#i don't fully know where i'm going but it's OKAY we will FIGURE IT OUT!!!

[liesineyes]

Okay, now that I took that off my chest, here's some episode six thoughts -

- Charlie backhanding Willy and Babe struggling to hold him back was exactly what I was expecting. But honestly it is crazy how the show totally glosses over sexual assault. Like they want to go extreme but without taking any accountability.

- Honestly, the sexual assault was 101% Willy's fault but Babe is also at fault (not the sa) for hiding all of this from Charlie, sneaking around to text Willy and all and then removing his ring and showing himself as though he is available to Willy knowing well that Willy has been constantly pushing his boundaries from day one. I mean I am not sure what Babe was expecting would happen, like what exactly was his plan? Show Willy he is interested and then Willy would tell his special sense and Babe would be like 'you bitch I was just playing you?'

- The whole Babe trying to explain but with 'I had my reasons' 'I didn't go further' like sir, you removed your ring to show yourself as available and then instead of explaining you are hitting Charlie with 'you don't give me time, I am lonely' what were the writers thinking writing such dialogues from Babe in this context?

Alan asking Babe to apologise to Charlie and Babe:

I don't know if I want to mirror Alan's expression or laugh at the absurdity. Though Pavel crying made me want to jump through the screen and hug Babe.

- I'm glad Jeff is reasoning with Charlie about Babe's decisions better than Babe explained himself because Charlie needed to hear that to cool down.

- Also, Okay. OKAY. Kim casually feeding Kenta? I am sorry!? Did I just see that? Like he made food for Kenta canonically and then fed him with his own two hands!? I am completely and fully sane about this (no I am not.)

- Pete trying and failing, I swear he is setting himself up for being dumped by Chris. Also the fact even Pete knows why Charlie wants this drug to work but the show implies Babe thinks Charlie doesn't think of him at all when he does something. (Also I want to talk' about how Babe actually didn't think of Charlie's feelings when he accepted the bet with Willy with his own ass on bet. Or when he followed after Willy, in the sauna so Charlie saying that actually made sense but Babe? I am sorry that was such a misfit dialogue from Babe because Charlie doesn't even have much of a personality beyond Babe - in the show only though)

The communication gap between them is stressing me out. How is it that everyone but these two idiots know about each other!?

- Sonic-North - I thought these guys were supposed to serve me friends to lovers but I am kinda disappointed with their story's progression. Feels like every couple is getting more than them, but this is what happens when you so many couples.

- I'm probably going to be the minority here but I think Alan is not a good captain at all. He is a good father figure/friend to them but the fact he is always like team team team but the only plan he has is where everyone helps Babe win the race. Be it Dean, Kim, North or Charlie. Anyone who tries to overtake Babe on the race track, Alan immediately goes into 'It is a team, you have to think of the team, cover for Babe, let Babe take the lead'. Like I genuinely have zero idea about racing cars, so I can be wrong but like if it was one person, I would understand but there's four now. Alan needs to figure out if he can even provide equal opportunities to all his team members or they are there just to cover up for Babe so Babe could win.

- I'm not surprised Willy is with Tony but I've a feeling he might flip sides like Kenta later on? He did look rattled on hearing Tony say take everyone around Charlie down.

- And Charlie is a weak weak man when it comes to Babe (I mean who wouldn't be? Babe should be bubbled wrapped and protected all the time.) But can we talk about them fucking the first chance they get to talk properly? like ✨ communication✨

This is getting way too long, okay I will stop here. But I liked this episode if you ignore the bad writing at places.

[thebramblewood]

Julia Zhao in The Mystery of the Copperdale Creep

Previous / Next

Julia's Playlist: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Location and music overlays by @pxltown

Julia: [lowers headphones] Double scoop of strawberry, please.

Elli: Dude, have you even read past the headlines? There's no way that thing's human!

Guy: Yes, I can read, and it doesn't sound like any animal I've ever heard of.

Elli: What is it then, some sort of eldritch creature of the dark?

Alma: Does it matter? The lesson, burnouts, is stop getting high as fuck in the woods at night.

Elli: Well, then where are we supposed to do it?

Julia: What the heck are you guys talking about?

Alma: Oh, hey, Jules!

Guy: We figured you were too cool for us lowly pier-dwellers.

Elli: Yeah, now that you're a style icon and all. [snickers]

Julia: Shut up! I'm never going to live that down, am I?

Elli, Guy, and Alma in unison: NOOOOOPE.

Julia: It was an online exclusive. Hardly anyone even saw it!

Alma: Your Social Bunny follower count says otherwise.

Julia: Whatever. So are the tourists making Sasquatch claims again?

Elli: Aren't they always?

Alma: It's the terminal brain rot, I fear.

Guy: Joke about the out-of-towners all you want, but I take the word of locals like gospel.

Alma: Especially when it's your druggie friends rambling about their bad trips.

Guy: It's not just them, okay? It's in the papers! Something is attacking people in the woods after dark. It comes from out of

nowhere. All anyone recalls is being tackled by a flying black blur then pinned to the ground with inhuman force and fucking pierced

by needle-sharp teeth. This thing takes enough blood to leave them just barely alive, and the crazy part is it seems sorry after, like it just can't help itself. It dumps them by the roadside where they'll be seen

so they don’t bleed out. They call it the Copperdale Creep.

Julia: [scoffs in disbelief] This town is nuts. And you guys have been watching too many scary movies.

Guy: If you don't believe me, just check the front page of the Courier!

Elli: Skate solo at your own peril, Jules!

Alma: It's broad daylight, cowards. She'll be fine.

-

Julia: Banjo, we’d better run inside before the Copperdale Creep snatches us up! Wait till Helena gets a load of this, huh, boy?

[knocking vigorously] Helena, open up! You'll never believe what I just heard. There’s some sort of violent maniac on the loose!

Banjo: [scratching and whining]

Julia: Helena, are you okay? [wiggles doorknob] You've been locked in there since last night.

Banjo: [aggressive barking]

Julia: Can't you hear how much Banjo wants to see you? Helena?...

Helena: Go away, Julia!

Julia: But-

Helena: Leave me alone. I'm fine.

[kenmaspuddinghair]

Honorably discharged partially disabled Simon part 4

part 1 part 2 part 3

 The time was exactly 11:59 PM, in less than 60 seconds your phone would go off and you would find Simon still wide awake. You didn't want to bother Simon so you were sleeping in his chair rather than in his bed with him, and Simon couldn't find the nerve to ask you. You were waking up every hour to make sure Simon was sleeping and not in pain but so far he's been awake every time.

It was a soft vibration yet you still woke up and quietly walked over to Simon “why are you still awake? Simon if you're in pain you need to tell me” “I promise ‘m not in pain, ‘m trying to sleep”  you just sighed, this is the response you got the last two times as well  “is there anything I can do for you to fall asleep?" Then Simon got an idea, it was now or never, he knew he wasn't gonna get any sleep knowing you were right there in reach, so he made do. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into the bed next to him “S-simon what are you doing? You have to be careful” Simon just hummed as he fixed the blankets around you “this ‘ill help me sleep” and just like that you were tucked under the covers perfectly into his side and Simon was already drifting to sleep so what kind of nurse would you be if you got up. 

You woke up to your normal morning alarm but it turned off before you even moved, once you fully woke up, you looked around to find Simon right next to you just staring at you, your face flushed as you got out of the bed “i'm gonna go make breakfast” and you scurried away before Simon could reply. Maybe what he did last night was too much? 

You and Simon ate in silence for the first time in a week, once you finished he started walking outside but you stopped him “exactly where are you going” gosh Simon thought you were so pretty with your hands on your hips questioning him “i'm going do a few laps around the base, my normal workout” “and how many laps are ‘a few’ and how long is that going to be, you can't do as much as you used to Simon” he sighed, he knew you were right but he also wanted to show you he could do more than you thought, that's when he made the decision 

Simon grabbed you some shoes and a light jacket as it was still early spring, he didn't ask you to join him he just decided you were, he said it was so you could monitor him and see he was doing fine, but he had a slightly different plan. This was the third hill you and Simon were going across and you were panting so heavily, while Simon kept his breath steady and showed no signs of weakness. Simon had been quiet the entire trip “okay okay Simon, you've made your point, I get it. You're still capable and I don't need to hover so much, can we please go back now?” You were so out of breath Simon kinda felt bad for bringing you up here but you were so close he couldn't turn back now.

“Actually brought ya up ‘ere for a different reason, just a little longer can ya do that?” Simon paused before looking over your whole figure “i'll even carry ya up�� you let out a small laugh at that “Simon I can't keep going but I also can't let you carry me, that'll be way too much for you” Simon wasn't taking no for an answer, he just wordless picked you up bridal style before continuing up, after a moment he added “ya weigh like half o’ what I do regularly, this is nothin baby” you just accepted defeat and leaned into the strong man carrying you. 

Simon placed you gently on a bench that was placed at the top of the hill facing the rising sun. After a bit of silence, Simon decided this was his only chance to ask you out but he still wasn't sure how so he just started rambling. “Ya know this bench means ‘lot to me, Price made me lieutenant here, he also brought me up ‘ere to tell me I was honorably discharged…” he felt your hand on his biceps comfortably rubbing circles on him, he took a deep breath before he continued.

He had a whole speech about how much he liked you, how you've been the only person he felt comfortable around, and how he cant stop thinking about you, really he did, he kept rehearsing on the walk here but that's not what came out of his mouth.

“Will ya let me be yer husband?” you were startled you whipped your head to look at him, I mean you knew he would have trouble asking you out but what was this “Simon-” “no I mean like yer future husband, it doesn't have to be now, but I don't wanna wait long, but i'll wait however long ya need-” he was rambling so you cut him off, with a kiss of course, once you pulled back his mouth stayed slightly agape as you smiled at him “I think you were trying to ask me to be your girlfriend, right?” he just nodded still shocked by your bold move, you giggled at his face “of course i'll be yer future wife” you replied teasingly. This didn't go as planned but it was still a win, and Simon would take that, he just needed to make sure he could be the perfect husband for you, his perfect wife, well future wife.

tags- @piconico17 @just-lilita @madsdawson @silversfavfics @enfppuff @solazoro @sirbonesly @roastyyytoastyyy @the-disaster-in-waiting @lonjitas @squishytap @gays6968 @sunndust @dreamland08 @sweetpeakarolinaaa @marcysbear @alfiestreacle @bxm-2121@goldyghoul  @itsanemu0101 @wolverineswaifu @crempuffie @ohdrey89 @cucurucho-amargo @avalkyrieofparis @castellomargot @cmbghost @strawberrygato @blueladys-world @goodsoup19 @pinkylouise @creepzeyecandy @tessakate @identity2212 (if I added you to the tag list and you don't want to be, just let me go ill remove you)

[bunni-v1]

How would the relationship plays out with his darling if he meets them at his pre corruption?

🍓Okay so, this is part of my OC's storyline so trust me when I say I've thought about this EXTENSIVELY. Please excuse me if I use she/her pronouns or straight drop her name, she is the ray of sunshine in my life and I get excited just thinking about talking about her lol.

Tw: None?; Calls him Blueberry Yogurt Cookie btw

Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Fluff & Angst (kinda)

-For the sake of these headcanons, I'm calling his gay-ass Blueberry Yogurt Cookie, because we don't know his actual name and he's blue so.

-There are two main things you have to do for Blueberry Yogurt to consider a relationship with you. 1) Be immortal, or at least have an extended lifeline, 2) You're not one of his students/Don't worship him like a god.

-Number one isn't really in your control, but if you're able to live through his corruption and reawakening, I'll assume you've got a little more life in you than the normal cookie.

-Number two is where it's actually hard. Blueberry Yogurt carries himself with such grace it would make classically trained ballerinas jealous. He's radiant and beautiful and all kinds of fantastical, not to mention his boundless knowledge and gentle demeanor.

-He is the perfect cookie, at least to the public eye. You've gotta be able to look past that and see him for who he is. What he values in a cookie doesn't change between now and when he's corrupted.

-I will say, he's much more open and willing to show you his genuine love and affection as Blueberry Yogurt. There's no grand change or fight you have to make for him to open up, he just does so because he loves you.

-He's never been known by a cookie that wasn't another hero. It's refreshing and he loves the feeling of being loved and loving you.

-You bring such different ideas on topics he would never consider given his place in this world. Your thoughts and curiosities become his thoughts and curiosities, and he loves sharing knowledge with you whenever he can.

-He treats you well, but when the corruption starts to settle in things change. Blueberry Yogurt is painfully aware of what's going in, he feels his mentality changing and shifting. The pessimism runs through his dough, his temper is shorter, and worse he finds himself... reveling in the pain of others.

-NOT you. Never you. Oh, he would tear apart all of cookie society for you, and he really starts meaning that the worse it gets.

-Of course, he thinks about this, and he makes a plan to keep you safe from himself. Without causing too much worry or making it seem like he doesn't want you around, he finds an excuse for you to leave Beast Yeast -- just for the time it takes him to figure this all out!

