#had to make this s7 after all of that ridiculous posturing

[jarienn972]

One of Those Nights

This is a little gift for @killian-whump that will hopefully bring a smile back to her face after dealing with too many Twitter a-holes.  I threw together a little bit of Rogers whump with a side helping of Hooked Queen so for those that aren’t into S7, this isn’t for you so just skip and move on.  Hope you enjoy, @killian-whump

As proprietor of a popular neighborhood bar and general hangout, Roni was no stranger to late nights – or was it early mornings?  I was a rare occasion that she could call it a night much before 3AM and tonight was no exception to said rule.  She’d delivered her nightly last call at 1, then slowly ushered her patrons out so she could lock up at 2.  And now, at 2:30AM, she and Remy had just finished wiping down all of the tables, chairs and bar stools and while he completed his last-minute stocking at the bar, she’d retired to the office to tally the day’s receipts and make sure that Remy had his portion of tonight’s tips in hand before he headed home.

    At 2:40AM, she handed Remy the envelope containing his tips and said goodnight as she let him out the front door, relocked it and returned to her office to finalize the paperwork and shut down her laptop.  It took her less than 10 minutes to finish those routine tasks and as the computer shut down, she reached for the switch to turn off her desk lamp only to be startled by a thud against the rear door.  She nearly dismissed it as accidental (maybe the wind blew something against the door) until the pounding returned – determined, deliberate bangs against the metal door.

    Roni certainly wasn’t expecting any company at this hour and if Remy had returned, he had his own key so the sound of someone banging on her delivery door at nearly 3AM was more than a bit unnerving.  Momentarily ignoring the incessant knocking, she made her way out to the bar to retrieve her trusty baseball bat. While it wasn’t necessarily the best weapon, her bat could prove quite effective against a persistent drunk or vagrant looking for a handout should they make any threatening moves toward her. Now armed with bat in hand, she returned to the rear entrance as the thundering, staccato blows against the metal continued, except this time, she could also hear a voice calling her.

    “Miss Roni? Are you in there?” she heard a woman’s voice ask without taking pause from the assault on the door.

    “Tilly? Is that you?” Roni called back as she recognized the voice on the other side of the door, although she hesitated before unlocking the deadbolt until she got a response.

    “Yes, yes, it’s me!  Please open up!  I really need your help and I didn’t know who else to trust or what to do…”  The fear and anxiety in Tilly’s tone was worrisome so Roni leaned the bat against the wall, unlocked the door and tugged it open to find the bedraggled young woman standing in the alleyway, eyes darting from side to side nervously.

    “Tilly, what are you doing here at this hour?” Roni demanded, not yet noticing the huddled figure at the frightened woman’s feet.

    “I didn’t know who else to trust,” Tilly repeated, “or where else to go and that bastard, Weaver, isn’t answering his phone!”  She was rambling in rapid-fire mode, leaving Roni understandably confused.

    “Tilly – slow down… What do you need help with?”

    “Detective Rogers,” Tilly replied, crouching down to draw Roni’s line of sight toward the black-clad lump that lay at her feet.  “I found him at the other end of the alley…”

    “What?” Roni lowered herself to a knee next to the clearly wounded and probably unconscious form that was Detective Rogers. He was curled on his left side, facing away from Roni atop a damp, flattened cardboard box which apparently was what Tilly had used to transport him to the back door of the bar.  “What happened?”

    Tilly exaggeratedly shook her head.  “I don’t know for sure.  I was out wandering and heard some shouting and a pretty fierce scuffle.  Curiosity got the best of me and by the time I got to the alley, I found the detective on the ground next to his car.  I tried to call Weaver using the detective’s phone, but he wasn’t answering.  I knew you were close so I dragged him over here hoping you might be able to help him somehow…”

    “He’s hurt. Why didn’t you call 911 and get him an ambulance?” Roni wondered, taking note of Rogers’ visible injuries in the dim light of the alley.  His face was bloodied, but she couldn’t tell how badly out here because it was just too dark to see the extent of the cuts and abrasions.

    “I didn’t know who to trust,” Tilly repeated.  “I think he was attacked by another cop…”

    “What?!” Roni didn’t know how to respond to that statement, but if that was why Tilly kept glancing around the alley, she didn’t want to stay out here.  “Okay, help me get him inside and then you can tell me why you think he was attacked by a fellow cop while we try calling his partner again.”  She grasped a corner of Tilly’s makeshift stretcher and with the younger woman’s help, they managed to pull the wounded officer through the doorway and into the relative safety of Roni’s office.  Roni immediately ran back to the door and secured the deadbolt once again before she re-entered the office and switched on the brighter overhead light.

    Being careful not to move him too abruptly, she carefully maneuvered the unconscious detective onto his back and in this light, they now had a much better view of his facial wounds.  A jagged laceration zigzagged across his forehead, starting at his hairline and extending across his temple and another deep cut sliced open the bridge of his nose. There was also a darkening spot above his jaw that would without a doubt be a nasty bruise in the morning.  Rogers stirred slightly at her touch, groaning in obvious discomfort as he drew his arms tighter against his chest and Roni didn’t doubt that he had other injuries hidden beneath layers of clothing.  She wasn’t a doctor though so all she could really do was try to keep her friend comfortable.

    “Can you do me a favor?” she asked Tilly.  “Beneath the bar, there’s a stack of clean towels.  Can you bring me some and while you’re at it, get me one of the ice buckets and fill it up with water?  We’ll see if we can get this bleeding stopped and clean him up a little.”  Tilly nodded in reply, springing to her feet and hurrying out of the office to gather the requested items.

    Not really sure how safe it would be to move him further, Roni decided that it would probably be best just to leave him here on the floor until they could track down some professional help.  She crawled across the narrow office to the battered leather sofa that sat against the wall opposite her desk, retrieving the navy and tan woven throw that she’d used on many of those particularly rough nights where she crashed here on the sofa, unable to muster the energy to venture upstairs to her loft.  She was just about to drape that throw across his legs when Rogers woke with a start, attempting to sit up too quickly and only further aggravating the throbbing inside his head.

    “Easy…” Roni warned, moving swiftly to catch her unsteady friend before he toppled over.  “Not so fast. You’re beat up pretty bad…” Rogers gave her a subtle nod of acknowledgement before losing his balance and falling back against Roni, his head dropping onto her shoulder.  “You probably have a concussion so you really should lie back down.”

    “I’m fine,” he lied, pushing himself back into a sitting position, although the movement markedly slower this time.

