#i also spent way too long getting a screenshot of the two of them eating the spaghetti lady and the tramp style yesterday

[feeling--pink]

Day 19 (green) - Bujeet 💚

Frenemies is so iconic I don't think it's peak Bujeet for me but its UP THERE!!

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Onstage

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

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

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

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots

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

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

“Goodness. You two slept together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That ship has sailed, Carol!

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

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

“How late did you guys stay up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait. Really?”

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

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

“Sure can.”

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

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

“What the h—”

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Heck no.”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heya.”

“Morning, Shane.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine.

You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.

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

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

Huh, cool, your breathing feels a little better, too.

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

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

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

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

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

Glenn.

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

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

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

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

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

Ew, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.

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

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

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

And you’re right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shakes her head.

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

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

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

They're sharing...all of those?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him

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

“I can’t hunt?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

Dude, you had a panic attack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tight feeling returned in your chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.

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

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

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

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

One puff. Hold breath in.

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

Another puff. Hold breath in.

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

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

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

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

Over and over she coached you.

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

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

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

“Were you wheezing?”

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

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

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

“Was it about Maggie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what did you do?

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

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

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

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

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

“When he had what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, b-but—”

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

“But wh—”

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

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

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

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

Him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Phew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” What’d she mean?

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

…

...

…they what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want some more coffee, too?”

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

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

You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s gotta, it’s the setup.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

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

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

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

“What appeal?”

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

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

“And he was funny!” she goes on.

You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”

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

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

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

So now, your job = keep chill.

“Are you helping with target practice later?”

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

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

“Is everything okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Book?? “A book?”

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

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

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

“Oh shit.”

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

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

Him

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

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

“Hiya, Daryl.”

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

He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...

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

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

“It's a chick.”

Clearly. “Why?”

���It’s cute.”

She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”

“Yeah, it's adorable!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wear this, like, all the time.”

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

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

“’Kay.”

Y/N looks pretty.

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

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

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

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

“—Dare, you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

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

“M’fine, I just spaced out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you point your toes three times?”

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

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

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

“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[sizzlingpatrolfox]

https://www.tumblr.com/sizzlingpatrolfox/758487328999243776/so-was-jimin-supposed-to-go-after-him-always?source=share

Have you ever had that type of friend where you feel like you're the one carrying the friendship and the moment you stop trying you and this friend wouldn't see each other anymore? Jimin saying that if he didn't go to the US when he did the show wouldn't have happened doesn't surprise me. Remember the whole dance video thing last year and how Jungkook acted like the other members wouldn't want to do it with him when we all know they would've if he just asked?

I think he's that type of person that never initiates anything, he's just always waiting for other people to start things for him. I mean, he's even like that with his carrer. The fact that as early as beginning of 2022 Jimin was already working on his album, but a whole year after that by the beginning of 2023 and Jungkook still didn't seem to have any plans. If it wasn't for SB he wouldn't even have released an album.

I was thinking that I don't know how Jimin has the patience for him then I remembered my younger sibling is the same way where I always have to be the one to seek them out. So I get it Jimin, is that older sibling life. Which is fine when it's your sibling, but if this was my boyfriend there's no way I would let that shit slide. And that really sums up their relationship to me: Mostly fine for a friendship but shitty for a romantic relationship.

You've made several points.. especially the one about the dance challenges which I hadn't thought about now these days, but I remember that when he said that I wrote about how he was obviously lying and he didn't even ask the members to make a video with him. He just didn't ask them, the way I'm 10000% sure he never texted Jimin personally, or "formally" invited him over. I mean, not while he was on live.

The night JK went live and fell asleep with the camera on he said he didn't have anything to do the next day. If I recall correctly it was the same night he went to the theatre with wooga, then went back home and passed out drunk.

That same night Jimin was posting Instagram stories from his home, watching Hoseok and Yoongi videos. If I recall correctly, the next day he went to visit Jin with Hoseok. Later, he said they'd gone to see him because both him and Hoseok had that day off.

If you're in touch with someone you'd know if not only one but two of people who are supposedly close to you are going to meet another friend. He could've gone visit Jin as well.

People think all that started in March 2023 when it had been happening since long before. August 2022, Jimin spent like three weeks in the USA? Then he flew back to Korea and that same night, Jungkook was out eating with some people. So for the people who think they're dating, Jimin's away for like a month and his boyfriend doesn't get dinner with him when he arrives? Before world cup openings ceremony too, Jungkook went bowling with Taehyung. Around those same days they were together at the paradise hotel.

So Jungkook has time to hook up with women at his home, but not to grab dinner with Jimin?

I really can't fathom the level of self deception those who believe they're boyfriends must be putting themselves through. It's not 2+2 at this point, it's 2+2+2+2+2+2 like. There are so many factors.

I also found these posts, I took screenshots because I have to click everywhere on my phone to add the link and this is easier. But these are from March 3rd 2023.

I also remember briefly bringing up Tom Holland and Zendaya, you know, a real couple. And how they were seen together more times than jikook were seen together in two years, and Tom and Zendaya don't even live in the same continent lol. I think I got some anons trying to lecture ME on queer people and how to live like a queer person in a gay relationship, compared to disgusting heteros like tomdaya.

Anyways. I really don't think I'll reply to more asks about this because it's so repetitive. There really isn't much to say. They aren't dating each other, they're just very dear friends, obviously.

Finally.. Does anyone have the screenshot of Hoseok's ig story on his birthday last year? I'm almost scared I might've dreamed it because I can't find it anywhere but I'm sure he posted a picture of a cake or flowers? and tagged Jimin, as if Jimin had brought those to him the night of his birthday, after the live in the company.

[mongoose-bite]

I don't take many screenshots, but when I do it's of my girl going '...really?' I should save them up for a DO IT FOR HER meme.

Gale is nice, but Faye is REALLY uncomfortable being his dealer, and thinks a lot of his friendliness is just cause she's his supplier. All this wizard stuff goes over her head, tall as she is.

Wyll was very much 'Same hat!' only 'Same job!' I too spent my time rescuing peasants from goblins.

His uh...significant other is a significant problem, but my girl's reaching the point of trying to brainstorm her own dark secrets just to fit in and failing miserably because making things up is not in her nature and she's not smart like that. Although she did eat a tadpole. I don't think she's gonna do it again though. Also somehow I made my guardian into The Rock, but as a drow, which is a little weird (I did not spend long on him.)

Faye does not like or know how to talk to children; she's most happy carrying them out of a burning building or something similar. Actual conversation with them? No. There's a kid getting yelled at in the tiefling camp and she feels bad about ignoring it but really does not want to get involved.

Karliah is lovely in every way (so hot) but I just don't think I'm gonna need her in my party. Although a barbarian, fighter, paladin, wizard combo worked surprisingly well until we found a locked door.

Gale didn't seem to notice how sexy a situation he was in though. It was literally too hot for him; I finished hunting down those 'paladins' and I immediately opened my journal to read the updates, and completely missed Karliah going critical and closed my journal to see Gale unconscious at my feet and the sounds of destruction from within the tollhouse. I turn my back for two seconds i stg.

Asterion continues to tolerate my presence. He keeps getting inspired, but that doesn't improve his opinion of me any. I even bought him a nice bow, with which he almost soloed a giant spider.

Laz'ael blew mostly cold and then suddenly hot. Faye is surprised and flattered enough that she'll go for it, but she's gonna feel weird about it afterwards. I don't think Laz'ael is her type at the end of the day. I, on the other hand, might make my dragonborn a druid? Maybe a sorcerer...

I did finally find someone that made her smile though. His name's Scratch.

I also had a weird dream IRL where my PC was somehow from Yuri on Ice and there was an in-game event where the other characters showed up, and I really wanted a picture of Yuri and Otabek, cause Yuri's in-game model looked so good. I want to play him now. Adds to list: tiny blond elvish wild magic barbarian. Asterion will probably like him better.

[megarabane]

JUST SAW YOUR ASK ON HELLSITE-GENETICS AND NEEDED TO SEND YOU AN ASK!! /POS

you are like literally the person i want to be with the bird stuff i absolutely LOVE belted kingfishers they are so pretty. they are also one of my favorite birds (i have too many favorites i cant just pick one) but birds are so smart and their feathers are so cool like omg i love birds

im currently a small senior in highschool/sophomore in college and want more people who like birds in my life :))

anyway whats your favorite thing to study about birds? mine is how smart they are but also like how bluejays have the feathers that reflect the sun to show the blue :))

[id: screenshot of two text messages that say "oh good i get to get [sic] explain this to you" / "you will regret this" followed by the ellipses of someone typing. end id]

FELLOW BIRD ENJOYER SPOTTED

(sad my ask to hellsite-genetics didn't get me a bird tho but i did get the added satisfaction of knowing the goofy goober song is a member of the genus i exalted in my ask so all in all it's a solid win)

let me preface all of this with saying that while a lot of my experience with birds and learning about birds has been in a classroom setting i've also spent *checks watch* three summers now (including this upcoming one) doing field work working almost exclusively with birds in the midwest united states, so honestly a lot of the things i've learned have been incidental knowledge i've obtained working in the field. i'm not an *expert*, i just have a BS in environmental science and a lot of birding experience.

full slapshod essay rant of me going on about birds (edit: i just reread it and good GOD i went on for a while) of me talking about birds below the cut bc i already know this is gonna be far too long but you asked about my favorite thing in the world so this is on you my friend (affectionate)

i'm definitely ENRAPTURED with how smart birds are. They're so fucking intelligent it's almost scary.

since you brought em up imma talk about bluejays first!! i did part of a project my last year of college on bluejays!!

blue jays will often mimic the calls of other birds, esp predators like red-tailed hawks, with such accuracy that even bird id apps like Merlin (shameless plug) will mistake a mimicking bluejay for a real red-tailed. when i was doing audio surveys for northern bobwhites we had to have a separate training day where the only thing we focused on was how to tell if a mockingbird / thrasher / blue jay was mimicking the distinct bobwhite call and how that wasn't to be counted as a sighting.