-You obviously notice all these worrying changes in his personality, but you can't do much more than worry for him at the time. When he sends you away, you do so with the promise you'll see him as soon as you get back. And you do!

-Inside the tree, of course.

-You are comforted by Elder Faerie, but there's only so much reassurance he can give. You don't even fully understand what happened, how this could happen? You have a very long time to work through these emotions, though.

-You wait and wait and wait and wait. For so very long, and so loyally. You travel around Beast Yeast and help stragglers, visit the other Heroes' territories, and make friends with their loyal followers. But you always come back to that tree.

-Shadow Milk watches you the whole time. When he isn't obsessing over his souljam and vengeance, he is obsessing over you. How surprised will you be to see him like this? Oh, he hates himself for sending you away, you would've accepted him as he is. He knows it. You love him so.

-You look at that stupid tree with such longing, you miss him so much. He vows that as soon as he's out, he's going to treat you to the grandest performance you've ever seen. He just can't wait to shower you in love and affection again.

-Then, Gingerbrave and his friends show. You find yourself drawn to Pure Vanilla Cookie more than anyone else. He reminds you of Blueberry Yogurt, and it's easy to talk to him as you walk alongside him to the faerie kingdom.

-Shadow Milk Cookie doesn't like that!~

-When he breaks out of that stupid tree he makes a big show of claiming you to everyone there. He scoops your cute tiny little frame up in his hands with the biggest grin, his giddiness and having you again after all these years overwhelming.

-I won't lie, he's terrifying and you're rightfully a bit spooked at his behavior, but more so you're happy to see him again. And he's so so so so so happy to see you too, he missed his little dolly!

-So once he's able to get some proper alone time with you, you are smothered in affection. If you knew him pre-corruption, he feels no need to hide anything from you. You get Shadow Milk Cookie Premium off the bat, with no trial runs or nothing! Ain't that nice dolly?

-He doesn't want to reminisce with you, though. His past isn't something he likes thinking about, but he'll humor you because he loves you so.

-If you don't approve of things he does, he brushes it off. Commenting that you know him, he wouldn't do anything he doesn't deem necessary.

-He loves you. You still love him, don't you doll?

[luveline]

hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure

hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k

cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain

Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds. 

There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal. 

You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower. 

"Not this time, Pete." 

"Too bad," he laments. 

You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious. 

"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut. 

"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?" 

"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders." 

"You want me to wash your hair." 

"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg." 

You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?" 

"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money." 

"Anything else?" 

He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are. 

He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?" 

"You told me to stay, so I'm staying." 

He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?" 

"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?" 

"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing." 

Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.

It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink." 

"Wait–" 

He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it." 

"I'm just feeling icky," you confide. 

"About what?" 

You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?" 

He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, a little." 

He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips. 

"It doesn't suit me–" 

"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better." 

"Even when I was thinner?" 

"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor." 

"No, but you have to say that." 

"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious." 

You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin. 

"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight." 

"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle." 

"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."

[angelsndragons]

how's it going, veilguard peeps? one of my favorite headcanons and theories is

the caretaker = felassan

and i'm gonna run down the (admittedly thin, heavy conjecture/inference) evidence we have supporting the theory.

spoilers ahead but first!

AnD, i hear you say, didn't Solas kill Felassan in The Masked Empire? Isn't that one of his great regrets?

fear not, fellow fans.

1. solas killed felassan In The Fade. that's kind of an important caveat. da2 established that mages killed in the fade become tranquil, they aren't outright killed. put a pin in this, we'll come back to it.

2. spirits, particularly ancient spirits, can fracture into different fragments upon death, some with their own personalities, experiences, and beliefs. we have falon'din and dirthamen, the two mythal fragments, solas' wisdom friend in dai, etc.

the point is that the ancient elves don't die easily and while felassan is probably not among the first generation of elves, he is still an ancient elf. we don't know if he was a spirit who gained a body or one of the first elves fully born in and of thedas. we do know that distinction matters very little, given that ghilan'nain was definitely of the later generation and yet she rose to become a god.

Okay, sure, AnD, but what does that have to do with Felassan and the Caretaker?

timeline:

felassan's notes are all over the crossroads and the lighthouse. not once does he mention the caretaker. even in the post-veil notes, the caretaker is not mentioned. the first time we Know that the caretaker has moved in to the crossroads and the lighthouse is from solas (we know it's from solas because of the paint):

This note has a smear of paint on one corner: Have they always been here? There are beings in the Crossroads unknown even to the wise, though the most ancient ones make any domain their own. Certainly, this Caretaker belongs here now. I wonder what we look like to them. Need is a scaffold, and the needs of the living ever rise and fall upon it. Hunger, thirst, sleep... imagine the constant cacophony to one sensitive to such things. Or am I too simple? Wants are fleeting; needs have deeper roots. Perhaps that's why I find this particular spirit's presence both comforting and disconcerting. The prospect that our heart's desire and our truest need could differ—or are even at odds—is hard to contemplate.

so sometime after he woke up in 9:39-9:40 dragon, solas made his way back to the lighthouse. he wonders whether the caretaker has always been in the lighthouse or if they are a more recent addition. whichever is the truth, solas immediately clocks them as ancient, comforting, and disconcerting.

now, as for when solas first encounters the caretaker, i'm going out on a limb to say that this encounter occurred after trespasser. we know solas carved his regrets out of himself via the paintings and statues to ensure he wasn't accidentally grabbed by his regret prison while moving the remaining gods. the office note states that he figured out his "perfect reparation" by studying the inquisitor's arm.

this is important because solas kills felassan in 9:40, leaving a gap of time where a fragment could reform and regain enough power to manifest once again.

so we've established a theoretical timeline in which felassan could have fragmented into the caretaker. now let's take a look at some links.

You are safe here, both those of flesh and those of Fade. Any who wish to help are welcome. The magic of the Lighthouse will provide for your needs, see to your comfort, and even help you understand different tongues, for those who escaped here from distant parts of the empire. Should you have any other needs, ask for the Slow Arrow, and I will help.

so i just want to highlight something here. felassan tasked himself with caring for the slaves and potential new rebels. he is explicitly linked over and over again with seeing to other people's well-being, with explicit concern for the innocent. it is his number 1 character trait outside of being solas' second. this man cares. he also specifically cares for solas, many of his codex entries include asides about solas' state of mind or words of comfort to his friend.

the caretaker tells rook that they "go where [they are] needed." felassan's notes on the vi'revas say "thus, we can travel wherever this rebellion needs us, with no fear of pursuit."

one of the caretaker's travel comments is "as needed," in response to rook's question if they're one spirit doing everything or multiple. aka the caretaker we know could be a fragment.

their first acts are to help rook navigate the crossroads, where felassan's notes are scattered all over the place. where elven spirits and fade spirits alike have come to take refuge from the gods, much like the ancient entry above. only this time, there is no solas and apparently no felassan. just a caretaker and a bunch of guardians. guardians which, according to bellara, are powered by spirits set to guard something. so like, fractured echoes or remnants of the original rebellion, is what i'm getting at. much like how the lighthouse is fractured, the veil broke the world and the fade, etc.

the caretaker holds dominion over the crossroads. they also say at the beginning that they do not have the power to help rook more due to the state of the crossroads. the spreading blight and weaponization of the wolf's regrets are leeching power from the place and the caretaker. the rune rook receives at the end of the game is called the salvation of felassan and its power is dictated by how much of the crossroads quest line the player completed.

however i would argue the strongest evidence that felassan fractured into the caretaker is thus: remember way back in the beginning of this monstrosity i said that felassan was murdered in the fade? remember how da2 establishes that mages killed in the fade become tranquil via feynriel? and remember how it's dwarves, innately tranquil because they are cut off from the titans, and tranquil mages who enchant objects in the previous titles?

remind me who's doing the enchanting in this game again?

that's a rhetorical question.

it's the caretaker.

yeah, just think about it for a second.

a spirit has been sundered from the fade enough that they can enchant items and even abilities.

felassan was an ancient elf murdered in the fade.

yeah.

i love this game.

[mickyschumacher]

i read childhood friends to lovers for paul that u wrote and i fear i may need a longer version 😔🙏🏼🙏🏼

[KISS HER YOU FOOL!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you have always meant so much to paul. more than he would ever admit. but one look at you on a random summer's day in estonia has him on his knees. or in which paul thinks he'll go crazy if he doesn't tell you he's in love with you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: sweet tooth-rotting fluff, childhood friends to lovers, so so so much love, also means it's corny, mention of a heart attack (in a joke), poorly translated estonian (i'm so sorry) | barely proof read ♡︎

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: paul aron x childhood bsf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.9k+

𝐀/𝐍: I GOT YOUUUU. i love writing this so much like ugh- i had to stop grinning to myself!!!! anyways, hope you like it ♡︎

🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Summer break. It was always Paul's favourite. Not for any particular reason. And most definitely not for any reason that started with you.

Paul was always going in and out of Estonia when he could. He loved home far too much to stay away from it. But he couldn't lie... the Estonian summers were always closest to his heart.

He always spent it with you. Because it was natural. There was nothing else he would want to do.

This year was no different to any other.

Paul had felt the warmth from his plane's window upon arrival. Tallinn was bustling as it usually did, kids running around, ice cream running down their mouths while teenagers sat and talked for hours on end.

The male wasn't too surprised you weren't home. In fact, there was only one place you would be on a random Wednesday afternoon. Pirita. 

Paul took in the fully blooming flowers and the lush grass as he walked to the beach. The birds were singing their favourite songs, in harmony with the breeze rushing past his blonde hair. The faint smell of salt wafting around him while the soft golden sand shined at him.

And while that a full-swing Estonian summer, Paul only knew the summer where you were in competition with his brother to make the best sandcastle and to beat him at beach volleyball. Where you would beg the both of them for some ice cream before you left home. The summer where your parents would yell at you to not bring sand into the house and you were all left giggling to yourselves.

Paul smiled seeing a familiar figure toss the vibrant coloured ball into the air while the other ran after it.

Tossing his bag next to the both of yours, Paul slowly jogged up to the eventful situation. "Room for a third?"

He watched you turn around in surprise, the beam on your face creating a chaotic storm within in chest.

"Paul!" You grinned, dismissing volleyball falling in front of you before you rushed towards him. Bombarding him with a tight hug, you held him close. "I thought you were coming tomorrow?" You murmured.

Paul breathed slowly, debating on whether his heart was speeding up or steadying. He took leisure in his arms being wrapped around you. He looked down at you, blue eyes positively gleaming. "Why? Want me to come later? So you can pretend you don't miss me?"

You snorted, pushing yourself away from him. "Always."

You both could practically hear Ralf, Paul's older brother, roll his eyes. "Okay, lovebirds. Now are we going play or swim?"

Paul gave his brother a small glare while you looked between the both of them with a knowing smile. Your childhood friend only sighed, understanding exactly what you were insinuating. "Swim it is."

Peeling of his shirt, you found yourself looking away as you usually did, pretending your cheeks weren't reddening. Exhaling to cool your burning skin, you inched towards the water slowly. "Last one in buys ice cream!" You shouted, breaking into a sprint.

Ralf groaned in annoyance while Paul shook his head with a small grin. "Every time," his brother mumbled, amusement crawling onto his face as they both followed after you.

The cold water seized your body, goosebumps littering every inch of your skin as the two brothers experienced the same. You eyed the latecomer with a teasing smile. "You remember what I'm having?"

Paul narrowed his eyes. "Chocolate, stracciatella, and mango," he responded, words automatically falling from his mouth without any effort.

You wavered in the water, feeling serene as it splashed against you to hold you up. You only grinned in return. "Tell me if you need any change."

Paul wordlessly stalked through the water, immediately turning to grab you. But you could tell what you were in for almost instantaneously.

A squeal fell from your lips, Ralf quickly coming to your aid as he curled his hands through the water, bringing the large wave to Paul's face.

Paul squinted, rubbing his face with his hands as he stood in the water. You tried not to look too closely at the rivets of water droplets falling down his chest.

He breathed, chest heaving while his eyes fell to you and Ralf. "Two against one is not fair," he stated.

You shrugged, feeling the cold water pool next to your shoulders. "Ralf's my knight in shining armour. It's more like one-v-one," you retorted, scrunching your nose before you smiled and sunk under the water.

Paul tilted his head, carefully taking in the way the sun bounced off of you, making you shine in the water's ripples. By God, you were dangerous for his heart.

He spotted his brother's knowing look. "Tell her," Ralf mouthed, sending a small splash his way.

"Mind your own business," Paul mouthed back, giving him a slight glare.

Ralf only rolled his eyes, diving into the water. He knew when he wasn't wanted and Paul looked like he wanted to smash him into smithereens.