    “Okay…,” Roni played along.  Apparently, wounded cops were as obstinate as drunks.  “Think you can make it to the couch in that case?”

    “I think so,” he insisted as Roni stood and extended her hand to help the teetering detective to his feet, then wrapped an arm around his shoulder to lend some support. He had a noticeable limp as he staggered the short distance across the room and as he flopped onto the sofa with a grimace, he spied the blonde head he recognized as Tilly entering the room with a bucket and an armful of towels.

    “Tilly? What are you doing here?” he asked.  “Hell, for that matter, what am I doing here?”

    “She found you out back in the alley,” Roni explained.  “Please lie down and try to relax while we get these cuts cleaned up. Maybe you can tell us what you remember about what happened?”  

    “I’ll try…” he replied as he lowered his head onto the thickly upholstered arm of the sofa.  Tilly knelt beside him and dipped one of the towels into the bucket then squeezed out the excess water before gingerly touching the cloth to the largest cut on his forehead.  “Damn – that hurts…” he bristled, immediately tensing and recoiling from both the chill of the water and the searing pain.

    “Sorry…” Tilly pulled back, having not wanted to cause further injury.  

    “It’ll be okay, Tilly,” Roni assured her.  “He’s going to feel some discomfort, but we need to get some pressure on that cut to slow the bleeding.  It’s pretty deep and will almost certainly need stitches.  I’ve got a first aid kit around here somewhere…” She couldn’t remember if she had one here in the office so she excused herself for a moment to retrieve the one behind the bar, then dug through it to find some butterfly strips that would be good for holding the torn skin together until they could be sutured. “Do you know who did this to you?” she asked him as they attempted to bandage the worst of his cuts.

    “I’m not really certain…” Rogers admitted. “I remember getting a call about that cult symbol showing up in the neighborhood, but I didn’t find anything.  Maybe the rain earlier tonight washed the evidence away, but as I was returning to my car, I saw a shadow that looked like someone hiding behind the dumpster.  I shouted at whomever it was to come out, but instead, someone attacked me from behind, knocking me down.  I looked up to see who or what was there, but all I saw was something swinging toward my head and then, I felt the strike and everything went black.  I’m fairly certain that wasn’t the only blow they got in based on all of the parts of my body that ache right now.”

    “So, you never saw the person who hit you or the person behind the dumpster?” Roni asked.

    “’Fraid not,” he replied, squeezing his eyes closed as he fought through the pain, trying hard to remain conscious even though he knew he was losing that battle.

    “Tilly thinks you might have been attacked by another cop.” Roni stated, trying to gauge his reaction.

    “Another cop?” he questioned, confused but not showing signs that the possibility was a surprise.

    “I saw someone drive away in an unmarked police car,” Tilly said. “I know we’re not supposed to know they’re police cars, but it’s really pretty obvious if you pay attention like I do…”

    “Would you know the car if you saw it again?” Roni asked her, knowing that it would have been Rogers’ next question if he hadn’t already drifted into the pain-free oblivion.

    “Of course, I would,” Tilly assured her. “I don’t forget things.”

    “Okay, stay here with Detective Rogers.  I’m going to try calling his partner again,” Roni stated as she retreated into the storeroom, dialing Weaver’s number on her cell phone and hearing his voicemail message.  “Weaver, it’s Roni.  Get your ass over to my bar as soon as possible.  Someone beat up your partner and he’s here, unconscious in my office. I did what I could, but no one is sure who to trust and that includes yourself.  Maybe you can enlighten us as to what the hell is going on?”

    She disconnected the call and waited a few moments in the storeroom until her phone vibrated with a text message notification that read simply: Be there in 10.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Riven x Musa

Ok, so I keep seeing posts everywhere that basically badmouth S8 and after seeing ten seconds of the trailer (YIKES to the animation, what’s wrong with the industry that they are making everything anime? Powerpuff Gen Z, I’m looking at you – obs: I didn’t watch it fully yet) I can see where some of the criticism is coming from but anyways…

My favorite Winx!couple EVER has always been Musa x Riven since I was kid and first watched the show (Netflix is not helping ‘cause I ship them even there).

I remember yawning at Bloom/Sky, rolling my eyes at Stella/Brandom and making a completely incredulous expression that I could literally feel forming on my face at Helia/Flora (can anyone say ‘unrealistic’?). Timmy/Tecna are a second favorite.

And why my Winx OTP are Riven x Musa followed after Timmy x Tecna? Because it reflects real life. In real life you’re not gonna stumble into people whose real and deep relationship problems are solved in twenty four minutes (not even that considering that some episodes present the “problem” half-way through said 24 minute-episode).

The breakup between Riven and Musa in S6 (spoilers everywhere after all) was one of the most mature breakups in the history of breakups with the hope for the future (yes, I’m completely ignoring S7, sue me, the whole thing was one huge filler anyways). And, after reading a lot of opinions on both ends (defending Musa/attacking Riven and defending Riven/attacking Musa) and watching the episodes in question (reuniting through reconciling) I think I can give my own analysis.

Since Musa AND Riven (individually and as couple) are my favorite characters in Winx, I think I CAN give a fairly unbiased view (hopefully).

*clears throat*

Ok, keep in mind that I’m defending BOTH of them, because I ship them too hard not to.

Musa Being OC (sometimes being called ‘brat’): C'mon, people! Musa and Tecna are OC since S4 anyways, where are the tomboy and the nerd? With the sneakers, T-shirt and comfortable-looking clothes? Noooo, now they all need neat skirts and hot pink high heels and long, glamorous hair. Do they look good? Of course, but and I would totally be less pissed if there was ANY indication on the reason for the change. Are they just maturing? Expressing themselves differently? Crowd mentality? Tune and Stella finally broke Musa down and Tecna followed soon after? Was it just to please Riven and Timmy? ANYTHING (even the 'pleasing a boy’ would at least be A reason - a ridiculous one that would piss me off, but A reason none the less), was just a sudden impulse that took?

Sure, we can talk about “character growth” until we are blue in the face, but the matter of the fact is that there was none.

The changes we see in Musa and Tecna are basically the creators making them more like the rest of the Winx (I’m including Aisha in this too, where is the sporty girl that matched the boy’s interest in extreme sports? C'mon! Even Bloom and her Girl Next Door looks are replaced with Bratz and Clueless-level of outfits).

Is anyone really going to look me in the eye and say Stella wasn’t a shallow (if friendly and good-natured) Mean Girl? She got better, but as I re-watch the show (currently in S3, meaning almost half-way through the content), Stella still worries more about her hair than anything else even while under literal fire.

