninyard]

How good do you think the individual foxes actually are at exy? Like we know Kevin is like THE diva of exy, Andrew can be insanely good when he tries, we know Neil is steadily improving and it's also mentioned that Matt is quite good, but what about the rest of them? Cause I lowkey feel like Nicky kinda sucks ass noah fence.

i think nicky is the personality hire

im kidding okay be nice to nicky. he tries his best. he just wants to be in germany with his husband when all of a sudden he's playing SPORTS??!?!??!

i think purely based on the arrangement made by wymack it's POSSIBLE that nicky is the weakest on the team. but i don't think he's bad. or holding them back. necessarily. realistically regardless of the personal reasons why wymack would have anyone on the team i think all of them are there because they can play. i don't think he just gets random people with problems and hands them an exy racquet and a dream you know. he still scouts for the team and decides who to sign and who not to sign.

my kind heart wants to say they're all on the same level. okay it DOES. i think they're all talented and Good. i know they're not equal but i can't categorise them because i feel bad for the people that are lower bc i still think they're good just not AS good as the people above em. ive written a list out in order like half a dozen times and i just feel bad about ranking them above each other :( they all have their strengths okay!!!!!!!!!

like do i think allison is better than it seems she is because of how much she gave up for exy? do i think that matt is on par with neil, and could be a really strong backliner if he kept working towards it? do i think that dan is a really strong leader which makes her a better player? do i think that renee is possibly much stronger on the court than in goals for not a whole bunch of reasons but Because I Feel It To Be True?

[lemotmo]

My 911 8x01 thoughts

Just watched the episode!

So many thought! I have so many thoughts!

I haven’t even read any of the interviews yet. I’m just going to dump all my thoughts on the episode in this post and then I’ll get to the interviews and asks.

Also, this post might be incoherent and not chronological in any way.

First things first:

F*CK HELENA DIAZ! I wanted to reach through the TV-screen and strangle her. I was on the fence about her last season. But this? F*ck her! Seriously! I actually cried at seeing Eddie’s crestfallen face. The way she dismissed her own damn son and kinda makes it seem like Chris is better off in El Paso? The way she rubs it in his face that she has the money to install a pool? I hate it. It reeks of emotional manipulation. 🤬🤬🤬

Okay, now that that’s off my chest. Let’s get to the rest of the episode.

Let’s get Tommy out of the way first. Okay, the guy was there for 20 seconds and said 1 line. The way they all hung out together was interesting. Once again, Eddie is in the middle… visually as well. As they were hiding behind the couch and jumped up, Eddie was in the middle. They are showing us Buck and Tommy still being in that early giddy stage of a relationship, which is pretty much what Tim and Oliver talked about in their interviews.

It's funny how I care less about Tommy being there when he actually doesn’t speak.🤷‍♀️ Lou didn’t really have to do a lot of acting. Tommy just had a fun scene with Buck and Eddie and I actually didn’t mind him being there. It once again reminded us where the storyline is going. It also shows us that Eddie and Tommy are still friends, which is interesting.

I have a feeling that we will see Eddie come between them more often. Mainly because Buck will want to emotionally support Eddie as much as he can and I think Tommy might just call Buck out on that.

All right, what else? Ah the bees… I actually liked the emergencies. It’s something else than a normal natural disaster. The mom and daughter in the car was so on point. Here you have a mom who is willing to use her own epi pen to save her daughter. Most moms would act like that. (Well, unless your name is Helena Diaz of course.) I did wonder why she doesn’t carry two epi-pens. I mean, if the whole family is allergic to bees, I would probably haul around 3 or 4 of them in my purse. Not taking chances there.

The perfume emergency was so funny. I liked the lady and her assistant. They brought some comedy. Also, Eddie running off with those bees? Such a great scene. I like how they said that Eddie was the fastest runner. I know Buck’s legs are longer, but he would just bumble around, stumble and fall. He’s clumsy like that in his running. We’ve seen that before.😂

I do feel like Eddie and Buck are even more in sync than ever. The fist bumping, the sharing of thoughts, the blind trust Eddie has in Buck’s ideas is incredible. Buck suggests something and Eddie just accepts what he says and goes along with it. I love that. Their dynamic is so great! 🤗

Okay, hmmmm… ah, Gerrard. I love the actor so much! He is such a great antagonist. The way he kept targeting Buck because Buck just kept talking back is such a basic bullying move. At the end there I really thought that Buck was going to hit Gerrard, but then -clear as a bell- there was Eddie’s voice in his head telling Buck to not let Gerrard get to him. Loved that detail! And then he actually saves his life! I wonder how Gerrard will react when he wakes up? I also wonder how Tommy will react to all of this?