Paul only sighed, treading through the water to catch up with your gliding figure. He watched your head peek out the water, hair soaked, skin glistening as you smiled at him. He blew some air into his cheeks. Christ, you sure knew how to make things difficult for him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, peering up at him quietly. You were thankful you had asked the question for all the words in your throat had been seized.

Paul always looked beautiful. But there was something almost ethereal when he stood before you, sunkissed, cheeks faintly flushed, damp blonde locks going in all directions while his blue eyes shined at you.

And you wondered.

You wondered if he looked at you and saw the same. Whether his heart was racing too or if it was just yours. Whether his world had stopped spinning or if it seemed just that bit more colourful... or if it was just you.

Paul shyly shook his head, his usual pretty smile gracing his face.

You nodded slowly, swallowing the odd lump in your throat and ignoring the tingle across your cheeks. "Thoughts on ice cream and an evening walk?"

His chest seem to heave with a relieved ease. As though comfort itself had wrapped their hands around him. A small smile teetered on his face. "Do you even have to ask?"

You stayed silent for a moment, taking a moment to mull over his words. Your heart felt warm. You pursed your lips, firmly looking at him with your head tilted. "I guess not."

━━━━━━━━━━━

Paul had appeared in front of your house a few hours later, inviting himself into your living room so naturally when your mother greeted him.

You watched them talk from the view of the staircase in silence. One thing about Paul was he was a moodmaker. Everywhere he went, he left a trail of happiness with him. It wasn't just his cheeky smile or his charisma. He was attentive. He understood. And your mother absolutely adored that about him.

Sunshine.

It was the name you gave him when you were younger.

So bright and full of life. You hope it never dulled.

"Do you want me to deliver the ice cream to you instead?" Paul's voice interrupted your thoughts as your mother laughed.

You rolled your eyes, walking down the final few stairs. You nudged him on your way to your mother. Clinging to her arm, you made a face at him. "Big words from someone who came last," you retorted, poking your tongue.

Paul chuckled, largely aware of the sudden increase in his heart rate. "Real mature," he said, folding his arms, "so mature I don't think you should get your gift."

Your eyes widened, hands leaving your mother's arm. "From Silverstone?" You gasped, inching towards him.

You favourite track.

He simply shrugged, smug grin playing on his face. "Maybe," he pursed his lips, "I guess you'll never know now."

"Paul," you called out, pout already beginning to form.

The male willed himself to not fold at the action, gulping nervously. He maintained his stance, one foot facing outwards, ready to bolt. He took out the small box in his pocket and shook it in front of you. "Catch me if you can," he sung.

Before you knew it, both you and Paul were running around the living room while your mother retreated to the patio, not exactly wanting to be involved in this one.

"Paul!" You shouted at the blonde male, indecently leaping from your armrest to the floor.

"So slow!" Paul teased with a grin, a metre or two in front of you, entering the kitchen.

You held in your eye roll, pushing your legs after him. "A-ha!" You cheered, eyeing the deer in headlights carefully. All blocked off. Only walls. And the door your stood in between. "No where to go now," you retorted.

Paul blinked, realising you were right. He stared at you momentarily before sticking his hand up straight.

For fuck's sake.

"Seriously?" You complained, hand on your hip and you eyed the little box in the air.

Paul only shrugged, standing on the tips of his toes, patiently waiting for you to even attempt to take the box out of his hand.

You narrowed your eyes, taking a few steps towards Paul. Blissfully unaware of the few centimetres between the both of you, you stood tall, hand struggling reaching within the box's space.

Paul, who was so focused on keeping your gift in the air, felt the air from his lungs evaporate as he looked down at you. So close. You were so close to him. He could see each freckle and mark on your face. See the swirls of comfort in your eyes. Feel the warmth radiate off your lips.

Dangerously, he let his mind wonder. They looked soft. Pillowy. How would they feel? Would they taste of the lip balm he always watched you use?

Kiss her you fool.

"It's my gift, you idio–" You muttered, acquiring the box a bit too easily from Paul's hand when you noticed the soft gaze staring down at you.

You could feel the hairs of your body stand, almost uneasy. Why was he looking at you like that? So warmly? So... fondly?

When had you gotten to close?

You blinked, cheeks flushed as you took a step back. Clearing your throat, you could see Paul snap out of whatever it was that was occupying his head.

You moved your eyes to the gift box, gently lifting the lid off. Your eyes widened at the flecks of sparkles flashing at you. "Paul," you whispered in disbelief.

Paul swallowed, fingers fidgeting with each other with nervousness. "Do you like it?"

"Like it?" You queried, looking up at Paul in awe. You huffed. "I love it."

It was a bracelet with three charms. One being the Silverstone Circuit. Another was a small circle with both of your initials engraved onto it. And the last one was the Estonian Grand Prix.

Before he knew it, Paul was swamped with a tight hug. Automatically, his hands wrapped around your body, savouring the warmth you had brought him while your perfume lingered in the air. His favourite.

"Thank you. I mean it," you murmured against his chest.

Paul inhaled slowly, an attempt to steady his heart beat once again. He smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're welcome," he mumbled, "I better get the same hug when I buy you your ice cream."

Your laugh rumbled against his chest and Paul decided he liked the feeling too much. You peeled away from him, holding the box close to you. "What time does your bank open? Is it ready for a net loss of ice cream?"

Paul sighed, already missing the feel of you against him... in his arms. "I knew it... I'm just a bank to you. So usable," he murmured, shaking his head.

This time you rolled your eyes. "Okay, Mr Theatrics. Pack it up. This girl needs some ice cream."

━━━━━━━━━━━

Paul watched you carefully while the both of you walked to the local ice cream shop. The smile on your face as you stared at the bracelet on your wrist made him want to scream from the top of his lungs.

He chewed on his lips, preventing it from even happening. Shoving his car keys in his pocket, Paul nudged you. "You like it that much?"

You grinned widely, enthusiastically nodding. "Your best present ever."

Paul smiled to himself, watching you walk into the store ahead of him. Christ... it was getting harder and harder to pretend.

The both of you stood at the counter. Before you could open your mouth, Paul was already opening his. "One cup with chocolate, stracciatella, and mango. I'll have one with vanilla."

You rolled your eyes. "So boring."

Paul narrowed his eyes at you. "Everyone likes vanilla," he shrugged.

You eyed the cheeky grin quietly, breathing in slowly. You internally gulped, feeling your chest tighten. You smiled briefly. "I'm sure everyone does."

A couple minutes had passed and Paul had grabbed both of your ice creams. You took yours from his hands, walking back into the warm sunlight.

The sky was slowly turning orange and pink, bringing out hidden beauty within Tallinn. This was when the capital came alive. So colourful. Bustling with life. Each corner with a story to tell.

You both found yourselves at the small walk nearby. You could see others walk on the sand of Pirita, laughter filling the air. The breeze had picked up, feeling more crisp while the warm temperature began to wane.

"I love summer here," Paul stated out of the blue.

You swallowed your bite of chocolate ice cream, resting your spoon in your cup. You raised a brow. "Really? I've heard summer in Greece is really pretty."

While he took a mental note, Paul gave you a small shrug. "I'm sure it is. But it's not Estonia. I mean look around. Ice cream. The beach. The atmosphere. The smell of salt in the wind. I would take walking around here in summer over a podium. Any time."

You pursed your lips, considering his words with a nod. "That's true."

Paul tilted his head, eyes travelling to you. "Besides Greece wouldn't have you."

You blinked before snorting. You nudged him playfully. "Why? Is that a dealbreaker, Aron?" You teased.

He paused in his steps, making you turn to him with a questioning gaze. "Always," he responded.

You couldn't find yourself to shy away from the firmness in his eyes. Nor the way he stood in front of you like he meant what he was saying.

"There's no life with you," Paul admitted so casually you had to pinch yourself.

This was real.

This was actually happening.

"I'm literally going to drop dead of a heart attack if you say anything else," you muttered, swallowing hard.

Paul grinned in the way he usually did. Cheeky and heartwarming. Taking both of your cups of ice cream and placing them on a near by railing, he took a few strides to you. Within seconds, it felt like you were back in that kitchen.

He stared at you, hands reaching to hold the sides of your face gently. His blue eyes searched yours as though he could see your soul. "Mu kallis, ma arvan, et sa tead, aga ma pean sulle ütlema, kui sa oled imestanud. Ma olen sinusse armunud. Ja olen seda olnud sellest ajast peale, kui me lapsed olime." My dear, I think you know but I need to tell you in case you've been wondering. I'm in love with you. And I have been since we were kids.

Your eyes glistened ever so slightly while your cheeks burned. Your hands travelled across his arms, finding his own hands. You smiled at the small gulp Paul took.

You let out a slow breath. "Ka mina armastan sind. Teid kõiki. Igavesti." I love you too. All of you. Forever.

Paul smiled widely in relief. Leaning his forehead against yours, he whispered, "Can I kiss you?"

You felt speechless as your own cheeks began to redden. You nodded meekly. "Yes please," you managed to whisper back..

Paul smiled softly. His hand reached out to the back of your neck, bringing you in closer. Your heart hammered hard against your chest while you felt your breaths become shallow. Leaning in further, he flickered his blue eyes once back to you before he brought his lips to yours.

Your touch on him right now was so minimal yet it sent tingles down every inch of Paul. His own hands cupped your cheeks so naturally, just like he had imagined for years. His breath had entirely been seized by you as goosebumps littered his skin.

It was strange. You felt so impossibly warm. The sun was setting and summer was flushed against your body. And despite everything, you had shivers and goosebumps as if you were cold for crying out loud. The burn of your cheeks had never been hotter. You could've sworn that Paul was so close to you that he could feel it.

You seemingly returned Paul's breath, removing your lips slowly and stubbornly, letting them graze against his skin briefly before fulling looking at him.

Paul exhaled a soft laugh at your dazed expression, moving his hand to your neck and letting his face nestle in the other. "You okay?" He asked, ocean eyes searching yours.

You nodded gently. "Perfect," you murmured with a wide smile, unable to hide the fresh pink and red scattered amongst your skin.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[shadowbriar]

Bob Reynolds — Catalyst II

Pairing : Robert "Bob" Reynolds x (she/her) doctor!Reader Word Count : more than 200 words. Warning : Thunderbolts spoilers. Sets during Bob's Project Sentry era. Mentions of medical procedures. Not proofread cause I'm doing this on my phone. Synopsis : For once, he actually let himself grow comfortable in the gentleness of another. Notes : i think i've gathered the rough idea for this short series. be mindful that i might not update as fast as you'd like, so drop a comment if you'd wanna be tagged for future chapters! please donate to my kofi so I can get a new laptop and write properly cause drafting though phone is hell, i tell you.

↞ Part I

Bob's hands were always cold. That's one of the first things she noticed about him.

At first, she thought it was just because he was nervous or that the room was too cold for him to stay in. They have to keep the temperature a little below the average to minimise the chance of contamination in the lab, but as she learned more about him, reading all the substance abuse and his history of mental illnesses, his cold hands were certainly caused by something greater than just the cold air.

Bob wasn't even supposed to be one of her patients. He was one of the junior doctors'. A subject that they didn't even expect to be able to survive the first trial—seeing the many potential underlying health issues he might have from his previous lifestyle—but it just so happened that she came to the lab the morning his procedure was being done, and one look at those innocent, terrified eyes, and she knew she couldn't leave him out of her sight.

"Do you feel any pain right now, Mr. Reynolds?"

"No," he answers, looking down to the many cables attached to his chest right now "and— uh, please don't call me Mr. Reynolds,"

"Okay, what would you like to be called then?" she asked as she fixed his IV drip.

"Bob, please call me Bob,"

"Okay, then, Bob," she nods, putting her hands in her coat pocket as she speaks to him "I've seen that you've got quite the history with substances, and since there have been cases where patients grow certain level of drug resistance from substance abuse, I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you,"

Bob looks at her with quite the fright in his eyes, barely blinking as he tries to understand her words.

"Look, I'm not here to judge or snitch on you to anyone. I just want to make sure that you're okay and will be okay," she smiles softly, hoping he wouldn't feel threatened anyhow "and since we'll be seeing a lot of each other, I figure we might as well be friends,"

"Friends..?"

She nods, giving him her first name, "I'll call you Bob, and you can call me that. And since we're calling each other by our first names, technically, we're already friends,"

Bob smiles hesitantly.

She watches him a little closely. Bob's smile lines were deep. There's a shy dimple on his right cheek that would only appear if he was fully grinning. The curls on the corner of his lips rarely reach his eyes, but when they do, she finds it hard to peel her eyes off him. She also notices that he speaks louder to himself than when he was conversing with anyone. Bob always speaks in question, as if he was afraid to be persistent or cause any disturbance to anyone. A habit that she couldn’t help but to feel a little sad of for there must be a persisting cause to have moulded him into this hesitant man.

"Do you think this test is as true as how they promote it?" Bob asks, looking down to his IV-ed hand.

"How do they promote it?"