More and more, Musa, Tecna and Aisha are losing their identities and what made them, IMO, the more badass Winx.

How did the two on the left went from this…

… to this:

Yeah, yeah, Musa still sings, Tecna still technobabble and Aisha is still a Warrior Princess but Aisha was the first one to go Bloom and Stella on us with Musa and then Tecna following soon after. It’s not just their clothing style, it’s the way they carried themselves too.

Right now? The only thing keeping them apart is their BF blues (different kind of blues) and some personal interests (singing, shopping, tech, the whole drama with Domino/Sparks, etc). But that’s IT, their personalities are going down the drain!

Sorry for the long-winded text, but the reason I’m expressing my disappointment at their change is because Musa’s reaction fits it. S6 we have such an AMAZING breakup (didn’t even think that was possible, WTH, right? Amazing breakup?) only for her to be mad as hell at Riven at S8? Bad writing, that has been dragging her (and the rest of the Winx) down to becoming just one unilateral, shallow character (the Specialists are also falling into that pit, what in the world did they do Helia in S8? He sounds like Thor telling about his “brave exploits” there, yikes). And continuity what? What continuity? Do they even remember how the breakup was written?

But ok, let’s put the Audience View aside for a moment and focus only on the In-Universe terms.

S6: You’ll always be my hero.

S8: What on EARTH are you doing here. 

I laughed a bit, the contrast just got to me but instead of getting mad at one or the other like most of the fandom, I laughed.

Musa followed that by saying that Riven has not maintained contact and just in that I would be beyond pissed as well and giving my support to Musa. WTH, Riven? I think that each season is more less six months to a year? Sort of? Still, zero contact for so long even after ending on amicable terms and wanting to stay friends? And he went off on his own! A text now going, “I’m not dead” would be the bare basics for Musa not to worry herself bald!

BUT then I also read comments about how this was a two-way street, why didn’t Musa call either? That’s unfortunately something that I very much doubt will ever be explained. One of those: did it or didn’t it? Musa could have called and went straight to voicemail with no signs of life from Riven or she might not have called and just expected him to call as if feminism were dead and all initiative must come from the guy (which doesn’t even fit because they parted as friends).

Since we have no info on the above, I put it on both of them. It’s not fair to say, “HE should have called!” or “Why didn’t SHE call?” because we don’t have fricking context. So the only thing we can take is: no contact.

BECAUSE I put the lack of contact on both of them, Musa’s reaction was a little too much, however, Riven shows up all smirks and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and I would have flashbacks to S1 if it wasn’t for the animation style that made all the guys look like girls. Dude! Not the time for that kind of posture. Not saying that he should be all sheepish and rubbing his arm as if he had done something horrible (again: we don’t have context on the no contact) but a more neutral approach was warranted here. Nobody does themselves any favors with that kind of attitude no matter what how high of a horse they may be (rightly or not) riding on, if anything I would react like Musa solely on that one.

Next episode we have that Riven convinced the guys to follow the girls in some mission and Musa was angry. Again: I would be too. WTH? Yes, yes, they helped and if it wasn’t for them, the Winx would gotten seriously injured but Musa did have a point saying that this demonstrated that they had no trust in them and need their hand held, it was no sanctioned mission like on Earth after all. BUT, Riven does something that I would never expect from in S1-4: he explains, he reasons it, he puts it in all the words that he does trust Musa and co and that he only wanted to show that he’d be there for her (you know? One of the main issues in S6 that made them breakup in the first place? His inability to conciliate Specialist work with supporting his girlfriend and ultimately failing or feeling like failing in both?) and Musa still pouts, crosses her arms, and turns around. Geez. I expected that one from Stella, not Musa. I think the closest Musa has ever come to THIS was back in S2 when Jared explains that Riven was the one to recommend that he interview Musa and yada yada yada and she got mad and stomped off on the poor guy that didn’t even understand what was going on (only to immediately apologize to Jared and recognizing that it wasn’t him that she was mad at… like I said: what character growth?).

Riven then goes to show that he indeed grew when he asked for advice from Sky and Brandon (WTH, right? Can we picture that happening back in S1-3? He very grudgingly would LISTEN to UNSOLICITED advice from Nabu and Helia in S4-6). And does a very, very goofy and embarrassing show of affection. Yeah… again… I can picture Stella loving the light show with her face for IDK how many people to see but not Musa (although can we really blame the guy after the series went out of its way to make Musa all Stella-like? Clothes, attitude, the only thing missing is making Riven carry her shopping bags around and call him “Shnookums” (although the mental image is already enough for me to fall over laughing, just for the face Riven would make). Still, I have to count that one against Riven if only because (as much as the show gives only lip service to it) Musa isn’t Stella.

Riven being mind controlled (again) aside, those two are back together. And on the overall? Riven showed more growth than any other character in the show COMBINED (he is the Zuko of the show), that doesn’t go to say that he didn’t make mistakes since coming back in S8 (but that was more a guy trying to win back a girl than… betraying his friends for a pair of nice legs or… IDEK like in S1 – where, mind control or not the show itself made sure to make it clear that he had free will) or that he is now the one out of Musa’s league. I think that NOW it can actually work… if the show allows him to keep the progress, Musa is the next to see her flaws and work on them (which she showed to be able to do since S2) and put effort in the relationship. The difference between them is that Musa can actually work on herself and the relationship at the same time. That’s not me saying she is better than Riven in any way, everybody has their own pace and their own way to cope, to improve and to self-reflect.

I still root for them.

~*~

PS-IDK why, but I read posts about how Riven changed so much and posts about how all his progress disappeared and he is now back to his S1 attitude and I’m just cofused. Yeah, different of opinions and so on, but such opposite opinions on the subject of a guy whose relationship was focused on three episodes? 

[gaycrouton]

Since you already told me you have an idea for this, I need to read the “Mulder accidentally takes Viagra and Dr. Scully needs to help” fic pretty please! The hotter the better of course.

HEY BOO! Guess who finally got around to finishing it! I’ve had this idea for so long it’s ridiculous, and not to toot my own horn…but it’s really hot. It ended up being super long so I’m going to split it up in two parts while the latter half is in beta. Part two will probably be up in the next few days!

As always, thank you to @admiralty-xfd for her beta and her endless support.