(in my experience a lot of it has to do with pitch, repetition, and completion of what's considered the 'full song' of the NOBO, since a lot of mimids won't do the 'full song' and will just handpick bits to weave into the rest of their noises. bluejays especially will do this. mockingbirds will sometimes do the full song, but NOBOs have a pretty measurable repetition gap between their songs, at least in the areas we were doing surveys).

i remembered learning in a class that some bluejays will find bird feeders and spy on them, then mimic red-tailed and red-shouldered hawk calls to get the other birds to scatter, so they can then fly down and eat without having to fight for the tastiest bits.

when i was working with birds over the summer, one of the things we did was setting ground traps for mourning doves so they could be banded and then tracked for hunter take (they're a game species in my state). there were always blue jays in those traps. they're so fascinating to see up close, with their heavy bills and tough little feet and they're so full of rage. and they're loud.

also the thing about their FEATHERS - YES. it fucked me up to learn blue jays are naturally brown. iirc it has to do with the way the barbs on their feathers are put together with modified cells, which scatter the light in a special way to make them appear blue. If you get a bluejay feather in your hand it's only blue at certain angles and the undersides are almost usually completely brown unless you hold them in the light just so.

blue jays are part of the family Corvidae so it makes sense why they're so smart, in the family with other birds like ravens and crows.

well i didn't mean to go on for so long about blue jays. they are wonderful tho aren't they?? <3

my favorite thing to study about birds??? hoooooo boy what a question. everything?? is everything an option??

habitat effects on population size and habitat selection at the individual level is fascinating. i've done a lot of work with population studies, basically doing audio-visual surveys (point counts) of how many of x and y and z target species live in this area at a given point in time, then using that data to extrapolate potential population numbers in an area as narrow as a few square miles and as wide as the whole state (i worked for the state department of natural resources so we were focused only on our state obv).

in that effort, using that information to both directly and indirectly learn what environmental factors affect which bird species and how was so so interesting to me, and some of them are things so small we don't even think about them sometimes!! if there's as few as a handful of pine/cedar/evergreen trees in a field or grassland, you're far more likely to find cedar waxwings and indigo buntings, and you rarely see them in areas dominated by deciduous trees. red-winged blackbirds love wetlands, and while they aren't (iirc) specifically wetland-dependent, something as small as a single pond is enough to attract them in droves.

behavior is also such a cool topic to me, which i've learned more and more about just by birdwatching and attending bird-related conferences and working with wildlife biologists.

birds like the brown creeper are bark foragers that almost exclusively move upwards along a tree. they'll start at the bottom and move up, and once they reach a point they deem 'too high', they'll fly to the bottom of the next tree and move up. conversely, birds like nuthatches, still bark foragers, almost exclusively move down trees in the same way - they'll start at the top, forage downwards, and when they reach the bottom, they'll fly back to the top and do it again.

the yellow-bellied sapsucker (woodpecker family), as the name implies, eats a lot of sap, so they drill holes into a tree, like woodpeckers do, but they lay them down in 'bands' that run horizontally around the tree, often with multiple rows on top of each other, leading to a grid-like pattern of shallow holes only an inch or two apart from each other. that's often the best way to figure out where to look for sapsuckers when you're birding!! (apart from actually seeing or hearing the little guy, obv.)

incidentally, i learned that it's really really hard to put backpack trackers on henslow's sparrows, not bc they're so small and hard to catch, but because they're smart enough to realize there's a thing on their back and will, somehow, pull the backpack around to their front and completely mangle it beyond repair, and that's before they chew it off.

god i could go on forever. kestrels. ospreys. owls. nightjars. songbirds. fisherbirds. albatrosses. puffins. kinglets. sparrows. starlings. they're all so good and perfect and wonderful and fascinating and if i could learn everything about all of them forever i would.

in an extremely roundabout way of answering your question, if you're still reading and haven't run for the hills yet, i can't pick just one thing to call my favorite to learn about birds. everything about them is so interesting and makes me so excited to learn and see and talk about.

belted kingfisher lovers unite!

edit: I DIDN'T EVEN TALK ABOUT TURKEYS EITHER I'M DOING TURKEY RESEARCH TOO -

[senkovi]

[ID: two screenshots from the show Yellowjackets followed by excerpts of interviews from the show’s creators, Jonathan Lisco, Bart Nickerson, and Ashley Lyle.

The screenshots show young Shauna holding Jackie’s face in her hands and to Shauna, appears fully alive.

The interviewer asks, “OK, enough of this — Shauna eats Jackie’s ear! Tell me every detail of how you came up with that twist, and why you ended the episode with that.”

Lisco replies, “Of course, she’s hungry and she’s pregnant, so she eats the ear that accidentally broke off when she pushed Jackie down — but it’s really about their friendship. It’s about this very specific friendship that Jackie and Shauna had, where Shauna loves Jackie, but also was always in her shadow. She adored this friend of hers, but also in some ways, was always wanting to kind of destroy her — maybe that’s going a bridge too far? But I think that is very relatable to a lot of people who are in these intense friendships.

And so the next step of that is consumption, right? I literally want to consume this person, because I love them so much — but I also want them no longer to exist in a way. I also want to keep them a part of me for my entire existence. We were playing with that kind of plasticity on a psychological and emotional level, and not just have it be about, “Oh, I’m gonna eat the ear!”

Nickerson replies, “Two things. This idea of wanting to destroy that which you love — there’s almost a part of me that’s starting to create this theory that those aren’t actually opposing views. I guess I’m thinking about the most clichéd imaginable impersonation of a grandmother wanting to, like, rip the cheek off of a cute kid. Like, they’re just so overwhelmed with cuteness and affection that they actually want to destroy the thing that is the object of that.

And then the other thing is — and I usually don’t want to do this, talk about what almost was — but I just think it’s hilarious the amount of time that we spent both in breaking writing, and then in editing, deciding how much of the ear — like, should it go in the mouth, should it not go in the mouth? Should there be a chew?”

The interviewer also asks, “And the Tori Amos of it all — why was ‘Cornflake Girl’ the song you chose for that scene? Was it because of the lyric ‘things are getting kind of gross’ as she’s looking at the ear?

Lyle responds, “I have always loved that song — I’ve been a huge Tori Amos fan since middle school, and we’ve been wanting to get Tori in the show for a long time. I think what’s so perfect is, as Jonathan and Bart are saying, to us the ear is this baby step toward the cannibalism — but also being this metaphor for the intensity of those female friendships. And that bizarre desire to want to be the other person, and to almost want to consume the other person.

All of Shauna’s guilt and her shame and her grief — I mean, that song is about how fraught female friendships are. It felt so thematically perfect. She’s been going through a little bit of an identity crisis as a teenager, from the moment we meet her in the pilot until now. And she’s continuing it throughout Season 2. Who is she, really? How does she fit in, particularly without Jackie? And so it just seemed like the perfect song.”

end ID]

‘Yellowjackets’ Showrunners Dissect Season 2 Premiere: Shauna’s Recklessness and That Shocking [SPOILER] at the End

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

[minnarr]

the layout of four seasons manor, part 1

i have spent. WAY too long taking screenshots of every bit of four seasons manor they showed us, and then attempting to fit them together. i think maybe i can fit some of it on the larger picture if we squint finally?

take a journey with me

to start, this is the best single shot I have of the full manor from overhead. it definitely extends back past that first courtyard, and kind of spirals off towards the right, rather than all being contained in neat rectangular courtyards. i am also going to call the direction of the front gate south and the direction you go to walk further into the complex north just because a lot of these shots change angles and it seems to be common to stick the main house towards the north

for this first post, because it got too long and also the rest of the rooms are a knot i haven’t yet unraveled, i’m just going to cover the front courtyard, the main hall (gentle winds and light clouds), and two unnamed rooms

Front Courtyard

the first area we explore is of course that front courtyard

just inside the front gates - it appears there is just a covered walkway, rather than any kind of building on this front layer

on the east side, we’ve got the statues that control the 28-constellation array on a kind of raised platform surrounded by a rail with gold-capped posts

(this is a vew from inside facing towards the front gate )

i believe this is also where wkx later plays soothing music for zzs the first night they spend there because of those posts

the west side is just kind of a nice chill place to walk around

Gentle Winds and Light Clouds

at the north end of the front courtyard is a building with a sign that is translated as gentle winds and light clouds

the inside seems to be a major living/receiving area:

there’s spaces semi-divided off to the side on both sides of that main section

(view towards the east side)

(view towards the west side)

this room is one of the many places where our trio eat dinner; after wkx restores the painting, they set up a meal behind the desk, seemingly having dragged over the table and chairs from the east side room

Gentle Winds and Light Clouds - ZZS’ Bedroom

later, when they have beds set up, there’s an establishing shot of the gentle winds sign before showing zzs’ bed, so presumably this is also the building where he sleeps. 

i just want to point out this shot bc a) we can see it looks onto a narrowish courtyard (probably to the east or west side of the building) and b) we will see this exact framing again!

when han ying arrives, they stick him in zzs’ bed. note the flower arrangements, the window screens, and the view through them. and this is great, because we see a LOT more of this room then and it’s a great room

you get into it through the door to a courtyard, there’s a kind of porch there

the bed is to your right as you walk in

and there’s this neat area to the left that i never got a really good look into but i love the wooden divider thing

my best guess is that this room is entered from one of the side courtyards, and the far window faces onto the other

Cold River Room

i have fully made up a name for this room because it sounds better than Sleeping Bag Room, which is what I’ve called it in my notes. (so named for the painting that seems to depict a river through the mountains in cool tones).

this is the room where the trio sleep before they set up proper beds. 

(view facing one direction)

(and view facing the other)

it has doors that open up onto a courtyard, but i couldn’t really tell which courtyard. the best indicator i have is that wkx plays xiao in the defensive array after zzs’ bad night there, but like, wkx does not have to be close to zzs for the music to work for him. the cold river room appears to be a standalone room; it’s got walls with windows and/or doors on all sides

Medicine Room

this room also isn’t named, but a friend called it the bath / medicine room and the second part stuck in my head, so medicine room it is. this is the room where wkx takes an emotional bath while zzs puts together medicine in an adjoining section

on the right side from the door is this section with the bins of...dried flowers? and a work table. there’s a blue and orange painting - i think those are mountains?

and then on the left side, there’s a set of screens that matches the painting (neat!) and on the far side from that, the bath tub

there appear to be matching screens with trefoil cutouts and trees set across the entryway from each other, which is a neat detail. very satisfyingly symmetrical. i don’t know where this one is and i don’t think there’s really window view info to be had, either, so this one’s a mystery as well. notably, it is not the same room where zzs later grinds up flowers while wkx “helps”

that’s all for this one. part 2 is going to cover what i call the bridge courtyard, but i’m gonna hold off both because this post got super long on its own, and because something i noticed while looking at zzs’ room means i have to re-evaluate how i think that one’s laid out. (spoiler: i have no idea how the bridge courtyard fits into the layout of the manor, but it holds the rest of the locations i found)

go here for part 2

[pathetic-gamer]

And that concludes Verdant Wind maddening mode/classic/no NG+ We did it! Gold screen!!

[The only reason this took 24 turns is that I spent 10 full turns parked on a stronghold trying to make Nemesis break his sword bc I thought it would be funny. He did, and it was. Ingrid final MVP yet again - i now have final MVP screens for her from every route but CF lol]

Once I got through the first few two chapters, this was significantly less challenging than I had expected. The final map was just as hard as AM, which is to say, not hard.