"That it'll make you better," he answers, looking up to her "they say it's for people who wants to make something better out of themselves,"

She remained quiet, watching him intently.

"Do you think it'll make me better?" Bob asks once again.

"I don't know," she shakes her head, answering his question truthfully "but what I do know, is that I will do all that I can to make sure that you'll be okay. That you're not hurt in any way,"

"That's not really what I signed up for," he replies, not meeting her eyes. There was a clear disappointment in his heart as he let out a sigh, picking on his nails as if he was regretting the decision he’s made. She wonders if she should just excuse herself or try to offer him any better words of comfort, but before she could say anything, Bob finally looks up with half a smile on his face "at least, I gained a friend,"

She smiles back at him, hoping that it looks as genuine as the fondness she feels for the man, "I'll try my best, Bob,"

And that's how it all started. How she unknowingly committed herself to a patient like never before. Every time she came to make notes of his progress, every time she checked his blood pressure—even though she knew that the nurses have done it prior to her visit—she would always touch his hand to see if they were getting warmer.

There's a lot of wounds Bob has that he hasn't shared with her, lots of things she wished he would let her heal, but trying to fix his cold hands feels like the right first step. She wanted to make sure that he was getting better, that she was healing the causes of his cold hands, whichever it might be. Perhaps it was the drug doing all the work, but even then, knowing that she developed it and monitoring his progress now, still made her feel content on the little help she could offer for him.

"Your hands are getting warmer," she notes with a smile.

"I— yeah, they are, aren't they?" Bob says, rubbing his hands together from the pleasant surprise "I've always had cold hands all my life,"

She smiles, feeling happy from his beaming response.

"Do you have cold hands, as well?" Bob asks.

"Never as cold as yours were," she answers, opening her palms "do you want to touch my hand?"

Bob looks up to see her eyes. There was evident surprise written on his face, as if he never expected anyone to share him such an offer. He looks back down to her open, inviting hand, hesitating, "Can I?"

"Of course,"

Bob's fingers were shaking a little as he reached for her hand. He places his palm on top of hers, laying it flat as if he doesn't know how to properly touch her. The size of his hand could easily envelop hers, a little warmer than ever, but still colder than hers.

"You're warm," he mentions, eyes still glued to their hands "small, but warm,"

She smiles at him, watching as he lets out a little sigh of satisfaction, "You'll get there. We'll get your hands warm soon, Bob,"

—-

The dizziness in her head seeps in as she slowly regains her consciousness. The lights above her head were blinding, scorching her pupils as it showered her with unnecessary brightness. She tried to cover her eyes with her hands, but her body was bound tight to the bed she's laying at. Strapped down to the point that she couldn't even turn her body.

"You're awake," a voice calls "I'm very sorry, Kid, but you left me no choice,"

She turned her head to see the man, head still hazy from the subdued tranquilliser, "You're a sick man, Houston,"

He shows a pitied smile, looking as if he knew himself just how much he's disappointed her.

"Let me go," she demands weakly, moaning as the ache on her body starts to settle "get these straps off me,"

The man shakes his head with regret, "I can't do that,"

"You— you're killing these people.. how could you?" she asks with a louder voice, struggling to free herself "I thought we were doing something good here, something important that would help the world. Why would you alter my serums, Houston, why?"

"Because you only wanted to make people better, not best," he begins, standing from his seat and turning to back her. He runs his hand through his white hair, frustrated of the circumstances they've found themselves in "you— you're too good, too kind, and we can't afford to be that. Not right now,"

She watches him without a word, confused as to what he’s trying to explain.

"We don't need better people. Better, is not enough. We need the best, and you can't be the best if there's plenty of you,"

"So, what, you let these people die and hope that one of them would survive?"

"That's the idea, yes," he answers as he faces her again "Project Sentry needs to produce a hero that is the best. A god, if not something greater. And we can't have that if they can't even survive a little molecular alteration from the serum,"

"You're injecting them with cancer," she argues, closing her eyes as the weight of guilt washes over her "no one is going to be able to come out of this experiment alive,"

"I fear you've underestimated yourself, Kid," Dr. Houston says with a little smile, walking closer to her "not only did you develop the serum, but you also took care of the man until he survived it. You healed and made him greater, at the same time,"

She looks at him with confounded expression, feeling her heartbeat rising as she realises who he's talking about, "No.. Bob—,"

"He's in great hands. You don't need to worry about him," he cuts in "Robert is our most valuable asset, the answer to OXE Group's need, and we have you, and only you, to thank for,"

"Don't you— if you touch Bob—," she begins to panic, squirming under the straps until it chaffed her skin "you're killing him! No one can survive that serum, no one! You're only setting him up for death!"

"Perhaps, but he's been thriving in all our physical tests, and I believe it's time for us to call Valentina. Show her about our breakthrough,"

"No—," her yelling fell to Houston's deaf ears as the man walks away, heading to the door "Houston, come back here and untie me! Let me go! You're killing him! Let me go! Houston—,"

She yelled and begged until her voice was gone. Her throat is now sore, and the exposed skin that met the edges of the strap was now bleeding from how hard she tries to pry herself out. She was exhausted, confused, and above all, scared of what's going to happen for Bob. Part of her feels guilty to have unknowingly put him in such a dangerous spot, but a bigger part of her, the more vulnerable and shy part of her, was scared that she would never get to see him again. The idea of never looking into those blue eyes again, to never see his smile lines, or touch his now warm hands, scare her more than whatever it is Houston might do to her.

Because if it wasn't for her to come and rescue Bob, who else would?

—-

The concept of time has practically gone pointless when you're tied in a room with no windows. She wasn't sure how long she has been trapped in this room, how long since she was injected with whatever it is Houston used to immobilised her, nor how long has it been since he last came in. The only time anyone ever comes in and out of that one door is to feed her and to walk her to the restroom, and that is done with rough, high security manner.

As she stared at the empty wall, she noticed that the light in the room was flickering. Not the kind of flickers that happened when the lamps were about to go out, but the kind of flicker you see when the electrical power was being messed with. She knew that the lab has backup generators, they couldn't afford a full outage if there should ever be any issue with the electricity, so the flickering lights certainly made her raise her brows.

At first, this flicker happens rarely during the day, but as time goes by, the more days she spends trapped in the room, the more frequent this flickering happens. Sometimes, the blackout lasts longer than three seconds, and she could only imagine just how many of her samples would've gone spoilt in the lab if she was still working. It's odd to know that Houston is doing nothing to fix that persisting electrical issue.

"You have some serious issues with those lamps," she comments as Houston finally revisits "are we running out of money to pay for the electricity bills?"

Houston shows a meaningful smile, one that holds a thousand secret she couldn't decipher, "Isn't it magnificent?"

Her brows rose, "What is?"

"The miracles Robert could do for us,"

"Bob did this..? But— how—,"

"I’ve told you, you're underestimating yourself,"

"What— what did you do to him?" she demands, tossing herself around to wiggle off the straps once again "let me go, Houston, let me see him!"

"He's doing fine, Kid," Houston chuckled a little, taking a seat "as I said, he's OXE Group's most valuable asset. We wouldn’t do anything to harm him, not when we’re so close to achieving our goal. We're taking good care of him, don’t worry,"

She looks away, trying to digest Houston's words. It's true, Bob is their only surviving subject. They wouldn't do anything to jeopardise their project, now that they're a step closer towards their mission. But it would be too risky to take Houston's words as it is. There's no limit to the eagerness and optimism OXE Group has for Project Sentry. One wrong decision and it would spoil all their hard work. Worse, it might actually harm Bob.

"You're bleeding again," Houston says as he notices the skin that was scarred by the straps "you need to stop hurting yourself this way, Kid,"

"Well, then, get me off of these and let me free,"

"And have you kidnapped our subject? Get him out of this building and make him disappear?" the older man asks, smiling triumphantly when he sees her surprised face "Robert told me about your plan to get him out of his room,"

"I never thought of kidnapping him, I just wanted to get him out of that depressing room," she defends "he's a person, Houston. Treat him like one,"

"Oh, we're treating him much better than that. He's to be a God, remember?"

She smiles a little, mocking, "And what then? When you've successfully turned him into a God, what then? What makes you think that a God would listen to you? To Val? To anyone?"

Houston's smile waters, looking caught off guard.

"You don't know what you're doing, Houston," she continues, pouring petrol to the flame "that's your problem: you just do, you never think. You should be ashamed of yourself. You're not even a doctor. You're just a puppet,"

"Well, we've all made mistakes with this project," he shrugs, acting as if her words didn't sting "at least, I'm not the one trapped and strapped in a room,"

"I'm here because of you," she spat bitterly.

"No, you're here because of yourself," he corrected as he pointed at her in a disapproving manner "you grew too close, Kid. You know the first rule of working in this industry is to never get personal. Not to your peers, not to your subjects, and yet, here you are, risking your life for a man you've only met for a couple weeks,"

She glares at him, "He's my patient, I have to care for him,"

"Is that all he really is?"

She remains quiet, looking away as she swallows her own saliva in shame. She knew that Houston was right. She's long crossed the one line she shouldn't have toyed with in the first place. A doctor should never grow personal to their patient, especially when the nature of your relationship was not as simple. Bob wasn't just a man who scrapped his knee and came to her for a band aid. He was a man who knew the risks of admitting himself to this program, and she was the doctor who was responsible for just observing him. Nothing more, nothing less. And yet here she is, days away from sunlight with her mind plagued with one thing only: Bob.

"You need to remember who you are," Houston continues with a gentler tone "you're not just a doctor here, Kid. You're a scientist, too, and as scientists, we're bound to lose our subjects, be it through success or failure,"

With a gentle squeeze to her shoulder, Houston stood from his seat. He gave her a smile, a conflicted one that tells her it pains him to have her treated this way, too, but he's left with no other choice. He couldn't risk her putting the project on the line or cause any more damage to herself.

"Wait," she called before he could reach for the doorknob "does he.. does he ever ask about me?"

Houston turns to face her, showing another apologetic smile as he shakes his head, "No,"

She blinks, finding his answer to be hard to accept, but it would be a lie to say she didn't expect it. Supposed she should feel glad that she's not putting Bob in any kind of stress from her disappearance that might disturb his great progress, yet it stings still to know that she never held that much importance to him as she would like. It was childish of her to take any promises they've made any more serious than just some casual nonsense. She's the one who left, after all. She, too, would stop looking for someone if they suddenly leave without an explanation. It was the one thing she promised most for him, that she would be there for him always, and yet she's gone. Even if it was against her wishes.

"I'm sorry, Kid," Houston apologises.

She looks up to him, forcing a smile and pretending as if none of this conversation hurts her, "He's just a patient,"

The man nods, showing a last apologetic smile before he leaves.

The room feels as if it's grown as the door shuts. She looks up to the ceiling, trying not to let the tears that were starting to form on her eyes fall. It is sad to cry for a man you barely know, but even more pathetic to not being able to wipe your tears off.

Houston was right. The serum worked, and Bob is thriving with his new powers. They should all triumph in the success of the project, popping bottles of champagne in celebration and planning for their upcoming overdue vacations. But why does she find it hard to find any fraction of happiness in her heart? Why does she feel reluctant to take any pride in the success of this project? Shouldn't she be happy that Bob's trial worked and that he doesn't need her anymore?

Perhaps it was the guilt of everybody else who didn't survive the test that made her this hesitant, but to say it out loud would be the biggest lie she'd ever confess to the world. Sure, the passing patients would become the demons she has to fight every night in her sleep, but this wasn't about them, was it? It wasn't about the other patients—it was about Bob. It was about the hope of leaving this place with him. It was about the idea of having that walk around the city and trying out new places with him. It was about seeing the smile lines on his face and feeling the warmth on his hands.

It was about the fact that she now realised such hope was nothing more than a reverie.

Taglist: @babybabygrogu @wqrzew @minnieminnieee1 @youdontknowe @jesterlaughingstock @idohknow @foreverchangingmind @heartcower @mquituisaca @artandpunishment @x3zerochanx3 @yujyujj @baylegend6 @websterss

[moonydanny]

Okay, this is NOT really a spec fic, 'cause we know Buck is at the stadium where the helicopters land and I have no idea how that could fit here, but after watching the episode and Buck screaming in the promo, this just came out. It's rough but whatever, I'm still reeling from the episode, and I'm gonna post it before I lose my nerve and the self-consciousness kicks back in hehe. Obvs SPOILERS and [redacted] MCD ahead.

It's on AO3 now, too.

"Army is on my tail, I don't know if I can—"

"Tommy, you listen to me," Evan's voice sounds hard and determined, even through the radio. "You can do this. I know you can."

Tommy takes a deep breath. He knew the moment he told Evan and Athena he'd help that he was risking more than his job again. But he hadn't hesitated. The 118—Evan needed his help, and he was going to do his best, even if it killed him.