Clinical Detatchment

msr / s7 / UST to RST

To say this case had been stressful would be a colossal understatement. They’d been clashing with the police department since they got here; they were flagrantly sexist and rude to Scully and they thought Mulder was insane and, in their words, ‘a pussy’ for listening to her. To top it all off, after a week of intensive searching, the case ended with the police burning down the barn that the ‘creature’ they’d been looking for had been lurking in resulting in a pile of ashes and some unidentifiable bones, much to Mulder’s irritation.

She couldn’t even take joy in the fact that the case was over. After the barn burning, they had to go to the police station to give a final statement and, aside from being offered coffee which Mulder had all but devoured, the police were outright disrespectful. Not that Mulder wasn’t acting similarly to them, after he’d downed the drink he’d talked separately with the officers before storming out of the office, telling her they “were leaving, now.”

She didn’t know what they’d said to him that’d offended him to this point, but she knew something was off.

Now she was at the shitty restaurant attached to their motel, sitting across from Mulder who seemed to be in one of his moods. As soon as they’d gotten there he’d stormed ahead of her, not bothering to hold the door open or even see if she was following him. It wouldn’t be strange if it weren’t for his usual tendencies to be a gentleman, but now it just seemed passive aggressive. All in all, a shitty day.

He’d been quiet since they left and when she asked him anything he’d just give her short answers. For some reason it felt like he couldn’t even look at her. She could only take so much before she called him out. “Mulder, have I done something to piss you off?”

He stopped playing with his glass of water and looked at her timidly before looking away, pretending to find interest in the food that remained practically untouched in front of him. “No,” he muttered.

“Are you sure?” she asked, impatience coming through despite herself.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

She let out an irritated sigh and slouched into her seat. Her movement resulted in her leg grazing Mulder’s and it caused him to jump away from her like she’d burned him. “Are you kidding me?” she snapped.

“I’m-”

“Mulder, I’ve had to deal with people treating me like shit this entire case. I really don’t need it from you too,” she lamented.

Finally he looked at her and she started to feel a little guilty for lashing out. In this moment, looking at him face to face, she realized he looked ill. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were glassy, and she could see sweat gathering on his brow. “Scully, I’m sorry. I’m not mad. I don’t mean to be short, I just- I don’t feel good.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snapped. I didn’t realize you were sick,” she apologized.

“I think just the stress of the case finally caught up to me,” he shrugged.

She slid out of her side of the booth and moved to sit next to him. “I-I’m sure I’m fine though, Scully,” he stammered, sliding away from her.

“Mulder, you don’t look fine,” she admonished, reaching for his face. She put the back of her hands on his cheeks and forehead and frowned when she felt how hot he was. “You’re burning up.”

He swerved his head, effectively moving out of her hands, and hunched over. “It’s probably just a passing bug, Scully. I promise I’m fine,” he rambled. 

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. This wasn’t like Mulder to be so unreceptive to her medical attention. She gave him another once over and realized how abnormal his posture was. “Mulder, why are you sitting like that?”

“Scully,” he stated firmly. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine then sit up,” she countered.

“I don’t want to,” he whined with near exasperation. 

He looked like he was grabbing his sides while curling in on himself.

“Do you have pain in your abdomen?” she asked. Appendicitis? Stomach flu? Hernia? IBS?

“No,” he muttered childishly, avoiding eye contact.

“How long have you been feeling ill?”

“Please, drop it,” he pled.

Suddenly, testing him, she reached out and grabbed the arm nearest to her, pulling it away from his body. He let out a hissing sound between clenched teeth, his whole body lurching before he moved away from her. “Mulder, you’re obviously in pain. Stop trying to hide it.”

“Scully, please leave me alone,” he begged. “And please stop touching me so much.”

The intensity of his request hurt her feelings, but she tried her best to keep it from showing. Part of her thought about giving up and meeting him with equal stubbornness, but it’d felt like they’d been getting closer as of late and the harsh rejection stung more than she wished it had. “Why won’t you let me help you?” she asked softly.

He must’ve heard the hurt despite her efforts and he turned to look at her. When he did this, she noticed his eyes were unnaturally dilated and her concern grew even more. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he pressed.

She might’ve given up, but this case had been taxing on them both and she knew he had a tendency to forgo taking care of himself in the midst of a stressful investigation. “Mulder,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing at him again. “Please just let me give you a quick examination to see if anything’s alarming.” She put her hand on his thigh and he gasped ‘fuck’ before grabbing her wrist harshly, causing her to let out a little gasp of surprise.

He winced and was silent a moment before whispering, “It’s embarrassing.”

“What is?” she asked.

With some strain, he sat up straight and let go of her wrist, taking the other off his lap to reveal an impressive erection straining against his dress pants, tenting the material away from his lap. He gestured to it in aggravation as if it needed any sort of introduction.

She looked at it, he looked at it, he looked at her, she kept looking at it. 

“Oh,” she squeaked, removing her hand from his thigh but not leaving that side of the booth.

“I-” he mumbled,  covering up again as she struggled to tear her gaze away.

She interrupted him with a raised hand. “It’s fine, Mulder. I know it happens. It doesn’t bother me. I’m sorry I embarrassed you-you shouldn’t be embarrassed,” she rushed, her sentences choppy in her own mortification at bringing attention to it. 

She wasn’t lying - she knew it happened quite frequently, just never to this extent. Usually he adjusted it, calmed down, or left the room by the time the slight hardening in his pants turned into anything that he’d think she noticed. She figured Mulder thought he was being discreet, or maybe he assumed she never glanced at that area of his body, but she noticed enough to know that Mulder was a very healthy man.

It sometimes became a game to her: determining what the cause of any given erection was. Sometimes she thought it happened when the wind blew too hard, it seemed to happen so easily. But slowly, this time, she realized she seemingly had a role in it. All too often it seemed he needed to readjust or take a deep breath or leave immediately following something she’d done. Like a cause and effect but the causes were things she thought were mundane, like standing near him, smiling, laughing, touching, sometimes just looking at him. 

She’d just never called him out on it.

“No, Sc-wait. What do you mean you know it happens?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“I just-it’s a natural bodily occurrence,” she explained, subverting her true meaning.

They locked eyes for a moment, both fully aware she wasn’t convincing enough, but luckily he chose to move on. “They, um, they slipped me something,” he mumbled.

He shifted in his seat and her gaze flitted down to the area in question, a glance that didn’t go unnoticed by Mulder who started unconsciously bending forward again to hide himself. Feeling a surge of embarrassment for her unabashed ogling, she cleared her throat and registered his words. “Wait, who slipped you what?”

“Sheriff Flannery and his merry band of misfits, they said they gave me viagra,” he murmured the last part so softly that she’d barely heard him.