Run summary and some final thoughts (including some VW vs Silver Snow ~discourse~) below the cut <3

Making everyone fight their zombies was fun, and I did manage to get some crit/crest/signature art combos, too! Took clips of it, I'll put them together someday probably. The only hard part was wasting so much time trying to get people in the right position to fight their zombies at all (looking at you, Mercedes).

Fraldarius vs Fraldarius was a sight to behold, tbh. They both activated their crests almost every attack but also both consistently either dodged or proc'd aegis - even survived a crit through aegis - so it took four rounds of combat. (And NO, no one else was allowed to help. This was Felix's fight and his alone, ok.) Being a melodramatic bastard in combat must run in the family. I wrote a fic about it lol.

Units, classes, items:

Felix actually used a sword for most of this battle, I just happened to have the bow equipped when I took the screenshot. Also, they didn't all actually use their relics for the majority of the battle. Mostly silver weapons or the legendary forged ones. ALSO also, Leonie is actually a sniper, I had to restart bc I forgot I had reclassed her during some auxiliary battles.

I feel like I finally understand firsthand why crests make the nobility lol Leonie was the only person on the team without a crest, and I actively missed it. Constantly disappointed by the lack of a fun little glowing shape smh

Final pairings:

m!Byleth/Linhardt

Claude/Marianne

Hilda/Balthus

Lysithea/Cyril

Leonie/Seteth

Catherine/Shamir

Felix/Annette

Mercedes/Sylvain

Ingrid/Yuri

Dorothea/Petra (no, I didn't use either of them for a single battle, I just made them eat lunch together until they fell in love ok thank u bye)

Overall MVP: It was surprisingly even across the board, but ultimately Annette took it, winning by two over Sylvain and Lysithea, who were tied.

Highlight: Gronder Field, where I successfully made Edelgard kill Dimitri so I wouldn't have to.

FINAL THOUGHTS ON STORY + SILVER SNOW COMPARISONS: (warning you now, this is really long)

Verdant Wind's story actually falls flat sometimes, man. Things like Edelgard’s death scene stick out like a sore thumb, they so obviously belong to a different story (*cough cough* silver snow). What if instead, we got some final dialogue between her and Claude where he says he could have worked with her? He explicitly said earlier that he thinks they actually have similar goals.

(It also would have made the TWSITD reveal more interesting ["Edelgard, bestie, rethink this. We both want to free people from prejudice and discrimination, we can work together." "Surprise, bitch, I wasn't doing this on my own, the whole thing was manufactured by these secret baddies." "Girl help, I've been underestimating the depth of the secrets of this world."])

Idk, I still like it but there's something to be said about how much was taken from Silver Snow and vice versa and where they REALLY belong. When I finally played Silver Snow, after having already played VW, I was like "ohhhhhhh this makes sense now" about so many things. I'm actually of the opinion that VW is reusing story from Silver Snow more than the other way around. In fact, think Nemesis would have been an appropriate penultimate boss for Silver Snow (penultimate bc lets be honest, hes not designed like a final boss. I literally fucked around and made him lose his battalion and break his sword, just for fun. He's just a normal map boss. Kinda boring.).

What they SHOULD have done is turned Thales into a final boss for Claude so that TWSITD actually do feel like the ultimate baddies theyre supposed to be. He could even turn himself into a big cool monster like Edelgard does in AM!!

And I do love the final boss in Silver Snow, I think it's what really makes the story hit. You sided with the church specifically to save Rhea from Edelgard, only to end up having to fight her anyway! You fight the people who want nothing more than to kill Rhea, only to have to kill her yourself! You finally learn the truth of the destruction of the Nabateans, only to have to pit them against each other! Gorgeous!!!!

So heres my ultimate proposal for Silver Snow: Claude helps draw troops away from the great bridge of myrrdin, as is canon. You actually do try to help Dimitri at Gronder, but you get there too late to save him. You defeat the empire, then they give you the info about TWSITD. You defeat Nemesis. Seiros goes berserk, and you fight her as the real final boss.

For Verdant Wind: All the same, except Thales is the actual final boss. The End.

Okay that's all thanks for reading love you bye xoxo

[stargirlwnchstr]

I have a visual to share with y'all. Say welcome to my long ass 'The Foxes + tiktok' headcanon

@ nickythefox_es (part 1???)

Basically Nicky gets tiktok but all of the foxes show up eventually and just use his profile.

• Most of the videos are with nicky and allison, also matt and dan and occasionally neil.

• Allison and nicky learn so many dances.

• Their duet of make his pockets hurt with Mariah and Zane from the vlog squad is the first one to go v i r a l.

• Yeah most of their followers know them but some and a lot of the comments are non exy fans that just watch them because they're cool

• So many of the "what is exy" "stickball game??" "dont even bother explaining to me what is the sport they play I dont care I'm just here for neil." And related comments get a liked from creator (andrew told nicky to like them)

•The "Oh my god she's coming." "I'm so afraid of her." Audio are the twinyards and nicky shows up, he had to bribe them to be a part of that one.

• They post another version but it's Kevin that enters and Allison and Nicky talking

• So many comments thirsting over them and calling matt and dan parents

• "the real bisexual struggle is simping for matt and dan in the same tiktok." -> liked from creator nickythefox_es commented/replied: ASDGFKSSDWADKWB

• Someone makes a 'put a finger down: Neil Josten edition' and nicky drags him to do it. They both smile as they listen to the prompts and Neil obviously puts all his fingers down but they're like "put a finger down if you clapbacked/if you bad mouthed someone (bonus points if it was on national tv)" "put a finger down if you're under 6 feet" "put a finger down if you love exy" and the last one just says "put a finger down if andrew minyard." Neil does and smiles at someone off camera. Needless to say it goes viral as well. A few weeks after nicky gets verified.

• Allison becomes friends with thenavarose and wisdom sorry I dont make the rules (they're fashion tiktokers)

• They make a series of rating each of the foxes throughout the day, including one of Wymack.

• They do receive bad comments, from bitter ravens fans or just recalling their pasts and nicky sits down and makes a video telling everyone about how they do this videos for fun they dont need hate and negative comments on their videos and all that

• Then another one posted minutes after, neil comes in and nicky says "okay neil you have one minute. Rant off." And neil goes on this rant like how they already hit Rock bottom a single comment is not gonna hurt them and "do you get how insignificant and meaningless your lives must be? You took the time to write and post a comment that you thought was gonna cause an impact and failed. Also thanks for the comments though it helps nicky stay on the algorithm." NICKY SCREECHES AND THE VIDEO ENDS WITH THEM SMILING

• Allison vlogs neil and her going shopping or thrifting also cutting Neil's hair

• *neil walks into the room wearing his orange bandana* *camera moves and zooms on Andrew's face* he doesnt lip sync but the song sings "oh noo I think I'm catching feelings" andrew tells him to delete it "but it already has thousands of likes andrew"

• They post some of their work out routines per request

• One of them is the fast and "I'm spinning like a ballerina" chill of neil just running on the treadmill and doing sprints and squats and leg stuff while it cuts to allison doing a bit of everything but looking like a queen on a matching set.

• A fun one that goes viral for "vine energy" is: it's very quiet on the court and Kevin, very in the zone, throws the ball to the goal, which Andre's catches easily and almost without moving. The camera goes back to kevin as he screeches and let's himself fall on the ground. Neil is standing beside him shaking his head and looking at the goal with a smile on his face.

• They try to teach neil the dances but while filming one of them he just leaves. They post it either way.

• They're in the bus, nicky is on selfie mode and says "it is game day my dudes" he turns and shows the whole bus S C R E A M S, in the corner Wymack is covering his face.

• The iconic "they say drunk thoughts are sober words" or something like that and it cuts to a series of videos of the foxes drunk af. Example: Nicky grabbing Allison's face and saying 'Remember. Bread. Head. Leave.' And allison nodding.

• Nicky films kevin standing up and put the "do you ever wonder what is going on inside their head?" And it cuts to pictures of racquets and exy and Jeremy Knox and one that says history stuff.

• Another one that goes viral is kevin very seriously and p e r f o r m i n g, rapping Jefferson's side of the cabinet battle #1 from Hamilton then towards the end andrew stands up in front of him and with his iconic bored expression he starts rapping Hamilton's part. Behind the camera there's a soft "...oh my gOD" and kevin is shocked eyes widen open and then the camera zooms on Neil who's mouth is open in shock but GRINNING and ~impressed~

• Dan and matt do The challenge, you know the one that like has to flip them over and all that and they ace it, nicky points the camera to where andrew and neil are stating and Andrew says no.

• A few minutes later another video of the challenge is posted only this time is matt and neil.

• Nicky and allison are in full gear filming a dance video (maybe savage or captain hook) on the court and someone films them filming that and then Wymack looking at them SO disappointed cut to Wymack with nicky's phone, having confiscated it and nicky besides him "coach, it's cardio!"

• Hours spent trying trick shots

• Foxes: "get back! Move!" Ravens: "Let me in! I be the I g g y!" Trojans: "Oh my God do no let her in" Foxes: "I am trying!"

• Nicky lying down: "okay but someone needs to tell me how old is the shirtless pottery guy. I can't be part of another controversy. It's for science c'mon. *debby Ryan's*"

• Someone comments "he's eighteen. Simp away, nicky." And he makes a video with his feet swinging and smiling. Aaron gets on the frame and says "we are deeply in need of some bowls." The caption: hi @ papapots

• They are verified so obviously he gains a couple of thousands followers and he duets smiling and with a package in his arms. Text: thanks for the support (and hi new followers from sport side of tiktok hope you enjoy my pots) caption: hi @ nickthefox_es I got you aaron.

• After the package comes they duet it with nicky screaming and showing off the goods and then he moves stop show andrew eating ice cream out of one of them. Caption: AJSNEPWLDKSS THANK YOU DAX

• Allison and nicky do the "I love you!" "No you dont topper! You love the idea of me. You love being seen with me but you dont love me." But nicky is Sarah and allison is topper. Next day the obx ig page reposted it "we stan the psu foxes pogues for life." And chase stokes posts it on Twitter saying "yoo the palmetto foxes watch??? my show???" Nicky takes a screenshot and on green screen he says "hi chase!! We do! The whole team binged it. Currently we've been debating who of us is going to dress up as pogues for Halloween." A lot of voices start arguing and as nicky is gonna enter the debate the video cuts.

• Allison does the facetime *deep male voice says hey* prank on them. Neil doesnt react. Nicky doesnt look up from his phone but does the finger thing and says "get that d, allison!" Dan and renee look at each other and then at allison and she bursts out laughing.