"All right," he says, eying the ice bag on the seat next to him. "I'm heading your way now. But it has to be fast, we won't have a lot of time."

"We'll be ready," comes Athena's voice. "We're almost at the helipad."

Suddenly, there's another voice coming out of the radio.

"Pilot Kinard, this is Colonel Hartman. I hope you know this is not going to end well for you."

"I understand, sir," his voice is steady as he flies the chopper as fast as he can. He doesn't wait to for a response, there's no point. He changes the frequency to the one Evan and Athena are using.

"We see you, Tommy," Evan says.

"I think you're about to have company, too. And I don't mean me," he jokes, not sure the line is going to land as he hopes. They're all too tense to be glib, but Tommy can't help it. Joking to diffuse the tension has always been a go-to of his.

"We know," Athena chimes. "It was too good to hope they didn't follow us."

Tommy sees their figures grow bigger as he approaches the helipad. He gets in position and starts the landing. The two black choppers he had behind him get in position too, hovering in the air bracketing the roof. So I can't take off again, figures, he thinks. As the chopper touches down, before he can fully turn off the engine, he sees Buck running towards him.

He grabs the ice bag with the antiviral and gets out of the chopper with just enough time to brace himself before Evan is crashing into him. Tommy closes his eyes in relief and automatically wraps his arms around him as he feels Evan do the same around his shoulders, squeezing him tight. As the rotor blades keep slowing down, he hears Evan's voice softly next to his ear.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my God. You did it. Tommy, you did it."

"I did it," Tommy sighs. He loosens his arms to take a step back, even though it's the last thing he wants to do right now, but they still have to take the antiviral to the lab and there's no time to lose. "Evan, you have to go now."

Evan eyes are wide, and Tommy can see a dozen emotions fliting in them. He nods, unblinking, holding Tommy's gaze.

"I got it," Athena says from just a couple of steps behind Evan. Tommy didn't notice her reaching them, but he takes his eyes away from Evan's for a second and hands the bag to her.

"Thank you, Tommy." Her voice is tight with emotion. "We'll get you out of any trouble you get into, I promise," she says with a nod of her head. Tommy nods back and turns his gaze back to Evan, who hasn't let him go and has his hands on Tommy's shoulders still.

"Let's go, Buck."

"Right behind you," he says, but doesn't move. "Tommy—"

For the first time since he took off on the stolen chopper, he hears Evan's voice crack. He sees the fear in his eyes, and Tommy's heart clenches painfully.

"I know, Evan," he says, squeezing his hand that is still holding on to Evan's side. "We'll talk when it's all over. But you gotta go."

Evan starts shaking his head even before Tommy is done talking. His eyes turn glassy and the setting sun behind him makes the tears forming in Evan eyes shine in a way that pierces right through Tommy's heart.

"No. I don't know what's gonna happen, and I can't go without telling you this."

"Evan—"

"I love you, Tommy."

Tommy's heart stops for a second, the air completely knocked out of him by Evan's words. But before he can react or say anything back, Evan keeps going, urgency lacing his voice.

"A-And I'm not saying it just because the world is falling apart around us right now. This is not me being impulsive. This is me, terrified but clear-headed, telling you that I love you, Tommy. I love you so much. I've been in love with you since before we broke up, I was in love with you when we hooked up, and I'm still so fucking in love with you now. I was just too dumb to say it back then. And we will talk after all this is over, but I don't want to go another second without you knowing that I love you."

Tommy blinks back the tears that are burning in his own eyes now. He knows there's no time right now for him to tell Evan all that he wants to say. They have no time for him to apologize, for him to tell Evan that he's so, so sorry for hurting him, for running at the slightest sign of trouble, for letting his insecurities win time and time again. There's no time to tell him that he's been miserable without him, that Evan is it for him and that terrifies him. There's no time. So he just says:

"I love you, too." He closes the distance between them to press his forehead against Evan's and closes his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath. "I love you so much, sweetheart."

Their exchange didn't last more than half a minute, but it feels monumental. He feels more than hears Evan's soft gasp, his hands tightening their grip on Tommy's shoulders for a second. Then, their bubble is burst by the sound of people coming out of the elevator at the far end of the roof. They both turn to look and see army soldiers striding towards Athena and them.

With a last squeeze of his hand, he shoves Evan a little towards where Athena is having a standoff with who he guesses is the Colonel.

"Go save your family, baby. We'll talk later," he says. Evan looks back at him and nods as he starts jogging away from him.

"I'll keep you posted," Evan shouts as he runs.

Tommy stays where he is next to the chopper, watching as Athena and Buck are led to the elevator by a couple of soldiers and the Colonel turns and strides towards him.

Please, God, let them get to everyone in time, he prays to a god he doesn't really believe in. The Colonel reaches him, a scowl so deep on his face that Tommy wonders if his eyebrows hurt from pulling together so tightly.

"Pilot Kinard, I'm not even going to bother explaining right now the amount of trouble you have gotten yourself into with this stunt," he begins, his voice hard and sharp. "You're going to follow our helicopters to where you can land, and you will await further instructions. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

With that, the Colonel turns back towards the elevator. "Now, Kinard!"

Tommy gets back on his chopper, and as he takes her up into the air again, he sees the last rays of the sunset sinking in the horizon. As he follows the other chopper, with the second one on his tail, he turns into the radio frequency he knows they're using to communicate with dispatch. He keeps an ear on it the whole time, but nothing major happens beyond updates on the antiviral's ETA.

They soon get to the stadium they're apparently using to land, and ash he touches down, he hears Athena's voice on the radio saying they've arrived at the lab. He hurries out of the chopper and sprints to the tent they have set up at the edge of the field. A soldier from one of the choppers shouts at him to stay put, but he ignores him. He needs to hear what's going on. When he reaches the tent, the soldier who ran after him grabs him by the arm and turn him around.

"Please, I just need to listen. I'm not going anywhere," he pleads. Tommy was no idea what his face must be doing, but the soldier lets go of his arm. He turns around and listens.

"I'm going back in," he hears Evan say.

"Absolutely not," says another voice. But Evan must have made a run for it, because there's chaos on the radio for a few seconds.

"Dispatch, we need the antiviral now," he hears Ravi say, his voice filled with panic. "Bobby's been infected, too."

Tommy's stomach drops. There's only one vial; there's no way it will be enough for both Howie and Bobby.

Another voice comes on, telling them they need to prioritize Bobby, since he's only started to show symptoms and Chim is already a lost cause. The callousness of the voice makes a cold type of fury course through Tommy's veins. There's some more commotion that Tommy can't quite follow. He hears something about Athena gearing up and getting the antiviral to Bobby, more back and forth on who should get it administered. Eventually the chatter quiets down. But the more time that passes, the more scared Tommy gets. Where's Evan? Has he reached the 118? Is he wearing PPE? Where's Athena? Tommy is desperate for answers, but there's nothing he can do.

Until there's a voice coming from the radio again.

"Firefighter down, I repeat, Firefighter down!"

Hen's voice is unlike Tommy has ever heard it. Rough and filled with agony.

Oh, God. Howie...

"Hen! Is it Chim? What happened?" Evan sounds panicked now.

"No, it—It's Bobby," she rasps. He just collapsed, we can't get a pulse."

No.

Tommy's heart stops.

"No, no— HEN! YOU HAVE TO GET HIM BACK!" Evan screams.

"He's gone, Buck," Ravi says, with an emptiness in his voice Tommy has never heard in the young man's voice, usually so full of life.

Tommy thinks he hears Hen let out a sob, he hears Ravi say something about Howie, but every sound disappears from his consciousness as he hears Evan, his Evan, let out a scream so full of pain and despair that Tommy knows will hunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Tagging @qwordavoider, my love, because she inspires me and makes me brave 💗💗

[virtualreader]

cleansing the soul

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: hot showers and hot moments are two of the few pleasures left in an apocalyptic world, so instead of being embarrassed by your little unexpected encounter, you and Rick decide to take advantage of the comfortable situation that has recently came your way.

word count: 2,6k.

warnings: unprotected sex (p in v), little praising and dirty talking, etc. (not proofread)

requested: yes (by anonymous).

a/n: it may not be exactly what you asked for, but I felt like adding more than 'a little bit of smut' to this one (i was so needy), hope you like it all the same.

+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!

Showers—hot and drawn-out showers—, one of the many privileges that you and your group now enjoyed, thanks to the Alexandrians' hospitality.

The water running over your skin, carrying away the filth along with it as it reached the shower’s floor, disappearing through the drain with a little swirl. The vapor emanating from your wet body taking up the whole room, misting the bathroom’s mirror. And that purity feeling, both physical and mental, when you step out, enveloping yourself in a towel, just as if the water could wash away the stresses and turmoil of the day.

It was moments like these that made all the struggles and hardships worth it—the battles, the injuries, and even the sacrifices—just to relish in these simple pleasures once again.

It was a rare occasion to experience calm and quietness in the house, given that you lived with three adults, a teenager, and a baby. Therefore, when the house was left empty, you seized the opportunity to take a well-deserved shower.

It was a moment of solitude that you had been longing for, and you could finally let your mind wander without any interruptions.

While the house was usually bustling with activity, with Michonne on a run, Rick busy helping out around the settlement, Carl spending time with Enid, and Judith being looked after by Carol, you knew that this time the house would be empty long enough for you to fully relax and enjoy your shower.

You relished in the feeling of the warm water cascading over your body, washing away any stress or tension that had built up over the day.

As you reached for the shampoo bottle, you heard the unmistakable sound of the doorknob rattling. You paused, wondering who could be on the other side and if they intended to disturb you.

The bathroom door creaked open slowly, revealing Rick's exhausted face. His eyes darted around the shelving over the bathroom sink as he searched for whatever he came in for.

He then turned his gaze to your naked figure, barely visible through the steamy, condensated screen, a shocking expression taking over his face.

"Shit, sorry," Rick quickly apologized as soon as he saw you. "I didn't mean to—I um should've knocked. Um, I—I'II just go," he stuttered, backing away from the door.

You smiled at his flustered state, finding it endearing.

"No, it's okay," you reassured him. "You can stay if you want."

Rick hesitated for a moment before nodding and stepping inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on your body as he leaned against the sink, watching you out of the corner of his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips.

As Rick leaned against the sink, he let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"I'm grateful that we found a safe place to stay," he said, his voice filled with exhaustion and gratitude. "I don't fully trust these people, but it's been a stressful time for us and with all the uncertainty and fear 'bout where we'd end up... I don't know, 'm just glad yours and the kids' life are no longer in danger.”

He paused, his eyes scanning the bathroom before landing on your figure, still enveloped in steam from the shower.

"We're here now, Rick," you said. "I feel like we can finally start to relax and focus on rebuilding our lives." you paused again, your voice growing softer as you added, "even be a family. And I'd love you to feel the same way about all this."

The weight of your words hung in the air, each syllable carrying with it a sense of hope and determination.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you as you watched him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the bathroom lights.

For the past few weeks, life had been a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty. You and your group had been on the run, constantly on the move in search of a safe place to stay. But despite the constant danger and fear, you had managed to stick together, relying on each other for support and strength.

And now, as you stood together in the bathroom, the sound of the shower filling the room with a soothing hum, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. It was as if, for the first time in a long time, everything was going to be okay.

"I know it's not going to be easy," you reassured Rick, breaking the silence. "But we'll make it work. We always do."

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was true—you and your group had faced countless challenges and obstacles, but you had always managed to overcome them, together, despite the heartbreaking losses you've had to experience.

As you watched Rick, his eyes scanning the bathroom once again before meeting yours, you knew that this was just the beginning.

There would be more challenges to come, more battles to fight. But as long as you had each other, you were ready to face whatever the future held.

With a maneuver of his hand, Rick turned the faucet on, a strong flow of water hitting the sink's white structure almost immediately.

You observed his actions mindfully, not missing a single detail of how he prepared to shave what little beard he had had time to grow in the two weeks you had been in Alexandria, since he had shaved it off the very first day you arrived at the town.

You couldn't help but notice the intense concentration on his face as he meticulously shaved off each hair, one by one. It was clear that Rick had developed a routine when it came to shaving, perhaps as a way to keep a sense of normalcy and control in a world that was constantly changing and unpredictable.

As he reached for his face, sliding the razor over his foam-covered skin, you couldn't help but notice the intricate pattern of the veins on the back of his hand, standing out in relief as if sculpted from stone.

It was fascinating to watch the muscles in his arm flex as he expertly maneuvered the razor, his biceps bulging with each movement.

The thick, white foam spread across his face, obscuring his chiselled features, but his sharp jawline remained visible, accentuating the rugged handsomeness of his face.

The sound of the razor gliding over his skin was like a soft whisper, and the scent of shaving cream filled the air with a fresh, clean fragrance, as if he was emerging from a cocoon of foam, ready to face the day with confidence.

Rick kept glancing over at you, each time holding his gaze a little longer. The way his eyes lingered on you created a feeling of longing, as if he were silently begging you to come closer.