Bobby! Bobby has an admirer! LOL! The guy was almost simping over Bobby, trying to watch his each and every move. And his heavy British accent? Definitely a reference to Oliver. Bobby doesn’t seem to hate his new job, but it’s obvious he misses the old one.

I can smell Madney and Henren problems from miles away. I predicted this storyline and I think I’ll be right. Chimney is getting attached to Mara and Mara is feeling more and more at home with the Hans. Now, that doesn’t mean that they’ll want to keep her or anything like that, but it does mean that Hen and Karen are looking in from the sidelines.

The longer Mara stays at Madney’s house, the more Henren might feel left out. I don’t know… I smell problems coming up there. Interested to see where this will lead. Ultimately I’m pretty sure Mara will return to the Wilsons, but in the mean time they will have to create some drama there.

That brings me to my least favourite part of this episode: Athena’s storyline. Once again, Athena can do it all. How is it possible that one single police officer who has a personal history with a prisoner can get assigned to single-handedly escort and protect said prisoner from Phoenix to LA? I don’t understand why they keep giving Athena these terrible storylines where she is some kind of superwoman who can do it all and who knows it all.

This man should be escorted by more people to make sure he arrives at his destination. After that fake agent pulled her over? She should have called it in and waited for back up in the airport.

Also, the fake agent was alone in this scenario, which is a big plot hole. Why didn’t he come with back-up to ensure they would get to the prisoner? Plot holes like this just take me out of the story.

This storyline is fabricated just to put Athena on that plane with the prisoner and he’ll probably get his redemption storyline because of it. He’ll heroically save her or something like that. Or maybe he can magically fly a plane. I don’t know. I didn’t care for this storyline all that much.

I wish they would give Athena some better storylines. I love the character, but I don’t like what they keep doing to her. I don’t like the person she becomes when she goes into supercop-mode like that. Anyway, just a personal opinion. If you feel differently about this, great for you.

Overall, I really liked most of the episode. It was fun, scary, exciting and I didn’t even check once to see when it would be over. Which is always a good sign.

Onwards to next week!

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Being right that there are construction workers in the 118 has me 👀👀👀 especially in combination with new cast iron pipe work and ring fencing the firehouse. So many metaphors to mull over!

Something something about both of Bobbys houses being destroyed. Something something about the Grant-Nash house being destroyed and Bobby getting ill over it. And something something about the grant-nash house not being his house (in that he moved into Athena’s (and Michael’s) house and bathena never had something they created together).

And something something about how the 118 was the same under Gerrards previous stint as captain and wasn’t changed after he was ousted and so the firehouse is also somewhere Bobby just moved into and didn’t make physical changes to.

And now Gerrard is back and making changes - fencing in the 118 - like a dragon hoarding its pile of gold - as if a fence will somehow stop it being taken from him again and protect him from outside forces. (Spoiler; it won’t!) something about the construction and how it mirrors Bobby and the Grant-Nash house’s destruction - his other house that wasn’t fully his being destroyed by an outside force.

Something about the G-N outside force meeting their comeuppance and how Gerrard ends up on a gurney.

Something something about how the cast iron pipe work also plays into the fence, but also into the concept of leaks and Gerrards view of the 118 is it being a ‘leaky boat’ that needs more than being patched up. But also how leaks could possibly play into the Ortiz storyline. Because cast iron pipe work is heritage pipe work (which also fits with the return of Gerrard) and not commonly used in modern buildings because of its susceptibility to corrosion and need for more regular maintenance. Which plays nicely into the possible direction of Gerrards arc - outdated and corroded (corrupt) and needing higher maintenance (as displayed by his ridiculous need to be a bully and assert his authority in that scene)

[thatgenericwriter]

Concert Headcanons || House MD Characters

Paring: House MD characters x gn! reader

Summary: how House MD characters would act if you asked them to go to a concert with you

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1k

p.s. based on a request by anonymous

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~Cameron~

Cameron is a little reluctant at first. She is worried that House will do something stupid and she will have to tend to him. This leads you to begging Wilson to babysit House that night. He is reluctant at first but understands your love for Mitski and agrees.

"Are you sure that Wilson will make sure House is okay?" She asks you for the fifth time that night.

You stop curling her hair before looking at her through the mirror. The worried look on her face makes you sigh. Spinning the chair around you stare into her eyes only seeing pure worry in them.

"For the last time Allison. House. Is. Fine. Wilson is there to ensure nothing will happen, but if you are still worried, you can go to his rescue and I'll take Chase instead."