• aaron studying to be a doctor: *two plus two is four etc sound* andrew (eating pretzels from the bag while watching a game show lying down in a bean bag) and his eiditic memory [basically not needing to study]: *three is a magic number sound*

• Nicky runs through the court and enters the lounge beside the photo wall there's a poster he shows the camera as the sounds says it "alive ahaha fuck"

• Somehow they convince all of them to show up and do the wipe it down trend that ends up with wymack throwing the towel at the mirror.

• Comment: so how many members of the team listen to girl in red or sweater weather? Nicky stands there with the color filter: 👁👄👁👉👈 caption: yes❤

• He gets neil to duet to the whole "british people be like". "Neil I'm not british." "Part of you is so just read the tweets." He does and the comments are all thirst and simping

• Comment: raise your hand if you've been victimized by neil josten. Where my fellow Simps at? (The comment gets hundreds of thousands of likes) they make a video, everyone on the team except aaron who walks out raises their hand as the sound says "welcome to simp nation" kevin rolls his eyes but raises his, says something that nicky captions "i simp over his exy skills". andrew doesn't at first, but next to him neil whispers something and after andrew says yes, neil grabs Andrew's forearm and raises it. Andrew looks away and neil smiles.

• Nicky lying down: okay but what if Jean moreau traded places with the french guy from here you know who, david.

• Comment "ugh your mind nicky" reply video: right? Big brain, many thoughts, head full all the time. But like actually the idea of david playing exy and Jean hanging out with ducks and making viral tiktoks just-

• Comment "i feel you and @ austincantdrive would make the best chaotic duo" reply: we would be too powerful together. Austin replies too: agree.

• Allison makes a sports jersey/comfy wear but make it fashion and she styles herself. Everyone on the comments d i e s for her.

• Comment "okay but what about the boys. help allison." She makes a video too with matt and nicky and at the end neil wears an orange crop top and the internet b r e a k s

• Comment "allison do you listen to girl in red?" video reply: her winking at the camera and lip syncing as sweater weather plays. The comments a lot of them liked by creator: a win for the girls (and the boys)

• Upperclassmen Back in 2003: okay but hey do we always have to be involved? Can we do normal stuff that normal people do, like, go for brunch? Us (aaron, andrew, kevin and me): what the fuck is brunch?

• Of course they do the mr blue sky trend. Nicky: drunkenly goes to flirt with a guy. Aaron: drunkenly follows to get away from kevin. Kevin: drunk on pure vodka reminds us we have practice in the morning.

• Or another one all of them. Neil: ready to insult a reporter. Dan: tries not to laugh on camera. Matt: gets ready to hug him afterwards Allison and Nicky: Filming everything. Wymack: the only one trying to stop it from happening and failing.

• Dan and matt duet their reactions to every video edit of them, smiling and saying "your parents love you guys!".

• Comment "literally what is wrong with the ravens/ravens fans?The foxes are such a nice group of people and they're doing great in the sport y'all worship just shut up you cult-y athletic hype house." video reply: "ladies and gentlemen. The volume inside of this bus is A S T R O N O M I C A L."

• comment video reply: okay so we're not gonna talk about nicky at the gym?? Bc C A K E. nicky lip syncing "I'm glad you brung it up because I've been dying to talk about this for a fucking hot minute. First of all-"

• Colin uses one of Neil's or Andrew's interviews replies as one of his sounds and nicky fanboys a lot

• Allison and nicky do the Kardashian sound compilation.

• Nicky with a picture of Erik on green screen: "hi I just wanna say if you look anything like this please contact me. Thank you." Caption: miss u baby. And Erik watches his tiktoks and he facetimes him immediately. Nicky takes a screenshot and duets his own video crying with the screenshot caption: SKALSBSKAJSL Erik comments: stop making tiktoks and answer the phone, hemmick. Nicky replies: yessir everyone below comments keyboard smashes and you got a good one. Goals. Lmao kids that's what we call bottom panic. We stan one healthy long distance relationship and after that a bunch of long distance relationship questions that he makes another video on.

• A video of Katelyn and neil chatting and it pans to the twins watching them with the *when worlds collide sound*

• He reposts a snippet of one of his interviews post game where he grabs the mic from the reporter and nicky: can I say something? Reporter: sure, go ahead. Nicky: thank you. *looks straight into the camera* all the birds died in 1986 due to Reagan killing them and replacing them with spies that are now watching us. The birds work for the bourgeoisie. Thank you." And leaves. IT GOES VIRAL INSTANTLY.

• Comment "is everyone else gonna forget that tiktok where he said he was already part of a controversy? We stan a problematic icon?" Video reply: guys I might have been part of a whole Twitter beef thing against my little hoodie and Bruce hallway but c'mon, like, c'mon you can't blame me.

• Comment "for neil: does the carpet match the drapes 👅😍?" Video reply: neil on selfie mode. "Allison gave me her phone, told me to answer this and ran away so umm." He reads the box on the screen and frowns he walks and stands next to the window, where Andrew is sitting down and is barely seen on frame. "uhmm, the internet is confusing. Our carpet is like this" he turns the phone and shows the floor (grayish carpet) and then back at him "but we don't have drapes so, technically they don't match, I dont know." Andrew's head goes up and simply says "Neil." Neil turns "what?" And the video ends.

• of course nicky and allison do the WAP dance, on the court, when they should be running drills.

[blueskrugs]

5 Times You Posted about Him, and One Time He Posted about You | Chris Kreider

I sent an anon to @kreiderrider​ way back at the end of April for Chris’ birthday and still haven’t stopped thinking about it, so apparently I’m writing it now. also for @bobohtuzzo​ for our never-ending loop of being mean to each other with Chris gifs.

TL;DR: this is Taylor’s fault for making me a Kreider girl, and and both hers Bayan’s fault for encouraging and enabling me.

length: 2.8k words

You knew when you started dating Chris that he was not social media’s biggest fan. And that was fine. You were hardly an influencer yourself, and you were pretty sure you followed more dogs than people on Instagram. So the pictures you took of Chris– Chris being cute, Chris doing mundane things, Chris with his bitchface on– stayed firmly in a locked album on your phone.

Until one day when you were sitting on the couch, leaning against Chris while he read a book, flipping through Instagram stories on your phone. One of your friends from high school had posted a cute picture with her boyfriend, and you paused to look at it. Chris rested his chin on your shoulder to peer at your phone. 

“They’re cute,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. You hummed in agreement. “How come you never post about me?”

You twisted around to look at him. “First of all, how do you even know that I don’t? Second of all, you want nothing to do with any sort of social media.” 

Chris flicked your nose. “Mika tells me things. And I don’t hate social media, I just don’t really get the point of it. Who the fuck cares what I’m doing every second of the day, who I got lunch with, where I got lunch? Anyway, I don’t really mind if you post about me every once in a while. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide our relationship just because I avoid Instagram like the plague.” Chris pressed a kiss to your forehead to punctuate his sentence. 

You settled back in against Chris, resuming your mindless scrolling, and looking forward to the first opportunity to show off your boyfriend. 

Chef Chris Chris loved to cook. Part of it came from his absolutely ridiculous diet, you knew, but he also enjoyed the quiet time that cooking gave him, a way to be productive without requiring a ton of energy. The kitchens in either of your apartments were often filled with the smell of something good, for lunches, for dinners on nights off, for a quick meal after a game. Chris rarely let you help him with anything, which was fine because you preferred to bake, and it let you watch him. 

There was something about watching Chris cook that you just adored. He would always end up so focused, a strange intensity in his eyes that resembled the look he sometimes got on the ice. But then you would say something– a stupid joke that you’d seen on the internet, a funny story from work, or a something ridiculous your dog had done that morning– and he would laugh, his eyes lighting up again, and his dimples showing. 

Tonight, Chris was standing over the stove making a risotto. You had begged him for it during a rare full weekend off at home for the Rangers, and he had finally conceded. One of your playlists was playing softly in the living room, and you were perched on a barstool at the island, your dog curled beneath your feet. You weren’t sure if he wanted to be close to you, or if he was just waiting for Chris to give him a piece of chicken. 

Chris was stirring the risotto intently, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth a little bit. You were already scrolling through your phone, so you couldn’t resist snapping a quick picture for your Instagram story, simply throwing an emoji of a chef in the corner.

You were checking the views on your story later that night and responding to the few people that had replied to it, when Chris saw your phone screen. 

“Hang on, gimme that,” he said, pausing the hockey game he was watching. “How did I not notice you take this?” He looked closer at your phone. “And how many fucking followers do you have, holy shit.”

You took your phone back, seeing that Brett Howden had asked why he didn’t get any dinner. “I got a bunch more after I started dating you,” you said. Chris looked concerned. “Don’t make that face, you dork. I don’t really care, and if I did, I could just make my account private.” 

Chris still looked a little alarmed at the number of people who had seen him cook dinner, but he turned back to the hockey game, anyway. 

Sing Us a Song There was a piano in Chris’ apartment. It was tucked away in the spare bedroom, and he avoided playing it when people were over, even when it was just the two of you. You had lamented that fact once, and Chris had said something about just wanting to spend all his time focused on you. You let it go, but that didn’t mean you weren’t dying to hear him play, especially since everyone who had could only compliment him.

It was nearly Christmas when you let yourself into Chris’ apartment with your spare key. The two of you had spent an entire weekend decorating, and the space was absolutely filled with Christmas spirit. You had been baking cookies, and you were dropping some off for Chris to bring home to Massachusetts and his family. You smiled as you heard the familiar chords of “Celebrate Me Home” echoing through the apartment. Your penchant for listening to Christmas music at all hours was beginning to rub off on Chris finally. You paused, though, when you realized that the voice drifting through the apartment was not Kenny Loggins, but Chris. 

You set the cookies and your purse down gently on a counter, kicking off your snow boots and quietly making your way through the apartment. You peered around the doorway of the spare bedroom. Chris’ back was to you, since the piano faced the windows looking out over the city, as he continued singing. You slipped your phone out of your coat pocket and began recording. You made sure to keep quiet as Chris began playing “The Christmas Song.” You stayed there for a minute longer before putting your phone away and walking into the room.

Chris jumped a little as you put your hand on his shoulder. “Your hands are freezing, Christ, Y/N. How long have you been here?”

You kissed his temple. “Sorry. Just came to drop off cookies and couldn’t resist listening to you for a while. I wish you’d sing for me more often.” Chris blushed all the way up to his ears. 

Later that night, back home and with a pie in the oven this time, you edited the videos you took a little bit and put them up on your Instagram story. You left it captionless.

Your DMs were soon filled with people commenting on how talented Chris was and begging for more videos of him. You screenshotted them all– maybe a little smugly– and sent them to Chris. All you got back was an emoji sticking its tongue out at you. 

Somewhere on a Beach There was absolutely nothing that you loved more than a good vacation. As the Rangers’ bye week approached, Chris was getting desperate to get out of the city, and you were looking forward to a week on a beach.