You couldn't help but feel your heart race a little faster each time he looked your way, wondering if he felt the same way you did.

"Rumor has it I make you nervous," you teased, breaking the comfortable silence between you and Rick.

He chuckled, his eyes still fixed on you. "Who said that?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Your eyes," you replied, gesturing to his gaze that was still fixed on your body.

He shrugged, a smirk forming on his lips. "Can you blame me? You look amazing."

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, but you couldn't deny the thrill that ran through you. "Do you not like when I look at you like that?" Rick asked, noticing your reaction.

You shook your head, biting your lip. "No, I like it," you admitted, feeling bold. "In fact, why don't you come over here and show me just how much you like it?"

He hurriedly unfastened his belt, dropping his pants onto the tiled floor. The clinking of the belt on the cold surface echoed in the room, indicating he had already freed himself from the garment. With a mischievous grin, Rick stepped closer to you, entering the shower, his clothes drenched from the shower water.

"Gladly," he murmured before pulling you into a passionate kiss.

As he looked at you, the water cascading down your body, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The way the water droplets clung to your skin, glistening in the light, was a sight to behold. And as he watched you, he couldn't help but feel his desire for you grow stronger.

"Don't you look pretty?" He said, his voice low and husky. "All wet and clean for me." He reached out his hands and pulled your soaked hair out of your face, allowing him to admire your face from his height as he towered over you.

The steam from the shower surrounded you, creating an intimate atmosphere. You felt his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your body. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but the way he looked at you made you feel desired and wanted.

"I wonder if you're half as wet down there," he said, his voice filled with a hint of teasing.

You blushed at his words, feeling a rush of heat between your legs. The way he looked at you, with hunger and desire in his eyes, made you feel like the only woman in the world. You could feel your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Guess you'll have to find out yourself," you said raggedly.

His cotton t-shirt was dropping, the water turning the fabric a shade darker than it originally was. The wet garment hugged his figure flawlessly, exalting his broad and muscular physique.

Rick continued to kiss you deeply, his lips soft and warm against yours.

You could feel the heat emanating from his body and his hand, resting on your lower back, pulling you closer. As his skin touched yours, you couldn't help but feel a rush of electricity pulsing through your veins.

The sensation of his big hand on your lower back sent shivers through your body, making your toes curl with pleasure. You could feel your heart racing and your breathing quickening, as you leaned into him, savoring every moment of this intense intimacy.

As you pressed your body against his, you could feel your clit throbbing with desire, as the intense pleasure coursed through your veins. The heat and passion between you was palpable, as you lost yourself in the moment, completely consumed by the intensity of your desire for him.

Your closed eyes may have prevented you from seeing the desire in Rick's movements, but the bite he took on your lower lip, followed by a loud moan that escaped your mouth, gave it away.

Placing a path of gentle kisses, he reached your neck, where he started sucking on your skin hard enough to leave a mark - his way of letting other men know that you were his property.

As you struggled to pull Rick's t-shirt over his head, you couldn't help but notice the way his wet skin glistened in the light. Despite the fabric fiercely sticking to him, you managed to get it off with a little effort.

Rick then bent down and grabbed you by your bare hips, pulling you towards him. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his face dug into your pussy, his fingers sinking into your skin.

It was a moment of pure ecstasy, and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure. As you looked down at him, you noticed the way his eyes sparkled with desire.

The feeling was so intense, so overwhelming, that you found yourself scratching Rick's back in a desperate attempt to let out all the pent-up frustration and need that had been building up inside you.

As you dug your nails into his skin, you could feel the muscles in his back tense and ripple beneath your touch. It was as if the intensity of your desire was being transferred through your fingertips, flowing into him and back again, creating an endless loop of need and pleasure.

Despite the warmth of the water cascading over your bodies, you could feel the sweat starting to bead on your skin, your heart racing as the pleasure intensified. You could hear the sound of your own breathing, ragged and uneven, mixing with the sound of the water hitting the shower floor.

“Turn around.” he demanded, his voice strict, yet mellow.

He grabbed your shoulders, positioning you just how he desired, and when he finally had you facing the wall, slightly bent over, his hand clasped your buttock. Using only two fingers, he traced the rim of your entrance.

“Well, you definitely are wet.” Rick whispered hoarsely as he stepped closer to you. “Is that my doing, sweetheart?”

Unable to word a coherent answer, you sighly moan. His fingers lose contact with your sensitive intimate skin, earning a craving complaint from you.

“You either use your words or I won’t go on, baby girl.”

"Ye-yes," you manage to strangle out, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. "It's all because of you, Rick.”

“Good,” he said, placing his fingers where they previously were, luckily for you. “I like having that effect on you.”

"Get over here," Rick growled, his voice low and full of desire as he distanced himself from you ever so little.

You obeyed, turning to face him, your naked body pressed against his. The heat between you was intense, and you could feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach.

Without a word, Rick lifted you up in a sudden burst, pressing your back against the shower wall. The water cascaded over your bodies, creating a sensual atmosphere that added to the intensity of the moment.

As Rick entered you, you couldn't help but cry out in pleasure. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, and you could feel your orgasm building with each thrust. Rick's movements were fast and hard, his body slamming into yours as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

And then, with one final thrust, you felt yourself explode, your body shaking with pleasure as you cried out Rick's name. It was as if all the tension, all the helplessness, all the fear and uncertainty of the past few weeks had been released in that one moment of pure ecstasy.

Rick followed soon after, his body shuddering as his hot cum spilled inside you. He leaned his forehead against yours, both of you panting heavily as the water continued to rain down on you.

You clung to him, your breathing ragged as you both came down from the high of your orgasm.

"That was..." you trailed off, your words lost in the moment.

"Amazing," Rick finished for you, a satisfied grin on his lips.

As you stood there, both of you catching your breath and trying to come back down to earth, you couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness and intimacy that went beyond physical pleasure. It was as if the act of being together, of sharing this moment of pure bliss, had brought you even closer together than before.

"Let's get cleaned up," Rick said, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you stepped out of the shower, enveloping yourself in a towel, you felt a sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the safety that Alexandria had provided, for the hot shower that you were sharing with Rick, and most of all, for the love that you shared with him.

[ao3cassandraic]

What PresAux learns about Murderbot

I've seen a lot of agita about PresAux not immediately clasping Murderbot to its (figurative, also multiple) bosom. I think if you watch without preconceptions, though, everybody's response (even Gurathin's) is on the whole pretty reasonable.

PresAux knows from the meeting with the corpos that Murderbot is cheap and old. Gurathin even shakes his head at Mensah in a "no, don't get railroaded into renting a SecUnit" moment. He also visibly slumps on finding out that Murderbot is a refurb that shouldn't be on display, asks Mensah not to go for "the cheapest one," then closes his eyes in aggravation (blink and you'll miss it; I did on the first several watches) when that's exactly the one Mensah asks to rent. I'm not actually clear on how the humming bit achieves consensus among the PresAuxers, but I'm pretty convinced that Gurathin, having at Ratthi's insistence given up his body-language sit-down protest of Mensah's decision, is going along to get along at that point.

They all ignore its request to stay in the hopper while it assesses the habitat for security, which suggests they aren't taking it particularly seriously -- it's cheap and old and on its last legs, why would they? It doesn't get up in their grille about it, annoyed though it is, which leaves their not-taking-it-seriously fully intact. Ratthi and Arada shove past it on the stairs to check out the bedrooms. Pin-Lee is marginally politer, offering it a stiff ungenuine smile.

Okay, so at this point they are definitely not thinking of it as a colleague, much less friend; save possibly for Gurathin they've written it off as unimportant. Arada, at least, tries to preserve its feelings from Bharadwaj's open microaggression. (Maybe not so micro-, at that. That was a really nasty kick-down from Bharadwaj, honestly.)

But both Arada and Bharadwaj reject Murderbot's security requests three times before the millipede surfaces. The third time is interesting: they are watching Murderbot jump down the crater wall, and flinching as it hits the ground. Concern? Maybe. But Murderbot starts shooting -- in their direction, no less! -- before the millipede surfaces, such that Bharadwaj and Arada look pretty WTF about it, which? Fair enough!

Murderbot then saves Bharadwaj and Arada from the millipede, talking Arada back to the hopper despite her shock via its Sanctuary Moon habit. Note that Gurathin isn’t there; he’s been left to mind the habitat. He only ever experiences the rescue secondhand, through Arada’s feed — and he doesn’t see how badly off she is; he can only see that she’s wholly focused on Murderbot.

Mensah is visibly shocked that Murderbot has to ask permission to enter the hopper, though she doesn’t have time to process that right then. She and Arada glance over toward Murderbot (whose back is to them) while the hopper is headed back, Arada with gratitude, Mensah with what strikes me as concern.

(Just for a moment, can I call out the foreshadowing in “I didn’t necessarily want to kill them… unless I had to.” Wowzers, does that ever land differently after ep 4!)

Mensah takes the trouble to check on Murderbot while Bharadwaj is being rushed to the habitat’s medbay. Murderbot’s nonchalance about its injuries and refusal of treatment gives her a picture of its existence that is clearly engaging her considerable sympathies…

… unlike Gurathin, who is totally freaked out, because he (thinks he) knows how SecUnits behave and it’s Not Like That. (I love the “These people were clueless” / “The SecUnit is dangerous” smash cut. Well-played, writer and director.) And then Gurathin lays his theory on everybody (except Bharadwaj), and we get a bit of common cultural context (even in Preservation): on the entertainment feeds, SecUnits always go rogue and, like, murder everybody.

(Remember the trailer scene where Murderbot’s name is revealed to PresAux? Yeah, zero surprise that several PresAuxers are scared to hear it. “The name’s Krueger, Freddy Krueger” would be scary for the same reason: cultural resonance.)

Gurathin drives this home further by insisting that Murderbot is a “killing machine,” and Mensah accepts that frame enough to repeat it back to them all. (The idea that security = killing is a Whole Damn Thing by itself, but it’s off-topic for this post, so.) She ripostes with a different frame: the need for security.

And that scene marks the establishing of a continuum of attitudes to Murderbot, with Gurathin at one end and Mensah at the other. Pin-Lee is close to Gurathin, Arada to Mensah. Ratthi’s in the middle, open to persuasion from either side, and we haven’t really found out much about where Bharadwaj’s thinking is.

The thing is — the thing is — all of their attitudes are defensible based on what they’ve seen and experienced. Nobody’s out of line here!

[allllium]

Omg your vampire Jason is amazing!!! Can we please get more???

Vampire Jason is one of my favsss 😋

Unbelievable

Vampire Jason x Reader

- This took so long bc I couldn't decide on a direction to go but here we are.

- Angsty, WC: 2466, Mentions of sickness and eating issues

- You find out your boyfriend is a vampire

There's something weird about your boyfriend.

Obviously you'd expect that from someone who has as much trauma as he does.

He's never told you exactly how he died and came back, but you know it happened.

Whatever happened seems to have changed him in a way you haven't quite put your finger on.

It's not like he's done anything wrong.

He's just off.

You've noticed the way he doesn't eat what you cook. Always having some excuse of already eating or finding a way to hide it in a napkin.

He's not as subtle as he thinks.

And it's not just the food. He often avoids sunlight and is paler than he should be. He doesn't sleep as much as he should for someone out all night.

You swear his teeth are sharper than normal.

So far in your relationship, he hasn't explained anything and you haven't gotten up the nerve to ask.

The few questions you have asked hasn't gone over well. You didn't realize in the moment how he might not respond well to you asking questions about his scars, as simple as they were.

Not only did you not get a real answer, but now there's even more tension than before on asking any questions. Even ones that have the chance to make or break your entire relationship.

It's hard knowing something is different about your boyfriend and it's even harder knowing he doesn't trust you enough to tell you about it.

"Hey Jay?" You whisper as you sit next to him on the couch. He's sitting with a book and you have your legs over his lap while you watch TV.

"Yes angel?" He responds immediately, looking away from his book to pay full attention to you.

"What's your favorite food?" You want to try and understand him better without asking his straight up and causing issues. You don't want it to seem like you're trying to trick him or going behind his back but the amount of questions you have are starting to drive you insane.

You figure since he never eats food, this is a good question to lean into it. You can see him considering his answer. "I don't know, maybe pizza. Simple but good." He explains with no problem.

"Interesting.." You murmur almost silently. He shuts his book fully and sets in aside. You've captured his attention with just one word. Of course you set your eyes back on the TV so he doesn't sense you're up to something.

"What's interesting about it?" He has one eyebrow slightly raised and looks a little concerned about where this topic is heading.

You bite your lip, faking innocence, and hesitant slightly before answering to really play it off. "Well," you sigh audibly and see him lean closer out of the corner of your eye. "I'm just a little worried, y'know I've never really seen you eat anything and eating issues are a big problem."