This makes Cameron spin around in her chair to face the mirror again. "No, you're right. House will be okay, but I'll be damned if you take that Australian prick to Mitski and not me."

You smile at her in the mirror before happily continuing to curl her hair.

~Foreman~

He hates going to concerts. He used to go all the time as a teenager, probably by jumping fences or sneaking into the venues. That is until he got caught breaking into houses and decided to change his life.

He wants to forget about that time in his life, which leads him to immediately say no when you tell him about an Artic Monkeys concert that you really want to go to with him. You are discouraged at first until you remember that you are his soft spot.

"Will you pretty, pretty please go to this concert with me?" You pout your lips and bat your eyelashes at him, trying to pull off the desperate partner look.

You see his eyes soften for a moment before he goes back to reading his medical journal.

"Not going to happen."

On your next attempt a few days later you are determined to get him to say yes. Wearing your most form flattering outfit, doing your hair the way he likes it, even going as far as strutting and swaying your hips as you walk up to him.

"Hey babe?"

He looks up from his book and starts to say something before he stops and looks at you, mouth agape and eyes practically popping out of their sockets. You walk closer to him, sitting on the armrest of his chair and leaning into him.

"So...about that concert."

~Chase~

Chase is down immediately. This man is totally whipped for you. You could ask him to help you kill someone and he would ask no questions. He's like a little Australian puppy, constantly following you around and begging for your attention.

He would try to act nonchalant around everyone else and pretend like you didn't have him wrapped around your finger, but then you would ask him to get you a coffee and it would be in your hands within the next minute.

"Hey, Chase.... Would you maybe want to go to this conc..."

"Yes."

"You didn't even let me finish."

When you get to the concert he's buying you everything your eyes linger on. That cool T-shirt you saw? Purchased. Those funky light up glasses? Bought and on your head before you can blink.

And when The Weekend finally comes on stage but you can't quite see over the crowd in front of you? You are on his shoulders before you can even process it.

The next day when your retelling your amazing night to your coworkers, Chase has a burning blush on his cheeks that won't fade. He will be teased for the next few weeks, but it is all worth it for the huge smile that won't leave your face.

~Remy (13)~

There are only a few artists that thirteen will see live, it's a good thing that you both have a love for Chappel Roan. You corner her at work and jokingly drop down on one knee before presenting the tickets to her.

"Remy, would you make me the happiest person in the world and come with me to see Chappel Roan?"

"Oh my god! Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!"

You both laugh before she helps you up off the ground and grabs the tickets from you. You both agree to get ready at her apartment when the time comes.

Let's just say it's a good thing you got there extra early, otherwise, your activities would have made you miss the concert altogether.

~House~

Getting House to go to a concert with you requires a week's worth of planning. You really have to butter him up before asking him, otherwise you would be shot down immediately.

It starts out simple with you agreeing with everything he says and praising every word that comes out of his mouth.

"Wow Chase! You really are fucking stupid!"

"House is right Chase, you are really dumb."

Then you go into gift giving. Just simple little things like a snack on his desk, or a new bottle of Vicoden.

"Here you go House! One KitKat for you and one for me!"

Then you bring it home with some physical touch. A touch of his hand, lightly bumping your hip with his, running your hand through his hair. simple things.

"House there's something on your face. Here let me get it"

"You do know you are just caressing my face at this point, right?"

Finally, you pop the question.

"House will you pretty pretty pretty please go to this Taylor Swift connect with me?"

There is a look of disgust that crosses his face before a look of realization replaces it.

"Is this why you've been sucking up to me?"

He takes a little more convincing and some threatening before he finally agrees. He will say that he had a horrible time, but you saw him lip singing and tapping his foot to the rhythm the entire time. He even "accidentally" bought two of the same shirt and "reluctantly" took one from you.

Safe to say you will be teasing him about this for a while.

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Author's Note: this is my first time writing headcanons so if its shit don't tell me also I'm slowly getting through requests so be patient plz

[chrysanthemumgames]

i know its probably spoiler territory but can i ask if demeter will appear in blood of the living? i agree with the anon that said being able to confront her and have her actually listen was super cathartic, and i'd love the option to have a relationship with her in the future. especially if it means we could help her change her mind about the underworld even more!

(plus like. i feel like that would be the biggest F you to zeus. like i can picture demeter being like oh, you laugh about my child wanting to live apart from me? jokes on you we're closer than ever before. also i made friends with your brother who it turns out is a much better king and person than you will ever be.)

It's a bit of a spoiler, but yes. Demeter will appear in BotL. Of course, players who don't want to see her can avoid her subplot altogether, but this is essentially what the subplot is about: making amends/mending fences if necessary and otherwise getting to know the PC (and their new friends) for who they really are.