For a moment she was sure she’d heard him wrong, but he was wearing his earnestness on his face and she knew he was telling the truth.“Why on earth would they do that? Not to mention the fact that’s extremely illegal,” she balked.

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “They said it was so I could ‘man up’,” he admitted. She was about to make a comment about how ridiculous that was, but he spoke up before she could. “Apparently they had some viagra in the back from some guy who retired, yadda yadda yadda, but they slipped it into my coffee while we were in the hallway talking.” 

As he said this, she unconsciously licked her lips and his gaze flickered to the motion immediately before his eyes shot back to the opposite side of the booth while his nostrils flared and he shifted his hips. It was a motion she found undeniably attractive.

“How much did they give you?” she asked, her attention snapping back to the matter at hand.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“How long have you been erect?” she asked, cringing and looking around when she realized her volume.

Mulder did a look around as well and sighed in relief when no one was eavesdropping on them. “Um, I don’t know, maybe two hours.”

“Have you tried…” she made an odd gesture with her lap with her hands as he stared at her with raised eyebrows.

“Did it look like I tried the past two hours we’ve been together?” he asked sarcastically before immediately apologizing. “I’m sorry, this is just the icing on a shit day.”

“It worries me that we don’t know the dosage,” she confided, stopping altogether when the waitress came by to take their plates and drop off the check. Neither of them missed the skeptical once over she gave them for being huddled together on the same side of the booth like teenagers.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Scully resumed, “I’m worried they gave you too much.”

“I’m sure it’ll go away when we get back to the motel room.” Catching himself, he clarified, “When I get back to my motel room. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Unless it doesn’t go away in the next two hours,” she added, getting out her wallet and laying cash down on the table for the bill and the tip.

“W-what do you mean?” he croaked.

She looked at him with a skeptical brow as if to say ‘you don’t know’ to which his visible gulp replied ‘oh god what?’

“Do you know why Viagra commercials warn against erections lasting longer than four hours?” she asked, stuffing her wallet back into her purse.

“Lightheadedness…” he answered with timidity that told her he knew his answer would be wrong.

“No, do you know what priapism is?” she asked.

“No,” he admitted.

“There are different types, and I won’t go into full detail, but in bad cases the blood trapped in the penis is deprived of oxygen. Erections that last too long can cause the oxygen-poor blood to begin to damage or destroy tissues in the penis,” she explained.

“Destroy?” he repeated.

“Some untreated priapisms can cause erectile dysfunction.”

She might as well have told him he had two hours to live with the look of panic that came across his face. “W-what do I need to do?” he stammered.

“Let’s go back to your room so we can assess the situation,” she stated, trying to sound calm. 

She slid out of the booth, but as she was about to walk away, she felt a hand grab her wrist. “Wait,” he whispered.

She turned and saw him scooting closer to the edge of, but not coming out of, the seat. He glanced around before looking at her nervously. “There are people here,” he told her in a low voice.

She looked around and saw the once empty restaurant was bustling with customers. “But we have to go, Mulder,” she whispered back, not wanting to cause him further embarrassment but not seeing a wormhole for him to crawl into opening up anytime soon.

“Can you walk right in front of me to hide it?” he asked. Mulder usually didn’t care what people thought of him, but he did care when across the room was a children’s birthday party. 

With a sigh of resignation, she nodded and turned around in place as he stood up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her in front of him. There was space between them, but barely. They were both walking as briskly as they could, but she could feel the warmth of him radiating on her back.

Then, unexpectedly, a waitress passed in front of Scully’s path with a quick “Sorry, coming through,” and the motion caused Scully to stop in her tracks. Which, of course, resulted in Mulder crashing into her and jabbing his hard on straight into her back. She gasped and he squeezed her shoulders tightly and  let out a soft, strangled moan, causing a few patrons to abandon their food to glance up at the pair.

“I’m sorry,” Scully whispered breathlessly. Whether to the interrupted customers having to witness their misfortune, or to Mulder for stopping so suddenly, she wasn’t sure. All she knew as she continued moving forward was that Mulder’s cock had just touched her. It wasn’t skin against skin, wasn’t intimate in any real sense, but her partner’s penis had touched her and it was hot, hard, and he moaned. 

And fuck if it didn’t turn her on.

As soon as they were out of the eyeline of the prying customers and halfway across the gravel parking lot to their rooms, she took a quick step forward, consequently freeing herself from his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder lamented immediately. Truth be told, she didn’t need to be so dramatic with her movement, but she’d rather have him think she was frustrated with him than realize she was getting flustered. But she regretted her action at the absolute guilt that was evident in his tone.

She turned to look over at him and took pity on the sight of a dejected Mulder crossing his hands in front of his pants. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull away so abruptly. Let’s just get to your room.”

She stood by his side and didn’t say anything more as Mulder unlocked the door and let her in. They’d only been there a few days, but Mulder had sprawled all his stuff about and made himself at home. She heard the lock snick behind her, and putting on an air of complete professionalism, she turned around and faced him. “Okay, let’s take a look.”

He still hadn’t moved more than a foot from the door, the only signs of life were the widening of his eyes and his stammering. “I-I don’t, I can’t-”.

Well, if he was going to be like that. “One of the methods of curing a priapism is to make an incision-”

“Scull-ee,” he whined, his brows furrowing in distress.

“Mulder, I saw more penises in med school than the actresses in all your tapes combined,” she deadpanned.

“But this is different,” he explained, not elaborating beyond that.

He was right. It was different. She’d seen it before, but it was usually a brief glimpse in the midst of dressing  him because of another injury, never was it the main focus of an examination. That, plus the issue that it would be erect and she’d most likely have to come in contact with it for a full examination.

Letting out a long sigh and cursing the fact that nothing in their lives could be easy, she ran her hands over her face and offered, “You’re right. You’re right. Um, how about you go into the bathroom and take a look. Let me know if anything looks abnormal.”

He seemed relieved at that prospect and did as directed, making his way to the bathroom and quickly shutting the door as if to get out of her line of sight. She listened from the other side of the door as the teeth of his zipper came apart and his pants dropped down to the floor. He coughed nervously and called out, “Okay, uh, it’s-it’s out,” he stammered.

There were a few moments in her life, specifically since her time with him, where she couldn’t help but be shocked at where she’d ended up. This was one of those moments.

“How does it look?” she asked.

“Um,” he paused. “Normal?”

“Does it look different than when you’re usually erect?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean?” he called out.