The Rangers won their last game before the break, and then the two of you were on a plane to Hawaii for some valuable time in the sun. Chris had found a rental with a private stretch of beach, and you both had bags full of books to read.

“Chris, you need to put on sunscreen!” you yelled as he walked across the sand, sunglasses perched on his nose and book in hand, on the first day. He had complained but let you cover him in sunscreen; he got burnt anyway. 

Mika made a crispy potato joke later that night in response to Chris’ whiny text. 

You got a couple good Instagram posts out of the vacation. One was simply pictures of you that you had made Chris take– “like a good Instagram boyfriend, babe” – plus a couple well-executed timer shots of both of you on the beach: sandy toes, sunburnt nose. The other was a small collection of photos you took of Chris throughout the week, in various positions in various chairs, all with a different book. Your favorite was the time you had caught him asleep on the beach, book still clutched precariously in his hand, mouth hanging open as he burned in the sun. I will never understand how he can read a book a day and still never run out of books, you had typed as a caption. 

Dog Lover Chris was sick. You were sure he had been fighting through shit for nearly two weeks but had been too stubborn to admit it, and he had finally hit a wall. You had caught him leaning heavily against the bathroom sink that morning, dizzy and nauseous, as he attempted to get ready for practice; it still took both you and Mika yelling at him, with more than one threat to call Quinn and/or his mother, before he agreed to stay home. 

You had forced him to at least eat a piece of toast before you let him collapse on the couch under most of the blankets you had in your apartment. You sent Mika a picture of Chris in his fever haze, zoned out while watching the morning news. 

You luckily had the day off, so you were able to stay close to your idiot boyfriend with a penchant for ignoring injury and illness. It started storming after you ate lunch, rain lashing against the windows and lightning lighting up the dark New York sky, shrouded with clouds. Chris was still slouched on one end of the couch, barely having moved all morning. You were sitting at the other end with a book, his feet in your lap and thumb idly rubbing circles on his ankle, having ignored Chris’ protests that you were going to get sick, too. 

Later, when you were making dinner, you peeked into your living room to check on Chris. He had thrown most of his blankets onto the floor, and he was sprawled out on his stomach, solidly asleep. Your dog had crawled up onto the couch with him and was laying protectively over Chris’ legs. You smiled at them before reaching for your phone to take a picture. 

First you sent it to Mika: “Sometimes I think he’s only dating me for my dog.” with an eye roll emoji. Mika laughed at that one. 

Then you posted it on your Instagram, this time with the caption everyone knows dog cuddles are the best medicine. Your replies were flooded with get-well wishes for Chris. 

Best Friends Everyone knew that Mika and Chris were pretty much inseparable, both on the ice and off of it. You and Irma had bonded over it one night, when what was supposed to be a nice double date devolved into Chris and Mika discussing the chances of various teams winning the Cup. It had only been November. 

You teased the two about their codependency, but honestly it was endearing. Mika ended up over for dinner more nights than not, and you texted him more than you texted your mom. Mika sometimes crashed movie nights at Chris’ apartment, and all three of you ended up in a tangled mess of limbs and blankets before the end of the night without fail. It was completely undeniable that Chris loved Mika, so it was inevitable that you loved Mika, too. 

The Rangers were having another outdoor practice in Central Park. You loved going to any practice, but the outdoor ones were especially fun to watch. It always seemed like half of New York showed up to watch, and the boys were always more energetic and idiotic than usual.

You hung around close to the boards behind one of the goals during practice. You got some good pictures of the boys warming up, including one particularly cute one of Artemi sticking his tongue out at you. As practice went on, you took more pictures as various Rangers sped past you. The best opportunity was when Chris scored a – frankly ridiculous, honestly – goal over Hank’s shoulder, set up perfectly by Mika. They slammed into the boards next to you in celebration, and you managed to snap a great angle of that smile Mika seemed to reserve specifically for Chris.

All of the WAGs and families were allowed onto the ice after practice ended. You carefully made your way over towards where Chris and Mika were lazily leaning against the boards near one of the benches, nearly running over tripping over Igor’s dog in the process when he ran in front of you, gleefully dragging a leash behind him. 

Chris was facing you, but he didn’t see you approach. You, however, could see the dorky grin he had aimed at Mika from where he was slouching against the wall. As you got closer, you took out your phone and snuck one more picture of the two of them.

You couldn’t resist posting those pictures of your boys. You made sure to tag Mika, adding on the caption someone tell me how I can get a boy to look at me the way Chris and Mika look at each other. 

Mika replied with an eye roll emoji and a blue heart. Irma replied with about five cry-laughing emojis. Chris just looked offended. 

His Turn Chris had managed to convince you to join him for a week in Connecticut, and you had managed to convince him to let you drive up. He grumbled about it all the way out of the city. 

You had your sunglasses on and your hair was loose around your shoulders. Chris’ phone was plugged into your aux, but he had turned on your own road trip playlist. (He complained about your taste in music most of the drive, too.) As you got closer to Connecticut, Chris rolled the windows down. Every once in a while, you glanced over at him, only to already find him watching you with a smile on his face, eyes crinkly and dimple showing. 

You were singing the words to a Taylor Swift song at the top of your lungs, laughing as the wind ripped the words from your throat and out the window, when Chris reached over and picked up your phone. You turned to look at him.

“Eyes on the road,” he scolded, still holding your now-unlocked phone. You raised an eyebrow but turned back to the highway in front of you. 

The song changed again, this time to a Queen song, and you laughed again. Chris started singing along with you, and you forgot that he had been taking a picture of you. 

Later that night, long after the sun set, you got a notification that you had been tagged in a new Instagram post, by @2kreids0. You squinted at your phone screen, confused. You were sitting out on the porch under the stars, and Chris had gone in for dessert (something still stupidly healthy– “It’s the offseason, Kreider!” you had protested) only a couple minutes before.

Still frowning a little, you tapped on the notification. A picture of yourself, with the sun in your face and hair blowing out the window, laughing, eyes bright underneath your sunglasses, filled your screen. It could only have been taken by Chris in your car earlier. You looked at the Instagram handle again.

“Hey, babe?” you called as Chris stepped back outside, trying to balance two bowls and two glasses of wine. He looked up at you. “Did you make an Instagram?” Chris blushed. You looked back at the picture, this time reading the caption below it: I’ll drive anywhere with you, just to hear you sing your favorite songs. 

Chris had moved to stand next to you, still blushing to the tips of his ears. “I might have.” You laughed, taking your glass of wine from Chris’ hand and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I thought you didn’t see the point?” you asked.

Chris shrugged. “I didn’t. Then you started posting pictures of me all the time, and I started to understand why people share the things they love for everyone to see.” 

“You’re a sap, Kreider,” you said, all fondness. You smiled at him from behind the rim of your wine glass as he took another picture of you. “Is this what I’m like?” you asked. Chris let out a surprised laugh. 

The next morning you were tagged again by Chris. You rolled your eyes. When you opened the notification, you saw the picture from the night before, but there was also a second one, one you didn’t know Chris had taken. It was of you, of course, but you were glaring at something on your phone over your coffee mug, glasses on and hair a mess. This time he had captioned it get you a girl who can do both. 

“Christopher!” You were already beginning to regret showing him exactly how to work Instagram the night before. As you heard Chris laughing his way down the stairs, though, you thought that you could really get used to it, even if Chris probably had some revenge posts in store for you. 

[echoweaver]

Your thoughts on the Sims 1-4

Guess I’m in the mood to do these. Grabbing a tag from @mosneakers​.

Sims 1: The big thing I remember about this game is that it could take your sim hours to cross from one end of the house to the other. Thus, if the sim got up at the normal one-hour-before-work, they often wouldn’t have time to both pee and eat. I got obsessed with designing and efficient house, with the kitchen right outside the bedroom door, so that my sims could get to work with the best mood. 

Then I let the garden go bad, and it would destroy my sims’ mood on the way to the carpool, and it took me forever to figure out what was going on :-D

Sim 2: I remember being thrilled by how much easier it was for sims to get around their house. The introduction of lifespans intrigued me. However, I hadn’t really figured out what I wanted to DO with this sandbox game yet. Playing Sims gets boring if you don’t have some kind of a goal. I’d never heard of a generational challenge, much less rotational gameplay, and I hadn’t plugged into the fan community yet.

I did dabble in mods -- mostly the mod to drastically increase the chance of a sim being abducted when using the telescope so I could make alien babies. I built a household from two CAS-built sisters who were of different races. One of them married a man, and the other a woman, and then I got frustrated that the lesbian couple couldn’t make babies. They adopted, but I was annoyed by how genetically boring their adopted son was. Then I got obsessed with trying to get one of the lesbians to cheat on her spouse to make a baby without being discovered. Where is artificial insemination when you need it?

Later, I created a new sim who married into the Broke family. I got bored and tried to starve Dustin to death to make a ghost. when I removed the door to his bedroom and his needs got very low, he got down on his knees to beg the Watcher for his life. I felt so guilty that I actually turned off the game and never went back!

Sims 3:  This is where it happened for me. Open world and a town that aged with my active household just better matches the way I imagine playing. I even figured out generational play, at least somewhat, before really plugging into the fan community.

I didn’t realize until reading @mosneakers and @natolesims‘s memes that there was so much hate floating around for Sims 3 art style! I admit that I do dislike the child faces. I thought Sims 2 faces were too long and thin. Sims 3 faces seem to have overcompensated by being just a bit too round. Otherwise, I’m quite sure I don’t know what you guys are talking about. LOL.

I don’t think I’d still be playing if it weren’t for NRaas, though. Sims 3′s open world was pretty ambitious, and their data management was totally not up to the task. I spent years offering tech support on people’s blogs when they started to suffer data corruption in generation 2 or 3. You just can’t play without at least minimal mods to clean up save files. It’s unintuitive that a modded game is more stable than vanilla, but it’s just true. Sad, but true.

Sims 4: I have played this very little, not because I hate it but because I am stubbornly determined to finish my 10-generation legacy. A lot of folks just rebuilt their household in Sims 4 and continued to play. At the time Sims 4 came out, I was playing supernatural-heavy games with custom skintones, so I’d lose almost everything if I ported them over. It also turns out that it’s hard to face going from a heavily-modded, 11-expansion experience to a game with base or just one expansion. I have a lot more sympathy for Sims 2 players who skipped Sims 3 entirely.

I have a hard time facing the color presets and closed world, but the game in its current state really seems to have done great things with gameplay. If/when I get the Samples done, I’ll take a look at making the switch. Of course, by then Sims 5 will likely be out, so maybe I’ll skip....

What is your favorite Expansion pack

Generations and/or Seasons. But it’s really hard to choose.

Small pets or Horses?

I really,  really love Sims 3 horses. Since I’m modding pets, it can probably be guessed that I like the animals in general :).