[bittermarching]

(I've said this before but,) It's annoying to me how so many people feel compelled to spread disinformation and present every situation as completely black and white, regardless of the facts, to manipulate other people into agreeing with them. This happens all the fucking time, especially online.

A recent example: M. Williams, the man who was recently executed in Missouri (not putting his full name bc I don't want a bunch of illiterate keyboard "prison abolitionists" telling me to kms). Lemme first preface this by saying I Do Not think he should've been executed. Just to be clear.

There are a million zillion posts on this site claiming that there was "overwhelming forensic evidence definitively proving his innocence" and that the "only evidence" linking him to the crime was the testimony of two cellmates who were rewarded for their testimonies. Both of these things are false.

What linked him to the crime was a) the victim's stolen items were found in his possession (obviously he could have just been a fence, but the items found were a ruler and a calculator, which have no value so why would a fence have that?); b) the testimony of his girlfriend who said that he confessed and had scratches on his neck and blood on his shirt and the victim's laptop in his car; c) the victim's stolen laptop was recovered from a man who said Williams sold it to him; d) the alleged jailhouse confession his former cellmate claimed he made. Neither Williams' girlfriend or the man who bought the laptop received any reward for testifying, as far as I could find. The gf was awaiting trial on an unrelated crime, but it doesn't seem like she got a plea deal or anything for testifying. The cellmate did receive a reward, so that imo makes his testimony somewhat less persuasive. There was also the fact that he had a history of armed robbery.

However! And this is why his death sentence should have been overturned (regardless of whether you support the existence of the death penalty at all), there were several serious issues with how the crime was investigated, the trial, and post-trial handling of the case.

First, regarding the forensic evidence, the DNA of an initially-unidentified man was found on the knife. It turns out, that DNA belonged to one of the prosecutors who contaminated the evidence by repeatedly handling it without gloves. (This is where people seem confused, claiming that the DNA belongs to the real culprit, but that is false). The fact that the evidence was mishandled alone should have been enough imo to overturn his sentence bc the jury did not have this info when they convicted him.

Second, the prosecuting attorney handling voir dire (jury selection) had a Very Clear racial bias, as he eliminated all but one Black juror, and the reason he gave for eliminating one of them was that he "looked too much like" Williams. Which, I mean. Come on, that's just insanely clear anti-Black racism.

Third, the bizarre, intentional mishandling of this case post-trial. First, the former governor stays the execution and forms a panel of judges to review the case. But then, the new governor suddenly dissolves the panel before they finish their investigation and just decides to lift the stay on the execution. A lawsuit was pending to have another trial into Williams' innocence, given all the new evidence about the mishandling of the trial, but the state supreme court found that they didn't have the authority to withdraw the execution order. Williams accepted a plea deal devised by prosecutors that would have his conviction commuted to life without parole. The state sup. ct. blocked the plea deal. The governor denied his plea for clemency. Basically, the people in positions of final authority seemed absolutely determined to go through with this execution no matter what.

I might've missed some details here, I read a bunch of articles and tried to piece things together, but the length of this post was already getting away from me.

But the point is, I hate how ppl feel the need to oversimplify complex issues and events in order to convince others of the point they're trying to make. It is true that there were actual, material pieces of evidence linking Williams to the crime and that he did have a history of armed robbery. But it's equally true that the investigation and trial were biased and mishandled and that the governor and state supreme court seemed hellbent on having this man executed. Honestly, I don't think he was innocent -- it's undeniable that he was at least involved in the crime in some fashion. HOWEVER, if there is any doubt at all about a person's guilt, the death penalty should be off the table. And there was absolutely doubt. The evidence did not conclusively 100% show that no one else could have committed the murder and the investigation, trial, and post-trial were all very messy to say the least. And that should be enough to make people outraged at his execution! You should be able to accurately present the facts and let people decide whether they agree with you. And yet every post I've seen on this case falsely claims that there was definitive evidence proving that he was completely innocent, portraying him as just some random man the state decided to target despite having no connection to the case.

Even when I agree with the point being made, the disinformation people spread to manipulate others into agreeing with them really pisses me off. It's like we're all mini-politicians nowadays willing to say anything to accomplish our own agendas and I can't trust anything without verifying it with 15 separate independent sources. (I mean I've always done that bc I'm a full time skeptic, but still). This case is just one example, but it's constant and it drives me insane.

And, for the record, I'm not some death penalty fanatic who just loves throwing people in prison for no reason. I have done volunteer work for the Innocence Project, including their death penalty divison which aims to get inmates off of death row. Which is more than most of y'all can say, so.