“Is it swollen or red?” she explained, images from med school textbooks dancing around in her head. 

There was a pause and she realized he was misinterpreting her. With a sigh, she added, “More so than normal?”

“N-no, I think it looks normal, but I’ve never had one for this long and it kinda aches,” he explained. She frowned, she didn’t know what to do when half of that information was comforting and the other half was cause for concern. 

“This isn’t working,” she called out. In what world could a doctor assess a patient with a blindfold on? Rarely were patient assessments ever accurate in the first place, let alone when they were in distress. 

“Do you have to?” he sighed in acquiescence.

“Mulder, just let me look. I just want to help,” she reassured, trying to take a gentler approach.

She heard some more sounds of fabric rustling and realised he was stepping out of his pants and shoes. Soon enough, she heard the door unlock and saw a tuft of brown hair and hazel eyes peer from the side of the door. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he joked lamely, trying to lighten the mood and his own discomfort.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a small smirk. “If I ever need an emergency medical exam, I’ll make sure you’re the first person I call.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked, taking a step out and revealing he’d also removed his dress shirt, leaving him in his t-shirt shirt and boxers as he continued to cover himself with a hand towel.

She took a few steps towards him to meet him halfway and the room became tense again, neither of them speaking for a moment as the awkwardness overtook them. “I promise to be clinically detached,” she blurted out. “I know this is uncomfortable, but as soon as it’s taken care of, I promise we can pretend this never happened.”

He let out a long, reluctant sigh and nodded, “Okay. Thank you.”

“Sit on the bed,” she commanded.

He teased her about her bedside manner, but they walked back into the bedroom and he did as she asked anyway. He only started making a fuss again when she began to get closer.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, scooting away from her as she started easing herself down on her knees in front of him.

“I’m looking, Mulder…” she trailed off. Surely he didn’t think she was going to…

“I-but-can you,” he stammered never fully forming a single one of the thousand thoughts swirling behind his eyes right now.

“Mulder, are you genuinely confused or just stammering? I don’t mean to be blunt, but in this situation, the difference matters,” she sighed, righting herself to look at him. Faltering memory. Confusion. Slurred or stammered speech.

“Scully, this is embarrassing,” he whined, so pathetically that her heart went out to him.

But time was of the essence, and they were running out of it. “Fine,” she stated sternly, pretending to grab her bag. “We’ll just have to go to the hospital then.”

“No!” he called out, and if she identified the sound correctly, he even stamped a foot.

She turned around to face him again and demanded. “You’re going to have to be honest with me or we will be going, okay?”

He was giving her puppy dog eyes right now and she had to bite back a smile at the juxtaposition. He looked like a kicked dog, yet was sporting a massive erection. Mulder pulled her out of her thought process by his mumbling something, but doing it under his breath so that she couldn’t hear. “What was that?”

“I don’t want to accidentally come in front of you… or on you,” he muttered. 

This is my life. My partner just said those words out loud to me. She was at such a loss for words that he took it as her not understanding. “I just-I’m afraid seeing you, um, like that-” On your knees.

She held up her hand to stop him from saying anymore. “Lay back and close your eyes or look at the ceiling.” He nodded and lowered himself slowly onto his back, letting out a tense sigh. She wished she had those hanging mobiles like they do at the OBGYN, but he instead just raised his forearms to cover his eyes and she took that as a sign she was good to go. 

Without his prying eyes on her, she mouthed a silent fuck to herself as she lowered herself on her knees and in between his legs, giving her a better vantage point to see. The hand towel didn’t do much to cover, but it was enough for her to be nervous about removing it entirely.  No going back now.

She cleared her throat and decided to be as Dr. Scully as she possibly could. “I’m going to remove the towel.” 

There were no words of affirmation or recognition, but she knew he heard. He was probably just trying to mentally dig a hole to crawl into. With her index finger and thumb, she grabbed the corner of the towel and lifted it off, setting it down gently at his side. Her thoughts were as follows:

Mulder is hung.

How does he walk around with this?

It’s amazing how humble he is for how cocky he easily could be.

My face is a few inches from Mulder’s leaking cock.

“Does it look like a pr-prasi-”

“A priapism,” she clarified. She looked at the pink swollen phallus and didn’t immediately see any of the usual red flags. “No visual indicators.” Dr. Scully left for a moment as Flustered Dana mentally screamed, but she stifled her hesitation and confidently said, “Is it alright if I touch it for a physical exam?”

He was silent and, unlike last time, she couldn’t continue without his permission. She sat there, his penis hard as a rock in front of her face, as he contemplated his fate. Then, she heard a softly muttered, “Okay.”

Being as delicate as she could, she scooted closer, her forearm grazing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He jumped like she’d shocked him and she breathed out an apology and continued to lift her hands, gently grabbing the shaft with the tips of her fingers. 

She ducked her head slightly to look at the scrotum and noticed nothing looked out of the ordinary. Just perfectly dropped, engorged, healthy balls. She righted herself and tested the skin’s give by tugging down lightly with her fingers on his shaft, dragging the skin down and revealing more of  his head, and she was relieved to see there was some movement. So he’s not swollen to the point of danger. 

As she conducted her test he took a sharp, shaky inhalation between clenched teeth. Risking a glance over to him, she saw his arms still firmly planted against his face, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “Um-” she spoke, not even sure what she was about to say, just wanting to break the silence. “Does being touched hurt?” she asked, settling on a perfectly analytical question.

She saw him swallow thickly before answering in a husky voice that shot straight to her core, “No.” 

He didn’t offer any more information and she figured he was trying to spare his pride. Using her fingers as delicately as she could, she moved it around from side to side just to check mobility, but her motion apparently wasn’t as delicate as she’d intended. He lurched away from her, his erection going out of her grasp and bobbing violently in the air at his harsh jerk. “Okay, that was a little rough, Scully.”

“Sorry,” she exhaled before taking the cloth and covering him. At the unexpected sensation, he concaved his hips into the bed and released his arms to look down at her before immediately subverting his eyes. 

Using his knees as leverage, she stood up and cleared her throat, taking in the sight of Mulder actually blushing and wishing it wasn’t such an uncomfortable situation. 

His attention was drawn by her near-declarative cough and he glanced back at her as he eased himself up on his elbows. Now it was her turn to look away. There was something incredibly sexy about a casually reclined Mulder with an erection while she apparently possessed the ability to arouse him.

“It doesn’t look dangerous right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods yet. I want you to, um, take care of it and then tell me if the swelling starts to go down,” she explained.