What is your favorite active career?

Yes.

I have had a ton of fun with almost all active careers. If forced to choose, I might go for firefighter.

What is your favorite Lifetime Wish?

Buh. I really dug the Photography one I guess. I just like doing different ones.

Whims or Wants?

I’m sorry. I have no idea what this question even means (blush).

What is your favorite Occult?

I feel like all the occults in TS3 are kind of underdeveloped. That said, witches are pretty cool.

Cowplants, Bonehilda, or the Social Bunny?

Bonehilda

How do you pick your sims names?

I am absolutely OBSESSED with names. I’m sorry I only got to name one flesh-and-blood child, so I let it all out in naming my simmies. I get into the head of the parent(s) and come up with lists from whatever they would like. My saves are very gameplay-directed, and tend to randomize most traits, so I intentionally don’t build a sim to a name or try to make a sim’s name suit their personality at all. After all, when we name our children, we get no say over who they eventually become :).

Do you create a spouse for a sim, or do you go after a townie?

Townie! My gaming style is heavily gameplay-oriented. I want my sims to choose their partner using wishes and attraction and whatever else the game provides. However, I also am incredibly interested in genetic experimentation, so I do allow myself to change the physical appearance of some sims before making babies with them if they are too bland. I populated my Samples save from scratch, largely using downloaded simalikes of real people. I have NRaas set to use existing sims in the town or in my sim bin, to generate new ones. So basically I do my best to have the most interesting genetics pool I can so I don’t need to edit faces.

Do you prefer to follow storytelling Simblrs, or do your prefer gameplay Simblrs?

I’m not totally sure what this is asking either :-D. Are “storytelling” simblrs the ones that largely use the game as an artistic medium for screenshots using poses and whatnot? My play style is to play the game and build stories from it, so I’m not entirely sure what category I fall into myself.

I suppose it doesn’t matter because I follow both. I’m not terribly drawn to dressup challenges and lookbooks.

What year did you join Tumblr/Simblr?

I have absolutely no friggin idea. I tried to look back in my email archive to track notifications, and that failed. I came back after three years, so it has to be at least for years before I returned....?

[nbrook29]

11 goofy kiss pls<33

4, 7 for Sobbe omg👀💫👀💫 your talent kgnfjfnlfkf ...

Can you do 15 or 20? Or both for sobbe

Sooo this isn't really on the list of prompts but maybe you could write something about Robbe being totally obsessed with Sander's pouty bottom lip - whenever he sees it he has to pounce on it and kisses/bites/touches/pulls on it. Sander is either turned into a wreck or he teasingly indulges Robbe's obsession 

Hi! :)

based on But do you REALLY want the K?

Goofy kiss + Eyelid kiss + Distract kiss + Shut up kiss + Asker’s Choice

In hindsight, Robbe should have seen it coming.

When his school announced that they had received funding to organize free 6-month workshops for their students and local college students after hours, it got his interest right away. Especially when it turned out that the offered courses focused on more niche subjects.

Robbe has always felt some inexplicable fascination with Scandi culture, Norwegian in particular. In fact, ever since he discovered the multiverse theory he’s been half-convinced there must be a Norwegian version of him existing somewhere out there, which would explain this unusual interest of his. 

So when he was scanning the list of available courses and his eyes caught Norwegian 101, his heart beat a little faster and he giddily signed up right away.

And then Sander signed up too, claiming that a) if there’s a Norwegian version of Robbe there must be a Norwegian version of Sander too, thank you very much, so it is his duty to learn a little bit of his alter ego’s language, and b) it’s going to be a perfect opportunity for them to make up for the fact that they didn’t experience being in high school together. He’s always all pouty when he talks about it, mourning all those lost opportunities of them making out against a window sill in biology classroom or having secret meetings in the bathroom during class and demands compensation in the form of extra long makeout sessions in Robbe’s bed. 

Robbe doesn’t exactly mind, neither the joint classes nor kissing the pout away, which always effectively shuts him up. Quite the contrary actually. Ever since Sander texted him a screenshot of the participants list with DRIESEN SANDER under D, he’s been all hyped up at the prospect of the two of them studying together. 

His friends don’t exactly understand why he’s willing to spend his free time in their school building but at least Yasmina shows interest in the workshops as well, signing up for a few, Norwegian included.

He and Sander are the first ones to arrive to the Monday session, and when Sander notices that the classroom is still empty he wiggles his eyebrows grinning at Robbe cheekily, spins him around in a swift move and pins him to the window sill, his hands going around his thighs to make him sit down on it. 

“Is this everything you dreamed about and more?” Robbe chuckles at the delighted look on Sander’s face, legs snaking around his waist to hold him tighter.

“Yes, I got you right where I want you,” he replies smugly and doesn’t wait another second before pressing a tiny kiss to his lips, then another one, and another, until Robbe makes a soft noise of protest making Sander finally give in and kiss him properly, dipping his tongue past his lips in no time. Robbe lets one of his hands slip down, making his path down his back over the black denim jacket, stopping barely above Sander’s belt, and then without second-guessing himself goes down even lower to give his butt a firm squeeze, because it’s just so... deliciously squeezable.

They only break apart when they hear someone clearing their throat and when Robbe catches the sight of Yasmina regarding them with amusement, he quickly disentangles himself from Sander, wiping at his mouth with poorly hidden embarrassment. Sander is unfazed, as always, turning around with a swagger and shooting Yasmina one of his most charming smiles. She’s not a sucker for it though, contrary to Robbe, so she just fondly rolls her eyes shaking her head at their antics.

The classroom starts to fill in quickly after and before they realize the only empty seats left are placed in the back. Only Yasmina manages to snatch herself one closer to the front. Sander graciously allows Robbe to take the only unoccupied spot in the sixth row and he himself marches over to row eight.

The first hour and a half flies by and Robbe is having more fun than he anticipated. The teacher, Vilde, is young, she’s quirky in that positive way and her approach to the subject differs from what Robbe is used to during his regular classes. 

He takes notes diligently and tries to participate as much as possible but he struggles with pronunciation when asked for reading a few words out loud. When Vilde asks Sander to read them, he does it with flying colors, the jerk, and the girl is so impressed that she calls him a natural, praising his perfect pronunciation of “engelsk” and “kjole” while smiling a bit too much and too wide at him. In Robbe’s humble opinion. 

Once she goes back to writing on the board, he turns around to see Sander giving him a shit-eating grin so he does the only right thing in this situation and sticks his tongue out at him.

They are two hours in when Robbe gets hit in the ear with a small paper ball which then lands perfectly in the middle of his notebook. He throws a glance at the obvious suspect but Sander seems to be deep into copying the grammar rules from the board to his MacBook. 

His elegant handwriting gives him away though.

Du er digg 🖤

Vilde mentioned that last word just five minutes ago, more as a fun fact than anything else but of course Sander caught and remembered it.

He’s fighting against the beaming smile that threatens to take over his face because he doesn’t want to look like a lunatic to everybody around. Sander isn’t bothered by things like that though so when Robbe looks at him again he’s resting his chin on his hand, staring at him unabashedly with a grin of his own as he notices the flush on Robbe’s cheeks.  

He tells him as quietly as he can to quit distracting him to which Sander raises his arms in surrender and with a feigned-serious expression busies himself with the given exercise. If Robbe then tucks the note into the back of his notebook no one needs to know.

Not even a full five minutes pass when another paper ball lands on his desk. Robbe heaves a long-suffering sigh and raises his eyes to the heavens because yes, now he has to deal with a rebel of a boyfriend.

When he straightens out the note, he snorts.

Do you like me? 

Circle YES or NO

🖤

Seems like Sander is having lots of fun acting out this high school romance fantasy. 

He decides to indulge him and reaches for a red ink pen to circle YES. Then, he adds a bunch of crooked hearts (because he’s not the artist in this relationship) on a whim. Once he makes sure Vilde isn’t looking in their direction, he throws the note back to Sander, but not without catching the disapproving look from Yasmina who rolls her eyes so hard Robbe is surprised they aren’t stuck. He just shrugs at her without remorse. 

Sander opens the paper ball as delighted as a child opening their Christmas gift and when he sees the answer he pretends to swoon in his chair, blowing him a long kiss from above his notes.

“Sander, I think you should be paying attention.” Vilde’s reproach pulls Robbe from gazing at his boyfriend like a love-struck puppy and he immediately shoots him a cheeky grin because it’s just really satisfying to watch him being scolded by a teacher.  

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” Sander clears his throat as he straightens on his chair before he glances at his laptop and adds with a smirk, “Or, rather, Du har rett, Vilde.”

Then he winks at her and his confident demeanor clearly succeeds to appease her because she starts to wax lyrical about his oh so amazing pronunciation again.

Ugh. What a show off.

Though, Robbe has to admit that it sounds kinda hot when he speaks Norwegian but it’s not like he’s going to go and tell him that. Instead, he reaches for his phone to shoot him a quick text.

R: You’re such a teacher’s pet oh my god

R: Also stop flirting with her, she’s seconds away from swooning 

S: Are we jealous?

R: Yes, very, I’m worried you’re gonna run away to norway with her and have viking children together 🤭

S: 😘

There is no bell signaling the end of the class but at 17:15 Vilde thanks them for today’s lesson and everybody starts to pack and gradually leave. Robbe is shoving his stuff into his backpack when he feels fingers in his hair pulling his head back without real force to angle it better. Then, Sander places a big loud smooch on his lips making him giggle and swipe at him lightly.

“You’re such a dork.”

He reaches to put the strands hanging over his forehead back in their place, scratching at his scalp a little and when Sander leans into the touch, closing his eyes with a pleased purr, he stands on his tiptoes and presses a tiny kiss to his left eyelid, which earns him one of Sander’s sweetest smiles. 

Once his bag is packed, they leave the classroom with their index fingers entwined, swaying their hands a little as they walk. “So, did you like that class?” 

Sander nods. “Yeah, it was cool. You?”

“You know, I thought those three hours are gonna be a bitch but it was actually pretty fucking nice.”

Sander pushes his tongue in his cheek, wiggling his eyebrows at him. “And did you like my notes?”

Robbe pretends to scrunch up his face, trying not to laugh at Sander’s offended huff. “Hey! Well, okay then, if you’re like that I’m not gonna send you any next time.”

He juts out his bottom lip and honestly, it’s Robbe’s kryptonite, and he’s long made peace with a fact that he’s weirdly obsessed with it; it’s just so plush and enticing and he has spent hours upon hours kissing and biting it, the fact that it made Sander go weak in the knees for him an additional bonus.