It takes a lot of effort to not blow your cover and smile like a clown. "What? No honey I don't any eating issues." He puts his hand on your leg in reassurance and looks distraught at your words. You can almost hear the panic in his voice.

"I've been trying to understand for a while but I finally figured it out." Once you started in this lie, it just keeps going. You hope it's enough for him to admit at least a little bit of the truth. Whatever that might be. "I honestly feel bad I didn't start trying to help sooner."

Is it still manipulating if it's for a good cause?

"What? No I swear I'm okay?" He moves closer in his attempt to calm you down. It's sweet how much he cares.

"But I can't think of any other explanation for why you never eat. It's not normal. You can tell me y'know? I only want what's best for you." Yes you're laying it on a little thick but if that's what it takes, oh well.

"And it's not just that!" You continue before he can get any words out, closing his mouth in surprise. "I mean you're so pale and you don't sleep enough and you avoid sun so much there has to be something wrong. I don't understand why you didn't tell me."

"Baby, I promise I'm not sick."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are!"

"No. I am not!"

"Yes. You. Are."

"Okay that's enough. I'm not sick."

"It's the only explanation." He gets off the couch and walks back and forth behind it.

"No it's not." He turns and says, making sure you're looking at him as he says it.

"Then what is it? From where I'm standing there's nothing normal happening." The more you say, the closer you get to reaching the answer on your own.

He rolls his eyes and starts to leave the living room, "I'm going to the bathroom."

"Liar. I've never seen you pee." You say it as a half murmer, not caring whether he hears you or not.

"Yeah that's cause I do it with the door closed." He yanks open the door of the bathroom showing how annoyed he is. You don't exactly care if he's annoyed or not. Fucking liar.

"You know what I mean!" You shout, standing from the couch. And when he slams the door closed with him behind it, you make what could be considered a very toxic decision.

Unfortunately for Jason he left his phone on the kitchen counter. While you'd never want to invade his privacy like this normally, these aren't normal circumstances.

You highly doubt you're going to find anything but the anxiety of the situation has you reaching for his phone and entering his password before you can lecture yourself into stopping.

Taking a deep breath and peaking around the corner to make sure he hasn't slipped out without you noticing. Most of his phone is full of normal guy things, at least you think, and there's nothing popping out at you.

You feel a wave of intense relief flood over you. You don't know what you thought you'd find but your extremely glad it was nothing.

Except it's not.

The moment you put his phone back in the same spot you found it, it dings. Once again, against your better instincts you pick it back up and see a text from Dick.

This is the point you really need to stop yourself.

Obviously you don't do that. The text itself is a weird ass meme but it only takes a few scrolls up before your world crashes down on you.

A heavy weight takes its well known place on your chest. Suddenly so many things click together you don't even know how to react.

- Dickhead

: So did you talk about it yet?

: You're not being a pussy about it are you

: You just gotta sit down and say Babycakes

I'm a vampire

: Maybe do a little growl while you're at it

: really sell it

- Jason's phone

: first of all I will never say the words babycakes

: you're disgusting

: second I can't just blurt it out I have to ease into it

: this is a sensitive topic

- Dickhead

: wrong

: in my experience it's best to go all in as fast as you can

- Jason's phone

: that's terrible

: this is why no one likes you

- Dickhead

: I don't take advice from cowardly vampires thank you very much

Wow you're really hoping they were joking around but the way everything clicks in place has no other explanation.

It explains all of his weird behaviors and looks. You just really really don't want it to be true. You try to focus on your breathing and calming yourself down while you out his phone back on the counter.

The only experience you have with vampires is in the form of Twilight and The Vampire Diaries. So you're not exactly sure what this entails.

He seemed really concerned to bring it up. Maybe he didn't tell you because he thought you'd leave or be scared. Damn. You can't tell if you're scared or not.

You don't think you are but it's also hard to wrap your head around your boyfriend being a vampire that literally drinks people's blood.

"Fuck." You whisper almost silently. And in doing so it makes you wonder how good his hearing really is. Whether or not he can hear you whisper to yourself in the next room is anyones guess at this point.

You're not sure what you're supposed to be feeling about this news. Most people would probably leave without a second thought but you can't even bring yourself to leave the kitchen. Jason means a lot to you and the last thing you want to do is leave him over anything like this.

However, if he lies to you about it one more time you can't guarantee it will end well.

"Stop hiding in the bathroom!" You shout, still standing at the counter with your hand on his phone protectively. You know this man well. If he has access to his phone he'll pretend he got an important message and run out the door before you have time to call it out.

He comes out sheepishly. Like he wasn't expecting you to pull him out of hiding so soon. He almost looks like a scorned child, like he knows you'll continue to tug on his lies.

He looks down at the phone under your hand and back up at you. He looks up and down, and up and down while you slowly feel your patience wearing thin.

You take a deep audible breath and he brings his eyes back to you. You don't know what to say first and the look of uncertainty in his eyes makes you want to blurt all of it out at the same time.

He either knows exactly what this conversation is about to be or has absolutely no clue.

"I can't believe you're comfortable lying with me for so long and about something so big."

His eyes widen with panic. He opens his mouth to say something but slams it shut immediately. You can see his eyes wonder everywhere but your own and he bites the inside of his cheek multiple times.

"Do you know what I'm talking about or do you have multiple secrets that could fit this situation?" You're proud of how stern you sound. Not talking any shit for an answer.

"I know what you're talking about. It's the only thing I've kept from you." He takes a few steps around the counter, slowly making his way towards you.

"Yeah it's only the biggest thing about you why bother disclosing that in a relationship." It makes you chuckle in not only frustration but disbelief in the situation.

"I didn't want to scare you. No one hears the words I'm a vampire and doesn't freak out." A few steps closer. He sounds a lot more calm than he looks.

"So what? You figured you'd tell me after our one year anniversary? Maybe the day of our wedding so I can leave after my freak out? Or possibly you'd wait until Grayson did it himself." You roll your eyes as you say your last sentence. The more you talk, the more pissed off you feel yourself getting.

You're definitely not scared, you realize. But there is no world in which you forgive him easily for this.

"Did you go through my phone?"

"Is that what you want to focus on?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I'm supposed to say to make you feel better about this."

"I'm not scared because you're a vampire, I'm not mad that you're a vampire. I am unbelievably pissed that we are eleven months into this relationship and you have lied to me every single day of it!" Tears slowly well up in your eyes. Your words get more pronounced as they continue.

"I didn't want you to leave." He's only a couple steps away from you but instead of closing the distance, he reaches his hands out towards you. You don't step away.

"And you decided to take that choice away from me completely. I can't believe I have to say this but if you are a supernatural being it is not something you hide as long as possible."

One of his hands lands on your shoulder, the other coming to rest on your waist.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. The last thing I wanted was to lie-"

"You had so many options! Am I seriously supposed to believe you chose the hardest one for you? To me it seems like you chose the easiest one to deal with." You pull away from his touch and turn the other way, preparing to leave the kitchen all together.

"Do you seriously believe I like lying to you?" He finally raises his voice to match yours. Soft enough the neighbors won't complain but enough to clearly notice."This wasn't easy for me! I love you. Do you know how hard it is to face the reality you might leave because of something I can't control! Something I never thought would be my reality!"

"Do you know how terrifying it is to have a boyfriend that never eats anything, never sleeps at night, never does anything that a normal person does. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be in a relationship like that?"

"I don't know what to say to fix this."

"I don't know either! I don't know if you can." He looks utterly defeated as he hears you say that.

"So I was right." He mutters, like it was the hardest thing he's ever said.

"No. I don't care what you are. I care that I've been worried sick this entire time that something was wrong and I might lose you. Only to find out the truth from your brother and knowing you had no plan to tell me. Seriously, Jason, when were you planning on telling me this?"

"I really don't know. Nothing felt right." You can see how upset he is. His reasons make sense and you know it. But you simply can't get over this right now.

"Okay." You whisper and leave the kitchen. He doesn't follow you or attempt to say anything else.

You try to take calming breaths as you get further away from him.

You hope you'll wake in the morning less angry. Maybe in a much better mood to hear him out.

As of right now, you know you can't sleep in the same place as him.

[erwinsvow]

can we have rafe try to grovel ?? :((((( shy reader deserves better !!! <3 https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/751213087399510016/what-if-rafe-ever-hit-shy-reader-from-built-up?source=share

he will grovel!! side note i dont know how i feel about this its just for the sweet anon who wanted part two

the moment rafe shuts the door and traps you in the room, between his body and the wall, you know some part of you has just broken that you'll never fully be able to fix.

everything in your body tells you to look up at rafe and do something. slap him back, push him away, turn around and storm out of the room and try to at least show him you're just as mad as he is—but none of that actually happens.

hot tears keep spilling down your cheeks, and you stay frozen like that for what feels like forever, staring at the floor of rafe's bedroom. the sound of rafe's heavy breaths fills the space, though you can barely detect it over the way your heart is pounding in your ears.

you want to leave. but you don't know where you even would go. before the events of the last hour, there was no where you wanted to be more than wherever rafe was. and now, staring at the floor instead of up at the boy who you had gladly given your heart to only for him to snap it in half with his bare hands and deliver it back, you stay frozen, waiting for rafe. you are always waiting for rafe.

"kid, i-" you finally look up, through wet lashes and almost painful eyes fluttering slowly, and rafe stops talking the moment you do. you don't know why, but it doesn't take you long to figure it out. there's a mark on your cheek the size of his hand, probably an imprint from his ring too.

it's such a shame—you always loved that ring.

you snap out of your thoughts when rafe keeps talking, though there's still blooding rushing in your ears. he sounds muffled, his mouth moving and expression looking, you can only imagine, somewhat close to yours—sad and angry all blended together. you keep blinking slowly, listening but not really listening, waiting for him to finish so you can leave.

how stupid you must seem to him, and to yourself, you think pathetically. he just hit you, and you're waiting for him to finish, so you don't impolitely interrupt. you should drive straight from tannyhill to a therapist's office—though you think not even a licensed professional could help you figure out what exactly is wrong with you.

the thought makes you laugh, corners of your mouth turning up and a rush of air leaving your throat. half a laugh, half a sob. the gutting realization has just hit you—whatever was wrong with you, rafe was the only one in the world who seemed to understand you.

"baby?" rafe asks, and you actually snap out of it this time—looking up at your boyfriend, wondering if he knows you haven't heard a single thing he's said so far.

"i think i should go home," you reply, wondering where your keys are and where your wallet is. you don't keep track of these things anymore, usually since rafe drives you everywhere and pays for everything.

"okay. i'll bring you, just let me go get-"

"no, i-" you stop yourself—about to apologize again. everything running through your mind makes you choose your words carefully. "i'm gonna go home."

"you didn't drive here, kid. i picked you up, remember?" rafe looks back at you and you feel a fresh wave of tears take over. you hadn't remembered.

"oh."

"listen, kid, i'm so-"

"i'm going home," you repeat firmly, mostly to yourself. "i'll just-i'll walk."

"y'not walking. it's dark and-"

"rafe, stop." the way you say it, he actually listens. you don't sound like yourself, you can tell from the way he looks at you, rafe's face doused with concern and apprehension. you look away, turning to face the door. "i'll be fine. i need to go."

"c'mon, kid, don't go," he says, and every bone and muscle inside you wants to listen, to do what he says like you always do. you feel more hot tears coming up, stopping them seems impossible yet you know crying is useless. it already happened and the damage is already done.

you turn around from your position, knowing it's a mistake. rafe gets closer, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. he holds your face like he always does, except there's one big difference—you flinch the moment he starts moving.

"baby," rafe says quietly, and everything in you stops for a moment. brain lagging, breath catching, even the tears stop for a second while you look up at your boyfriend. "i'm so sorry. i am so sorry. i fucked up, okay? i know i did, but please don't go."

"rafe, i can't stay," it comes out just as quietly, a notch above a whisper. "you hurt me." it comes out wrangled in a sob. rafe wipes away some of your fresh tears with his hands.

"i-i know. and i'm gonna regret it forever, but-" rafe stops, and you stop too. you chew on your lip nervously, realizing it's going to bleed from how much you're biting down. "can-can i at least bring you home? please?"

"okay," you give in-but you shouldn't have.

you don't even know how you're gonna explain the mark on your face to your parents, or why you're home so early when you said you were sleeping over. every movement feels exhausting—grabbing some of your things and walking down the stairs to getting into rafe's truck. the drive to your place isn't very long, only ten minutes, and you stare out the window the whole time. it feels like hours with the way rafe looks at you at each red light.

rafe pulls into your driveway and you look up at him expectantly, though you're not sure why.

"can you-can you turn the headlights off? i don't want them waking up," you say, after what feels like ages of silence.

rafe turns the lights off but doesn't say anything. it's not until you reach for the doorhandle that he does—it's almost muscle memory for him. he leans over you to pull the handle and open the door for you, but you flinch so hard when he moves that he can't even get the door. instead he looks back at you while you stare up at him. without any words, you both know what the other is thinking.