“What happens if I can’t?” he asked nervously.

“I thought you were well versed in that arena,” she teased before seeing the look of panic in his eyes. “Mulder, I’m sure this will all blow over. People snort cocaine and have had two hour long erections like this and they live. Let’s focus on the positive. If you can’t, we can always go to the hospital,” she comforted. Correction- she tried to comfort. She said the H word again and she could see the worry brewing in his eyes.

“Don’t think about it, just think about - whatever it is you normally think about,” she stammered, moving towards the adjoining door. “I’ll be next door if you need me.” Then, at his raised brows, she added, “If you have a medical question or um, you know.” Putting herself out of her misery, she walked into her room and shut the door.

[thestarmaptoyou]

I’m actually, finally slogging my way through s7---wait, no. I take that back.

I’ve finally put s7 on in the background while I write, I’ve got about three episodes left, and honestly? It’s such a shit show.

While I was in my shower today, I literally started fantasizing about all the scenes I would change to make things better. I just meant to do a bullet list of them, but then I got carried away and wrote out the two that were standing out the most (right now) in my head. This got longer than I anticipated (oh well).

First, this should have been there from the get-go, but make Hunk a girl. We get one (1) beefy lady in the show, and she’s on the “bad” side. Keep everything about Hunk the same (except far less food jokes.... please), but now a girl. This takes away from Pidge feeling like the “token” female Paladin, which is ridiculous anyway. This also makes her “reveal” in s1 less about being a girl and more about... well...

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you guys,” Pidge said, not meeting any of their eyes. “I’m... not really a boy.”

Keith’s eyebrows went up, but he seemed utterly unsurprised by this statement. “So? Hunk’s not a boy, either.”

“Yeah,” Hunk said, beaming and flexing one arm. “There’s nothing wrong at all with being a girl. Where would you all be without the stability and homeyness I bring to the team?”

Finally, Pidge looked up and looked at them, face screwed up with a tangle of emotions. “I---I don’t think I’m a girl, either.”

Coran and Allura exchanged a glance. The princess turned a knowing look back to Pidge, mouth tugging up on one side in a smile. “You know, the universe isn’t a binary place; it’s not just one or the other. Why, the Zubluan species alone has five sexes and at least seventeen genders, and if you told the people of Ansoii that they had to choose only one gender to be, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t get invited to any of their parties.” At the confused looks, she added with a shrug, “The Ansoii fluctuate their genders based on personal and partner preferences.”

“But,” Pidge objected, bringing all their attentions back, “I’m not a Zubluan or an Ansoii. I don’t... I’m not sure what I am.”

“Well, I do.”

Surprised, Pidge whirled to look at Lance, leaning his hip against the table and with his arms folded across his chest.

Shiro cleared his throat to indicate they were all waiting for him to continue. “You’re Pidge, Paladin of the Green Lion,” Lance explained.

“Lance is right,” Shiro said, his face softening into a small smile. “You’re a part of this team, regardless of anything else, and we wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.”

“That’s right,” Coran agreed. “Voltron wouldn’t be able to be formed without you.”

Hunk rolled her eyes. “I mean, that’s important and all, but it goes even beyond that. We’ve traveled who knows how many lightyears away from Earth together. That’s saying something.” She closed the distance between herself and Pidge and swept the smaller Paladin up into a bear hug. “Family is family, no matter what, and we’re all family.”

Which then connects with Keith having his little “pep talk” or whatever with hunk in s7, where we get to see some more about Hunk’s family:

“Damn it!” Hunk hissed as engine lubricant splashed onto her face. She closed her eyes just in time to protect them, then patted around for a cloth. She should have been paying more attention to what bolt she was loosening, not lost in worry over her mama.

When they’d finally reached the Garrison, there’d been an impromptu reunion with the Paladins and their families. Pidge’s was missing Matt, of course, but it seemed like an entire branch of Lance’s had come out. Even Shiro’s parents and aunt were there. It seemed like everyone who had family on earth still had theirs all intact as it was when they left. But, only Hunk’s mom and dad had shown up. Her uncle and his two kids were missing, as was her mama. Her mom had told Hunk that Galra troops swept through every city, and while she’d pleaded with her wife to join them, Sefina had run off to help try and hide some others as soon as she and their husband were securely in the Resistance’s rover. The strapped in two of Hunk’s parents had tried to unbuckle themselves to go after Sefina, but the rover had to go or risk everyone on it being captured.

“Is everything okay in here?” Keith’s voice came from behind her, dragging her out of her thoughts.

She wiped off her face and glanced back. He was standing in the door frame, leaning against it with what she assumed he thought was nonchalance, though it seemed to be more awkward than anything else.

“Yeah,” Hunk said, though her voice sounded about as unconvincing as Keith’s posture.

“Look,” Keith went on, and Hunk knew that he saw through her as well. “I’m not really good at talking with people, and I don’t expect you to open up to me, but...” he paused. “If there’s ever anything on your mind...”

That was all Hunk needed. Keith tended to forget from time to time that others don’t try and bottle everything up like he did. “This situation stinks!” she said, bunching up the soiled cloth in one hand, then slamming it down on the workbench before her. “I can’t believe we finally get back to Earth and it’s taken over by Galra.”

She glared at Keith, then turned her back to him.

“I... guess there is something on your mind, then,” he said, subdued. The sound of his boots against the floor warned her he was joining her at the workbench.

Hunk leaned against the solidness of the bench. Though the engine part she’d been tinkering with to try and occupy her mind was before her, she didn’t really see it as she stared down at it. “I... I know it seems silly, but I used to daydream about coming home to a peaceful Earth. But there are so many people dead and gone, so many people still missing, so many people captured by the Galra---”

She gritted her teeth for a moment, fighting to not let anxiety overcome her. Keith remained quiet all the while, waiting for her to go on. When it passed, she continued. “And, I---I’m happy Pidge and Lance got to see their families again, I really am, but the rest of mine is still out there, and there has to be something I can do to get them back.”

“Hey,” Keith said, as gently as she’s ever heard him say anything, and it caught her attention. She looked up, only to find he wasn’t looking at her anymore.

“I... I don’t think I’ve ever said this, but... of all the Paladins... you’re the one I’ve admired the most since we, well, since we became Paladins. You’ve always just...” He fumbled a bit here, as if searching for the right words to convey what he was trying to say to her. “You’ve always kept us really together. Even when we’ve all been real jerks to one another, you never...” Keith shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “What you said about us being a family, all that time ago, you really meant it. Mean it. You know how to make people feel like they’re really part of a family, and I... That really means a lot.”