So Robbe uses it against him to distract him from pouting, and this time it’s him who pushes Sander against the wall close to the school exit. He pulls their bodies together, delighted at the surprised hitch in Sander’s breath when he sticks out his tongue to drag it along his bottom lip, pulling it with his teeth to nip it a little, to then soothe the sting with his tongue again. He can feel his ministrations are starting to work and with each second Sander is turning into a pile of goo in his arms. 

A voice in the back of his head tells him the school corridor is probably not the best place for this so he eventually pulls back and drags him away from the wall to the school yard. Sander follows him but not without half-hearted protests that stop only when Robbe kisses him hard to shut him up in the middle of the school yard.

“Come on, there’s a bed in my room with our names on it and my mom works until 20 tonight.”

“Is there a shower with our names on it too?”

“If you’re good,” Robbe pretends to think about it, “then I guess that can be arranged.”

[discotenny]

!Bungo Stray Brothers!

Ranpo and Poe with a little sister

!requested by @maibeff!

This is long overdue sorry djfjdk. I accidentally posted this last night oopsie >.> trying something new w the banners

Okay so I know that everyone says Ranpo would be a really lazy brother, and he still is don’t get me wrong, butttt Ranpo would be a top-notch sibling

During the time of your parents’ deaths, you were barely a teenager. At the prior advice of your late parents, he dragged you to Yokohama, where the two of you now reside. Through the years, Ranpo filled the void left by your parents, guiding and teaching you as they once did. Well, trying his best to do so anyways

Despite his attitude aimed at many, Ranpo is quite caring towards you. He’s constantly checking up on your wellbeing, whether through texts or casual conversation. Sometimes, he’ll even do that thing where a person messes up someone's hair with their hand in passing

While not as athletic as his coworkers, Ranpo can still put up some of a fight. Thus, he will absolutely try to fight anyone that attempts to mess with his dear sister

He thinks the world of you, and you’re one of the few people he’ll give some of his oh so coveted praise to

Your relationship with Fukuzawa is very friendly. While he’s a father figure to Ranpo, he’s more of a grandfather character to you since you don’t see him as much

Ranpo insists you visit the ADA offices often, and so you also have friendly relations with the rest of the members. Though Ranpo warns you not to get deeply involved with Dazai for some reason 🤔

With any romantic partner you have, he wants to have a one on one talk with them to discern if they’re a good enough person for you. Though an issue he has is that he judges everyone to his standards, and his standards are high

Household chores are a big no-no when it comes to Ranpo, and often you’ll be forced to literally lay the vacuum on him if you want him to do shit

Your fridge is always empty due to both you and Ranpo’s negligence when it comes to grocery shopping. It becomes a daily occurrence for you two to text each other back and forth begging for the other to purchase some groceries on their way home

Y/n: Ranpoooo can you pls pick up some eggs after work? We also need [insert shopping list of items]

Five minutes later...

Ranpo: Hey y/n can you pick up [insert a screenshot of the shopping list from your message] on your way home

When the time comes for you to move out, Ranpo tries his best not to cry as he hugs you before you go. Being the only family he has left in the world, your departure affects him a lot. Afterward, Ranpo ends up learning how to manage the trains by himself just so he can visit you all by himself ~

A sibling who’s a student [around a high schooler, so let’s say 18]

He’s always making comments on your homework being ‘too easy,’ and will sometimes do some problems on your worksheets out of pure boredom

Ranpo would absolutely help you cheat with assignments

For a small fee of course... that fee coming in the form of snacks

As Ranpo serves as your legal guardian, he’s the one that has to sign all your school papers. Most of the time he leaves you stressed, messed, and upset as he always lets forms go unsigned until the very last minute

Despite being a student, you still end up cooking for the two of you most of the time

If you go to the convenience store after your school day, Ranpo always texts you. One, to check up on you. And two, to make sure you buy him a bag candy

When you don’t walk straight home from school, chances are you head your way towards the detective agency. When you do so, Ranpo is calling you over to his desk and tells you do work on your homework beside him. Even if you don’t have homework Ranpo will still tell you to sit at his desk just so he can keep some eye on you

When the ADA closes up for the day, you two end up eating out at a cafe somewhere. No exceptions, this happens every time

If it weren’t for his height, most would assume that Poe was the younger of you two

If anyone were to attempt to hurt this babby, you’d likely be the one sticking up for him. He felt awful and weak during any kind of occurrence like this, and often would hideaway for a bit after

While he’s not particularly strong, Poe is an amazing listener and will hear you out with any struggles you have at the moment. He would even tell Karl to curl up in your lap, a small sign of his trust towards you

In turn, when he becomes upset over his loss to Ranpo, you’re there right by his side after to cheer him up. Even when he shuts off all personal connections after his crushing defeat, you still check up on him to make sure he hasn’t withered away  

You’re his biggest supporter and vise versa

Poe is r i c h. If your family didn’t come from wealth before, you bet your ass that he shares his coin with you. Though, you feel a bit bad for accepting the large amounts of money he sends you. But, your brother persists that its just pay back for all of your support

When Poe got Karl at the age of 10 [let’s just say he got him at 10 because raccoons live up to an average of 20 years domesticated], he would do everything in his power to make sure the two of you got along. Eventually, you warmed up to his new pet and Poe couldn’t be happier

Growing up, you were always by his side. Seeing as he’s quite sensitive and timid, you would cling to him in order to watch out for any possible detriments to your brother’s happiness. Sticking to his side most of your childhood, you grew a fondness for all the stories he would write

When he first discovered his ability, you and Poe would spend hours exploring the world of different books. While he may have not been into the kind of books you would read as a youngling, everything was worth it if he got to see you smile

You two would also have sleepovers in his room. Dragging a blanket and pillow to his door, you’d ask if you would be allowed to sleep in his bedroom for the night. Despite it surprising him each time, Poe would never deny your request 

With blankets, Karl, and pillows strewn around the room, Poe would excuse himself to the kitchen to make the two of your some tea. You’d almost always fall asleep next to your brother as he drafted new stories

When Poe gets involved with The Guild, the first thing you worry about his his safety. Then he gets upset at the fact that he’s worried you and ends up calling you, frantically apologizing and hoping you won’t dislike him. The last thing he wants in life is your disapproval ;-;

While you hold no issue with The Guild’s ‘activities’ [more so you don’t know about their crimes], you make your brother promise you that he’d be careful

On his leave to Japan and subsequent announcement that he’d stay there indefinitely, you’re already making plans to visit him one day

His sister comes to Japan

Your visit is a surprise, even if you have been messaging him about it for weeks

Y/n: Edgar! I’m leaving for Japan tomorrow morning so I’m going to have to sleep early tonight. 

Poe spits out his tea

Edgar: Yourecomingtojapanwhat? 

Of course, he picks you up, what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t?

Seeing you at the airport, Poe can’t contain his smile. While you two don’t hug, Poe is ecstatic to see you and can’t wait to show you around. Karl is in the car and he immediately jumps onto you when you come in

When he introduces you to Ranpo, you can’t help but hold a little grudge. Cmon, this was the man that caused your dear brother to become a recluse for years! Though Poe sees your hesitation and encourages you that all blood is fine between the two. After seeing how happy your brother becomes at Ranpo’s company, you admit that he isn’t awful

Your time in Japan is spent talking with Poe and Ranpo most of the time. While it’s mostly chilling in the detective agency, your brother’s friend ends up dragging the two of you around to different cafe’s 

Once, Ranpo asked if you knew of the chaos that The Guild caused in Japan. It’s the one time he’s ever seen and heard Poe so panicked as he screamed ‘I wasn’t involved’

Wouldn’t it be funny if you and Ranpo fell into a relationship

Hrjdksks apologies these are too long ;-; I liked writing these so there may be a bit of incoherence throughout... Also I haven’t posted in a week oops. Thank you for your kind words Mai ! All the love in the world for you 💕

I hope you enjoyed anyways, and apologies for any future disappointment

[danteinthedevildom]

A Royal Pajama Party “Analysis” - Part 5 (of 7)

This one is slightly shorter one this time. It’s time to conclude one aspect of the Devilgram - the romantic route. And yes, that absolutely includes the “all night long” screenshot. So it’s a bit more dorky this time. 

Of course, this once again goes into content locked by Story Keys, so here’s your cursory spoiler warning!

Before we go into the truly romantic stuff, I want to hop on these two screenshots for a moment. 

The way Diavolo says this is... wistful. It’s awed. It’s satisfied. He’s so genuinely, perfectly content with this night you’ve shared together simply because you were there to make it special. 

Because spending time with you makes him happy. Because he’s had one wonderful night laughing and having fun with someone he loves. 

This is what’s most important to him. Whether you’re romantically inclined towards him or purely platonic, the part he cherishes is how you’ve made him feel. How light and warm; how special and loved. 

He adores this night because it’s an experience he’s always desperately longed for. Because it’s a memory he’ll never forget; this gleeful time spent together, being Diavolo, the demon, with his most important person. 

It didn’t need to be the most amazing night in the world - didn’t need to be the most exciting time spent doing the most thrilling things - because that’s not what mattered. It just had to be genuine. It just had to be you. 

Of course... you’re now given the opportunity to choose whether you see Diavolo romantically or not. For this post, I’ve chosen the romantic route -  but fret not. The platonic route is in the next post!

(Well. It’s a sort of dual-toned route, admittedly. It’s more platonic than what you’re about to read, but can still be read as romantic. But I’ll go over that better when we get to it next time.)

If you’re wondering: this is the cut-off point in the Devilgram. You either kiss him, or you tell him “no funny business” and he says he’d just like to hug you.

In other words: you’re the one who initiates this moment of romantic intimacy with him. He won’t take that step first; he lets you decide where your comfort lies, and whether or not that includes something more. 

It’s your choice. This is a very, very important part of this entire Devilgram. Throughout the evening, Diavolo gives you choices; whether or not you want to watch the movie, whether you win or lose your game of Jenga; whether you read or eat fruit; whether it’s platonic or romantic. He has you exactly where he wants you, and yet he’s learnt from his past mistakes. 

He knows that he can’t tie you down to him and expect you to be happy. He’s tried it with Barbatos, with Lucifer, and he’s only all too aware how forcing that bond has made it impossible to get truly close to them. They’re by his side, but he’s still disconnected from them. They stayed, but physical proximity doesn’t equate to actual love or friendship. 

So, Diavolo lets you choose. At no point are you trapped in this Devilgram. You’re not tricked into spending time with him; he openly invites you over for the night, and you willingly go. You’re not told what to do; he gives you a list of things he’d enjoy, and lets you decide whether or not you go through with them. You’re not forced to be close to him; he asks if he can hold your hand, or sit closer, or feed you fruit, and at every turn you’re able to reject him without issue. 

The most pushy he gets is with the Jenga game, deciding that the loser has to pay a penalty - but even then, the worst he does is ask you to pull a silly face, and encourage you if you’re embarrassed. He keeps his word if he loses, too. So even in this moment of requirement, he keeps it equal. 