"goodnight, rafe," you say, your own hand on the door now.

"wait, kid," he says, and you stop your movement immediately. even in this situation, you can't help but listen. "can i see you tomorrow? please?"

"i don't think that's a good idea."

"c'mon. we-we have to talk about this. i can't just.. not see you. i'm gonna go crazy."

"i need to go rafe." the second you say it, you start feeling bad about it. it's so engrained in you—trying to avoid hurting rafe in any and every way possible, that the very idea of not giving him what he wants makes your chest ache painfully. "i.. i have to think about it."

he leans over, slowly this time so you don't get scared again, opening the door for you like he always does. you climb out, getting your bag and trying to pretend everything's fine until you get inside your room.

"good night, kid. i'll talk to you tomorrow."

without replying, you walk inside. rafe's truck stays in your driveway until you lock the door, and he doesn't drive away until minutes after.

surprisingly, you make it to your room before you start crying. and you don't stop crying until the sun comes up.

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so maybe giving his calling card to a kid was a bad idea. He sees that now. Unfortunately, it's too late to take it back. On the bright side, the kid wasn't going to be able to figure out who he is yet based solely on a summoning circle. In the pitch black void of things, Danny can sense the card and the person who's holding it.

Maybe if he leaves Fawcett fast enough he can keep plausible deniability because there's no way that the tiny homeless kid he just met is Captain Marvel. Nope, no way. Not his circus, not his monkeys. He's leaving now.

"What happened to you?" Deadman had an insufferable grin on his face. Did he have the House drop him in Gotham? Danny wouldn't put it past him.

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Where ya going?"

"To the basement."

"Why?"

Was the other ghost always this annoying? "Because leaving was a terrible idea. I'm going to go hide in the basement until the day I fully die."

"Aw," Deadman tried to pout, but he failed and started to cackle. "Don't be like that. Did you not enjoy your trip to Gotham?"

Danny was a lot of things. Violent usually didn't make it onto that list. However, he was willing to make an assumption. "So it was your fault."

Another cackle. "Don't be like that! You've never been to Gotham before. You can't tell me you at least didn't have fun."

They were at the basement stairs now. "For your information, I have been to Gotham. I didn't get to do much exploring this time because Batman and his gaggle of sidekicks surrounded me!"

"You've been to Gotham?"

"Not important."

"Oh?" The glee on the full ghost's face made Danny uneasy. "I sense a story behind that."

Oh, no. "No. I'm not telling you." He marched past and down the stairs, not bothering to unlock or open the door.

"Please!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said 'no'."

"Party pooper." he huffed. "You know I'm just going to keep asking, right?"

A sigh. "I'm not gonna cave. No."

"Ah, but you will!" That was the confidence of a ghost who knew he was right. Danny did not like how that bodes for him. "You, my friend, are a younger sibling. I am also a younger sibling."

Shit. "That....That means nothing. My answer will stay 'no'."

Deadman had the gall to chuckle darkly. "We'll see." Then, he disappeared.

Danny didn't sigh because he doesn't need to breathe. He was not going to tell what happened because what happens in Gotham stays in Gotham. It's a rule of thumb that people don't cross. Besides, Deadman doesn't know that Danny's actually the middle sibling. Dani, introduced to his parents soon after he'd told them he was a Halfa, was the embodiment of younger sibling because he had once been the embodiment of younger sibling.

***

"Please get Deadman to stop!" Danny begged Zatanna three weeks later. Maybe he'd overestimated himself a little bit.

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow as she looked up from the book she'd been reading. Something on runes? "What's he doing this time?"

"He won't stop asking me to tell him about my first trip to Gotham."

"You've been to Gotham?"

Danny groaned into the throw pillow he was clutching. "Yes. Please make him stop!"

"Sorry, hun," she focused back on her book, "But I can't see him."

"Oh. I forgot about that."

"Why don't you just tell him?"

Danny shot up, appalled by the very idea. "It's a matter of principle!" he exclaimed, "I am both the older and younger sibling: The middle child. If I give in, I'll have failed! I can't do that. Do you want me to fail?!"

"Okay, okay, geez!" she surrendered, "Don't gotta be so overdramatic about it."

"I'm not being overdramatic! I'm being just dramatic enough!"

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say, kid."

"I'm not a kid!"

"You look like one."

"Yeah, but I'm not! I'm-"

"King of the Infinite Realms," Constantine interrupted, "We know."

"Then don't call me a kid."

"Yeah, yeah, kid,"

"I'm not-!"

"Look, we can have this argument all day and we'll still end in a tie. I've got a case in San Francisco near Titan's Tower. Raven's coming along. Do you want to come with?"

"Don't you normally work solo?" Danny asked. Zatanna still hadn't looked back up from her book and he was pretty sure she'd tuned them out.

"Is that a 'no'?"

"No! No, I'll come with." Maybe having Constantine with him will deter the JL from hounding him. What do they even want with him? If they're upset that he died at fourteen, he's gonna scream.

The Brit smirked. "You sound almost desperate to get out."

"Shut up and let's go."

"Alright, alright."

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders

[lover-of-mine]

I NEED YOUR COLOR THEORIES ON BUDDIE MATCHING AND TOMMY LOOKING OUT OF PLACE COLOR-WISE AND THE "YOU WANTED THE RED ONE?" COMMENT THAT BUCK MADE LIKE I NEED IT RIGHT NOWWW

Hello my love, welcome to the madness!

First of all, this scene is 100% about Eddie, but for a second they try to make you think that it is about bt. They start with a very odd angle of Eddie's living room, I did not recognize it at first, so it kinda leads you to believe that we are about to get some domestic bt but then the camera quite literally does a 180 and we are suddenly focused on Eddie with Eddie in the middle, they are there to help create this illusion that Eddie is okay and everything is fine, just as much as the decorations that are only placed where Chris would be able to see.

We're also back to the triangle formation they were being put constantly during Buck's coming out arc, which is interesting in many ways, because they put Eddie in the middle, and while I don't love to put a lot of weight into interviews, both Tim and Oliver have talked about the way Tommy is not gonna interfere with buddie, so I'm intrigued about the role Eddie is gonna play within whatever "finding out uncomfortable truths" means.

I don't know how to fully form my thoughts about the scene as whole, but I know yall want me to talk color, and boy, do I have shit to say.

First off, Tommy's hat. I've been going kinda crazy trying to figure out if that damn hat is green or blue, because when I swatch it from different points of the scene, I get different undertones.

Currently, I'm working under the assumption that it is supposed to be a shade like this, like a dark petrol color, that is meant to be ambiguously blue and green.

Why would it be relevant for his color to be ambiguous in this context? Well, the complementary color to red is green and the complementary color to orange is blue.

I've talked about this a lot when talking about Buck and the way they use green as his something is wrong color, but the goal with complementary colors is to create contrast, so they are making Tommy contrast Buck and Eddie's, red and orange, hats. And there's also the way the letters and the streamer Eddie is holding are red. So while Buck and Tommy are the couple and Eddie is supposed to be the one outside, visually, Buck and Eddie are presented as a unity while Tommy stands out. There's also the way Tommy's lighter shades contrast Buck's darker.

They did something similar at the bachelor party, while the green and pink aren't exactly matchy from a color theory view, their outfits are explicitly stated as a matching costume, in pastel colors, contrasting the choice to put Tommy in a dark blue color, again with Eddie in the middle.

There's something about the way that Buck asks "I'm sorry, did you want to red one?" and Tommy completely ignores it in favor of turning the cones into a flirty comment, is that on a meta-level, since the party is red, and Buck himself wears red a lot, Tommy is yet again rejecting Buck's attempt to bring him in deeper into his life, to find that space where he would fit.

Something else just because this made Alli laugh, the decorations are red, but Tommy is blowing up a green balloon, and well, green is the breakup color and that is funny on its own, but considering the way the party is red, to have him with the opposite color balloon is yet another way to show the lack of effort, to make you aware he does not fit in with the Buckley Diaz family unity, and by consequence doesn't fit in in Buck's life.

But now talking Buck and Eddie specifically. Eddie is in a warmer version of the colors Buck is wearing. They match.

Even the red and orange thing we have going with the hats. Because red and orange are analogous colors, that means they are side by side in the color wheel, and they are meant to create a harmonious look, it's about cohesion, creating visual unity, it's the same principle the show uses to make the blue and green thing work (way too long meta on the blue and green), because since you have the same base color, it's easy to make them make sense together. (Also orange is red with yellow 👀 Eddie working his way to his yellow shade queer arc, I believe in you).

About Buck and the brown. Not a very Buck color. But it is interesting that we have Buck in brown when Eddie needs support and Buck wasn't there, when Eddie needs support and Buck is trying his best to fix it, and when Eddie needs support and finally asks for it.

Buck is here to be something for Eddie to rely on, and the color brown is used for comfort, stability in a positive setting. But also, negatively, brown is used for loneliness, so they are playing with both meanings here with the way they are both in brown.

Also about Eddie and the brown. Eddie wears a lot of earth tones, but that brown is entirely way too reddish for him. And it's something because during the whole Kim fiasco and when Chris leaves, he is in maroon, they used the color as an indication something is wrong.

So while Eddie is still trying to pretend he's fine, he is still partially in that red, from the shade to everything about the decorations.

So this was yet another way to establish Buck as Eddie's support system, and that Tommy doesn't fit in.

I think this is all, if you read all this, I love you 💜

Tagging the people who interacted with this about being tagged in my metas, you can do that too if you wanna be tagged

@sparkedblaze @caw-salem @dreamofsomepiphany @100ceruleaneyes @linus-lucy @chaosqueery @gina-spike @chimchiminie98 @elvensorceress @dangerpronebuddie @ijustdontlikepeople @182daysof @steadfastsaturnsrings @sparklespiff @inell

[maelancoli]

PADDING OUT DIALOGUE SCENES

in another round of very unprompted writing advice i thought i figured i'd share my two cents when it comes to the topic of struggling to fill out conservational scenes. another thing i see a LOT of lately is a general fretting among writers who find that dialogue comes easily to them but the rest is a struggle. for me it's often been the opposite, i had to work at honing the talking part but description? i've always done a little too much tbqh. but funny enough the solution for both is not disconnected.

a lot of it will come down to knowing your character. what are their ticks? what are their filler words? are they bold and expressive when they're speaking? or are they withdrawn and shy? deciding the behavioral quirks of your character will improve your instincts when trying to be more descriptive. do they fidget with their clothes? do they pick up objects and toy with them? do they fold their arms around themselves or have other defensive posture? where do their eyes go when they speak? do they look around a lot? do they have an intense, unwavering gaze? do they zone out to look at other objects? what are they looking at when they do look away to think or listen? (this is also where having a faceclaim to build characteristics and mannerisms around can be helpful, not just in rp settings but any kind of fiction.)

"i guess...i don't really know how i'm supposed to feel about it," he admitted.

okay so we already have information here to expound on. the character is uncertain and conflicted. how would that effect their demeanor outwardly?

"i guess..." he trailed off with a sigh. he shook his head and his gaze grew unfocused, wandering away from his companion to stare blankly at a clock on the mantelpiece. his index finger tapped lightly at his knee. "i don't know how i'm supposed to feel about it, ya' know?" amir admitted with a shrug. he finally looked at the other man again, but there was a vulnerability which brought a sheepish shadow to his tumultuous gaze.

we've shown he is pensive with a wandering eye and that he's a little uncomfortable with his nervous tick of tapping. the next step is to consider the inner workings of their PoV. what does the scene itself call for them to be doing and thinking between lines? what does the emotion and tension of the scene—or even the comfort and familiarity of it—reflect inside them?

"you don't have to know right now," malik pointed out. he lifted his hands from where they had rested on the surface of the table to turn his palms outward, leaning in closer. "it's okay not to know." they held one another's gaze for a silent moment. amir's lips pressed together and he swallowed down the lump which had formed in his throat. he was not an emotional man. he had always prided himself on his restraint. but it was all beginning to be too much and the empathy in his friend's eyes was only another weight upon his already bowed shoulders. "...maybe you're right," he mumbled thoughtfully.

here we have shown his friend's gesture, adding more presence to the environment around them. and then we have given a little space for the character to feel. we have given a little information about who he is, or at least how he thinks about himself. by bringing his eyes back to his companion we have shown he is opening up, he is actually leaning into the intimacy of comfort and listening. but the mumble shows he is still not confident in admitting the need for help. it shows he has not even accepted fully the grace he's being given.

it isn't just what a character is saying, it's how they're saying it. it's how they're carrying themselves. it's how they're receiving the other characters' words. and showing how they're carrying themselves along with their inner feelings will also help show what is driving their dialogue. it will create a contrast if they're not being a reliable narrator, if they're contradicting or if they're withholding etc.

taking time and being patient with yourself to expound upon these things and to develop your character will make them more real. the more you practice and get to know them, the more instinctive and natural it will become!