He gathered himself a bit with a breath, then lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Hunk, you’ll find the rest of your family.” There was a confidence in his voice that weaseled its way through her fears. “Of everyone I know, I believe the most that you’ll be able to bring your family back together again. It’s just... what you do.” He gave her a shrug and an awkward smile.

Tears stung at the corners of Hunk’s eyes, and her mouth split into a watery smile. Of all the people she knew, she hadn’t expected Keith to be the one to not only try and cheer her up, but admit he... admired her. Instead of saying anything, she swept up Keith in a tight hug. He remained stiff for a moment, then relaxed, but didn’t return the hug. She didn’t mind.

“Thanks,” she said.

“No problem.”

[rhinozilla]

Daryl and rick get into a huge argument over something really childish and they fight all day and the rest if TF basically laughs their asses of but gets them to make up at the end of the say. Set in s7 at the hilltop? Only bromance

Oneday. One day was all that they had agreed on. One day to decompress, get somerest, and gather themselves for the conflict that was on the horizon. One dayto just enjoy being back together, within arms’ reach of each other, especiallyafter how emotionally draining the previous day had been.

“Fuckhim.”

Onegoddamn day was too much to ask for.

Rositasnorted, sitting with her legs crossed on one end of the couch in their Hilltoptrailer. Daryl was grumbling, sitting on the floor directly in front of her.Rick had stomped out to take a walk to cool off, but he had gone alone. Everybodyelse had remained in the trailer.

Afterthe unknown Hell that Daryl had already gone through with the Saviors, nobodywas going to take Rick’s side in this stupid ass argument. The two men had hadtoo much anxious energy to relax for one day, so they had ended up sniping at eachother over something childish, just to get the pent up energy out of theirsystems. Except now they weren’t talking to each other, and everybody in thetrailer was trying not to look amused at their harmless squabbling.

Sashaand Maggie were sitting at the table, cleaning their weapons and writing in anotebook respectively. Maggie wasn’t fully engaging the conversation, but shenodded her head absently when Daryl got to venting. Tara was on the other endof the couch, openly grinning at the ridiculous situation, because she was outof Daryl’s line of sight. Michonne had gotten into a crossword puzzle book, andCarl was reading it over her shoulder. Enid was beside him, looking unsure asto how to react to Daryl and Rick’s argument, torn between irritated andamused.

“Okay,that right there,” Sasha remarked with a snort. “You gotta see where Rick’s comingfrom.”

“Yeah,but where he’s coming from is stupid,” Daryl mumbled.

Forthe past hour, since Daryl had plopped himself down, Rosita’s fidgeting handshad started toying with his hair, which was drying fluffy after a shower. Hell,she had some anxious energy too, but picking a fight over…this? Daryl had neverstruck her as someone who liked physical contact, but after everything, heseemed to be craving it. Her restless hands had been happy to oblige, findingan outlet by playing with his hair. She’d already braided it and then loosenedit, given him pigtails and then pulled them down. Currently, she was justrunning her fingers through it, letting it spill down out of her hands.

“Wouldit be so awful to let him have this one?” Michonne snorted. “Yeah, maybe it’sstupid, but it’s his daughter. Maybe he just doesn’t want her first word to be ‘fuck’or something else.”

Tarashook her head. “I’m with Daryl on this one. I mean, the dead are up and movingaround. Is bad language really such a big deal?”

Sashasmirked. “Have you ever heard a small child say swear words? That is thefunniest thing ever. But you can’t laugh, or they’ll never stop.”

“SoI guess,” Daryl growled. “Saying ‘make sure you stab the walker in the brain’is more acceptable than ‘make sure you stab the walker in the fucking brain’?”

Rositashook her head. “The only obscene thing about all this is how soft your hairis. Seriously, what the Hell is this?”

“Ooh,let me feel,” Tara said, leaning over the side of the couch.

“Buzzoff.” Daryl leaned away and swatted at her half heartedly.

Whenhe sat back though, Tara still ran a hand through his hair, and he just sighedin surrender.

“Goddamn,” Tara whispered. “Maggie, feel this.”

“Iknow,” Maggie remarked without looking up. “It’s been infuriating for twoyears.”

Darylsnorted as he looked at her, and Rosita combed his bangs back, starting togather it all up for a standard ponytail. The only downside was that his hairseemed to be all different lengths, so some of it hung down on either side ofhis forehead. Maybe if she could scrounge up some bobby pins…

Carlslumped in his seat between Michonne and Enid. “Up until a few months ago, Dadwas still getting on to me for swearing.”

Michonneand Sasha both laughed at that. Daryl pointed at him.

“See?It ain’t a big deal. People make too big a deal outta first words anyway.”

“Minewas kitty,” Tara chimed thoughtfully.

Darylswiveled around and gave her a flat stare. She lifted her shoulders.

“Momma,”Maggie added.

“Dog,”Sasha stated.

“Goddammit,” Daryl grumbled.

“Thosewere your first words?” Michonne teased.

Theyall laughed gently.

“No,”Daryl huffed, but Rosita could see how his posture had relaxed at the mirth. “Idon’t know what they were. It ain’t important.”

Rositatugged the hair tie from her wrist and finished tying his hair back in aponytail. She prodded at it a bit. It didn’t look half bad.

“Hey,do a man bun,” Sasha suggested.

“Okay!”Rosita grinned.

Thedoor to the trailer opened, and Rick stepped up in with them. He looked likehis anger had fizzled out to tired resignation.

“Hey,”he greeted lowly.

Daryljust grunted.

“I’msorry,” Rick continued. “Things like that…It’s part of the old world, and Iguess my gut reaction is still to protect my children from it. But I don’t needto protect them from this. Let ‘em swear. The world they’re growing up in…they’veearned that.”

Darylseemed to ponder that, and the room waited with baited breath.

“Damnstraight,” he finally muttered.

Rickvisibly relaxed and smiled, pulling a third chair to the table to join Maggieand Sasha.

“So…whatdid I miss?” he asked, like nothing had even happened, and their day off hadn’tbeen hijacked by an immature quarrel.

“Whatwere your first words?” Maggie asked. “As a baby.”

“Bird,”he responded quickly, then pointed to Carl. “Yours was Dadda.”

Carlsmiled even as his face flushed. Enid giggled. The atmosphere of the roomlightened up, and Rick looked over to Daryl.

“Nicehair, man.”

Darylchuckled as Rosita put the finishing touches on his man bun. “Fuck you.”