[yeyinde]

waking up after a night out drinking in a foreign country only to realise that the bed you're in is not your own. no one is beside you. you try to leave but the doors are all locked. the windows won't open. you're trapped. a pretty bird in a cage.

nothing is in the dressers except large, old shirts. the clothes you were wearing when you woke up disappear after you take a shower. no panties. no bra. food shows up on schedule. you never see who leaves it.

they don't answer when you scream. when you bang your fists against the door until they're bloodied. passing out on the floor when the drugs finally kick in. but the mess you make in the daytime is cleaned up. your hands bandaged. disapproval heavy in the air along with the stale scent of tobacco. smoke.

when you're good, you get things. books. magazines. treats. your favourite food. a laptop arrives when you sob yourself to sleep after screaming yourself hoarse about loneliness, and how this isn't right. this isn't okay. it's restricted, of course. you log into Facebook but the moment you try and ask for help, the internet is turned off. you're being watched. monitored closely.

you learn your lesson slowly, giving nothing away to your family and pretending you're enjoying your holiday. being good. quiet.

instead of treats, gifts, recipe books arrive—some pages dogeared. you start making the food. leaving a plate in the fridge. it's gone the next morning. more recipes appear. you make them, too. an expensive chain comes next. a pretty gold necklace for a pretty bird in a golden cage.

(each meal gets you a strange rash on your cheek, jaw the next morning. beard burn, you think, and try not to shudder.)

lingerie comes after. silk, lace. all of it fits perfectly. you try to avoid it. the idea, the implication, is a knife between your ribs, but the next morning, your laptop is missing. the books are gone. food, too. your clothes disappear until all that remains is the lingerie set and a little black box. one you pointedly ignore. throw out with the trash. chew on gum to make the ache in your belly go away until that vanishes too.

your world is narrowed down to hunger. loneliness. isolation—

(in the corner of the rooms, a red light glints in the dark. lonely, but not alone.)

it persists until you relent. give in. another lesson you learn. you wear the set to bed, and try to think nothing of it—

you wake up to something heavy around you. a warm, thick body pressed against your bare spine. coarse chair tickling the skin between your shoulder blades. a burly arm under your neck, elbow bent to wrap a rough hand around your neck. the other slung over your hip, shoved between your thighs. something hard presses into your ass. a bruising pressure. it aches. you stifle a gasp, but with his long, thick fingers wrapped tight around your throat, he feels it.

everything goes still. quiet. just the faint rustle of sheets. the scratch of coarse hair on silk. a breath. you tremble. fight back another gasp when lips press into your crown with a sharp inhale. scenting you. nuzzling into your scalp. warm breath that smalls of malt and honey. woodsy. tobacco.

your eyes adjust slowly to the dark, and fall on a black box left on top of your end table. velvet, you know. you've felt the softness between your fingers when you threw it in the trash with a sob. no escaping it, after all.

the hand between your thighs twitches. when he speaks, it shudders through your spine, makes your hair stand on end. it's a growling purr. the low roar of an old engine. more grit than comfort in the midnight dark.

"jus' close your eyes, love," he rasps, pushing his thick body tighter against you. coiling around you like a big, hungry bear. "an' go back to sleep for me."

and you do.

[kirby-the-gorb]

[umbrastaff]

wowww what kind of manners are they teaching over there on the ninth??? smh my head 🙄

[thatneoncrisis]

about the kind-of-sort-of accidental racism in the books: it is so goddamn unfortunate that of the only two middle eastern main characters, one of them exploded and the other burst into flames. plus they’re from a planet where everyone is everyone else’s cousin. tazmuir did a good thing including so many poc in her books but oh my god these things take about 3 seconds to think about

tamsyn has this. really puzzling approach to race. i understand why everyone is kiwi its like crucial to whats going on in the story and johns mindset. and then she goes out of her way to specify everyones exact race in her description post. and its not that this isnt helpful for visualization but its like. this is a society 10000 years in the future. race as its conceived of now wouldnt fucking exist.

how is isaac still chinese after that much time. how are people reproducing with this exact kind of division that allows her to discern that this person is tongan but this person is mixed maori, as if they arent all mixed. it feels so specific that it would be relevant, but it literally just isnt. theyre jsut how she saw the characters, which is one things but they cant. literally be those things anymore. she doesnt find race really relevant to most of her characters which kind of leads to shit that doesnt make sense or is in poor taste. if the houses were divided racially over time and they happened to resemble x group for taz to call them that then cool, that could have interesting implications for how isolated they are. but abigail is white and magnus isnt. isaac is nz chinese and jeannemary isnt. dulcinea is white and pro isnt. i always think about it