Diavolo’s grown from the lonely boy desperate to keep people beside him no matter the cost. He’s grown from the boy who thought that tethering someone to his side meant they’d eventually come to like him. He’s grown, and changed, and while he’s making it clear that he wants to know you better - be closer to you, be more to you - he’s willing to accept your rejection. 

(Because he knows what it’s like to be beloved, now. He knows that there’s a difference in having someone close and being close to someone. He knows that he’s only gotten this far by letting you decide, and he knows that he won’t get any further if he tries to take that choice from you now.

He knows that your time together will be empty if you feel like you have to be there. He knows that it means more when, upon granting you the choice, you happily choose him.)

That said, when it comes to what Diavolo wants... This scene - this moment of decision - makes it fairly clear that, more than anything, he just wants you closer to him. He wants to end this wonderful, happy, amazing night holding you in his arms.

That’s what he wants his final memory of the night to be. 

However he feels towards you - whether you believe him to host romantic feelings for you regardless of your feelings towards him, or whether you believe he only hosts those feelings if you return them - he just wants to bask in this contact and intimacy (romantic, sexual, or platonic) you’ve afforded him. 

For Diavolo, touch-starved, lonely, isolated prince that he is, that’s enough. 

If you kiss him, it’s an added bonus; a joy he's longed for, but couldn’t ask for. But, in both routes, this is what matters most. 

Being able to savour having you close. Knowing you’re content to be that close to him. That you want to be that close to him.

That, no matter which way it goes, you chose him.  

Of course, if we truly focus on the romantic aspect of it, now that we’ve covered the dividing factor...

(I fucked up. I took the screenshot too early because I was trying to capture the sparkles. It’s meant to say “makes me feel a love unlike any other”, I think.)

If you choose to kiss him, he says this. So please excuse me for a moment as I go back through an adorable ramble, alongside your regularly scheduled analysis.

Though I will note first, very quickly:

Solmare often leads towards the idea that all characters are at least a little in love with you no matter how you are towards them. It’s the best way to ensure all the characters get attention, and all players are able to have moments with their favoured love interest, without feeling as if the attraction has come out of nowhere. That said, I also think it’s nice to have a more compartmentalised experience for the people who just want to be friends with them without having to deal with unrequited feelings. 

Therefore, as this only happens in the route where you choose to kiss him, it’s entirely up to you to decide what this means. Whether Diavolo, across all timelines, is in love with you, requited feelings or not (and is, in this moment, fervently happy that you love him too), or whether his romantic feelings are exclusive to timelines wherein you are romantic with him.

It’s not entirely important considering this is the romantic route, so he’s obviously going to be in love with you either way, but I thought it’d be a good thing to note for next time as well - and so people can generally just look through the screenshots seeing whichever option appeals to them most. 

All of that said and out of the way, 

This is cute. This is truly, impossibly cute. 

He’s dreamt of this. He’s thought about kissing you, perhaps the entire night, perhaps even before this night, hoping, longing for it to happen - hoping he means as much to you as you do to him. Hoping you’d want to kiss him, too.  

When Diavolo’s close to you, he feels love. He loves you, and in turn, he feels loved. With how isolated he was, with how isolated he still is - he’s very likely never had a sweetheart before. Not one he could hold the way he can hold you. Not one he can cherish the way he cherishes you. 

Whether or not he’s been loved by someone he loves as well - or, the reverse; whether he’s loved someone who loves him in return - we can’t say for certain. But I’d lean towards him having not had that experience, either, considering everything he’s said across Devilgrams and in the main game. (He barely has any friends, after all; it’s highly unlikely for him to have found requited love, if he can’t even claim to have more than two friends, neither of whom he feels wholly confident are his friends by choice). 

This is new to him. This feeling - the feeling you make him feel - is new, and wonderful, and he adores it. Why wouldn’t he? It means he’s finally found someone who’s gotten close enough for him to develop feelings for; someone who’s seen all of him and decided he’s good enough to love. 

This is more than he’s ever had. This is maybe more than he ever thought he’d have, his friendless childhood considering. And it’s all because of you. 

His first friend. His first love. 

And the infamous “Diavolo rails you” sequence. 

It’s admittedly more romantic than just the final screenshot lets on. You’ve given him something beyond his wildest dreams. Not only have you stayed the entire night - given him a night he’ll always remember, a night filled with laughter and love - but you’re giving him even more. You’re in his bed, pressed against him, kissing him (without him having to ask!). The extent of feeling he has to be going through... immense likely doesn’t cover it. A night of wonders he’s only ever dreamt of, and he has you all to himself till dawn. 

I won’t go further than that, since that is very much treading into NSFW territory, and it feels a little redundant to cover it when it’d mostly be headcanon and speculation anyway - but I will say, at least, that I wouldn’t be surprised if the night were spent with whispered confessions and desperate, clinging holds. 

+++

And so we’re done with part 5! We’re almost at the end, but honestly, there’s still a fair amount left to cover. Hopefully this post was enjoyable! I’m admittedly unsure if it’s too short... but it feels right to end it there.

The next set of screenshots go over the platonic route. It’s admittedly not as platonic as it could be - there’s still some very easy-to-read romantic overtones - but it’s significantly less romantic/saucy than this one. It feels right to consider it the platonic option, therefore, which will make more sense when we get to it. 

With that said, if you’d like, lets continue this journey into part 6.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Every Now and Then - Chapter 4

Summary: “It’s a simple case of not enough versus taking what you can get. Sometimes she sees him for a day or two, then not again for almost half a year.” Relationships are hard. When one person is a world-wide superstar and both people are idiots, they get that much harder. They both take what they can get, but eventually that may not be enough.

Warnings: Two large dollops of smut, a half-cup of angst divided, several pinches of language, dash of loneliness, and a good sprinkle of lack of communication. Fold ingredients together gently, bake at 200c fan for 20 minutes, then serve piping hot from the oven.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: So many, many thanks to @glassjacket and @thoughtslikeaminefield for endless cheers and edits and more cheers. I love you both. Thank you to @there- for the lovely image (and all the many wonderful choices you gave me to pick from). Please excuse my slang terms if I got them wrong. I did a lot of internet research but was too self-conscious to ask an actual British person for advice.

In case you missed it: Chapter 3 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

…

Every Now and Then

Chapter 4

She loves when he lets his kink out to play. Maybe it’s their inside joke about Julia Child. Maybe it’s that he’s a foodie at heart. Maybe he just knows he has one of the world’s most talented tongues, and he likes to be excellent at what he does, but he quite enjoys licking things off various parts of her. He also enjoys finding new ways to eat his food provocatively during dinners, manipulating tongue, teeth, and lips around food in such intimate, profane ways that she feels morally obligated to use physical force to stop him.

“No one should be able to make cheese and crackers that sensually, you abomination! What is wrong with you?!”

He grins around a mouthful of his current culinary casualty, a look of such smug satisfaction on his face that she is forced to stifle her own smile lest he become too saturated in his powers of persuasion.

He likes to work her over in other ways, often employing toys and tools much to her delight and exhaustion, and she finds new and little ways to enjoy herself every time they try something different. The silky slick of a new lubricant he brings over. The obscene schlikt of her new INA Wave as he pulls it from between her legs while she trembles with aftershocks. The glossy sheen of her own arousal saturating his facial hair as he slithers up the plane of her body to capture her lips in a kiss.

And, of course, he is master of simple, animalistic fucking.

“Did you know,” she asks casually, her breath catching in stops and goes as he thrusts into her from behind. Her fingers slip against the wall, and he anchors her firmly against his chest with an impossibly tight arm across her torso.

God, she loves the way her tits bounce on his bicep when he holds her like that.

“Did you know they’ve got a nickname for your penis on Tumblr?”

That actually gives him pause for a moment, though thankfully on a thrust and not a drawback.

“Do they, now? Do I want to know?”

He resumes his efforts, albeit much more casually, as if he’s actually interested in the conversation. She’s not fooled by his nonchalance, however, as his free hand is currently working its way between her legs, brushing against her clit in time to his newly-slowed thrusts.

“It’s...erm…”

And suddenly, for the first time in a long time, she is actually embarrassed to tell him something and wonders why she even brought it up in the first place. She knows the moment he realizes the source of her reluctance, and she can literally feel the grin spread across his face where it rests on her shoulder.

“Is it that bad, love? Shall I work it out of you?”

“Well, I didn’t-”

His sudden absence from all around her lasts less than a second before his fingers wrap around her ankle, pulling her back so sharply she winds up on her stomach and face in the tangle of sheets beneath them. Before she can protest, his scorching weight is pressing down the length of her, the tip of his cock nudging between her ass cheeks, and his lips course over her shoulder and along her cheek.

“Come, darling, don’t you think you should confess before I make things too...hard on you?”

She’s not sure if her groan is from the pun or from his fingers dragging her own slick up the cleft of her ass to press on the tight ring of muscle.

“I will...never...talk. You can’t-”

“Oh, I assure you, pet, I absolutely can.” Her wail nearly drowns him out as he presses his thumb inside her, stretching her around the slender digit. He works her slowly, whispering promised rewards and threats alike, and she babbles like an idiot, only just keeping enough control of her tongue to not tell him exactly what he wants to hear.

Even when he is fully sheathed in her ass, dragging her up on hands and knees, she just manages to not say that one stupid word that made her blush so. And then he presses the Wave into her hand, murmuring, “If I’m to break you properly, pet, I’d appreciate a little help. Give that a buzz, would you?”

It’s a near thing, but she is just able to keep from telling him the nickname, though she does tell him a great many other things. They lie together afterwards, spent and shattered in the best way, his chest hair tickling her shoulder blades. She takes a deep breath, buries her face in her hands and forces herself to say it.

“They call it what?!”

When he is finally able to breathe past the laughter, he manages to ask, “Why? Why in the world would that even be a thing? I’ve not done any nude shoots; there aren’t any pictures, at least no full frontals. Near things, like High Rise, but still.”

She squirms back into his embrace, pulling his arms tightly around her and enjoying the jostling effect of his continued chuckles.

“It’s all those tight trousers you wear, that and the shoot you did in the little white boxers. You can quite clearly see the outline. Oh, and that one film where you jump naked in the pool. People take screenshots, love, and do forensic breakdowns; they’re quite thorough. And, really, that’s what the internet is for, after all, aside from cats. Memes and dick jokes. And sometimes dick memes.”

“And there are really whole blogs dedicated to watching for me in tight trousers to see...Really?!”

Another thing she loves: despite his salacious mastication habits, a propensity for cunnilingus like no one she’s ever known, and a voice that nearly makes her climax on command, he can’t even say aloud that the internet has him on a cock-watch. ...

Chapter 5 (last chapter)