#it's fun to see all the different weapons this party uses

[undertale-plays-dnd]

Party Height Chart

Here are the heights of the characters. This will be useful to me because I have got to draw these characters consistently. Yay, they all have unique silhouettes (kinda)!

I need to practice drawing these guys (and all the different D&D races).

Here are the character sheets if you want more info on these guys. Vida, Trix, Rune, Cursive, and Kit.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

I remember you making a post about possibly making a neglected hero/vigilante reader so all I'm thinking about is nh! Reader just acting or being DC's version of moon knight and having beef with a DC villain or the DC version of Dracula. like we act unhinged with the batfam as a coping mechanism so they just see us as batshit crazy and impulsive but everyone else gets the more strategic and thoughtful side

(Omg I'm sorry this turned out so much longer then needed -💠)

(SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG YOU BARELY DONT EVEN REMEMBER SENDING THIS ASK AHHH)

Reader is definitely Red x. No question, ask they're definitely.

Red X reader has too much fun terrorizing the Teen Titans and Young Justice at the same time. You basically stole big brother Dicks whole flow by taking his costume. You get to fit in while taking his weapons and being inspired by some of his other gear, like his batons, and making them way more lethal. He'll be absolutely shocked and confused why somebody has his old Red X costume and how come they look way better in it than he does. It's just not fair. You're having fun bullying Damian and Jon, pushing those boys around like rag dolls as they try to take you down. Villain or hero, you're just in it for the fun, really. Sometimes, you will team up with the bats, but other than that, you’re ruining them. You trashed Bruce’s Batmobile on a joyride with some of your villain friends. Got to say, the kids at the H.I.V.E. really know how to party. You stole Jason’s motorcycles and modified them to match your whole Red X aesthetic. Tim literally hates you. Back when he had a crush on Connor, you were too busy flirting with him. You're messing around with Damian any chance you get, being the cooler older sibling that his teammates from the Teen Titans look up to—simply just bullying him because he's shorter. Wait until those Bruce Wayne genes kick in! But the funny thing is, none of them know you're actually Red X. You keep it hidden to the point where they honestly believe that you two are different people. And here you thought Bruce Wayne was a good detective; he doesn't even think his own kid is Red X! Last time you left your costume out in the open in front of Steph, you joked that it was for a cosplay. Thank goodness she was dumb enough to believe you. And being Red X, you can talk as much trash as you want. Duke is your permanent op when he signals, but you two are pretty indifferent about each other. You pick a fight with Cass every moment you get, having trouble learning your body language and fighting style. You're just so weird and confusing that she almost figured you out during a fight; you pretended to be weakened and hopeless just so she would get off your back. Idiots, I swear, it's fun being the outcast of the family.

[pirateprincessblog]

2 batteries away

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG

Also I miss Rick very much 🥺

*

"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.

you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.

"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.

"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."

"viagra? for who?"

you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.

"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.

you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.

"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.

"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.

"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.

"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"

"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"

rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.

"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."

one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.

"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."

"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."

"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"

"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."

"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.

rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.

"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."

he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.

you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.

"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.

you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."

"mmh."

he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.

"shoes." he says after some time.

"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.

"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."

you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.

"you?" he asks.

"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."

"shit, girl, oversharing much?"

"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.

"not female underwear. your underwear."

you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.

"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."

and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.

"oh, i also wish to find-"

"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."

ew.

ew.

ew.

he did not.

"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"

how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.

"well the age fits the description."

"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.

arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.

"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.

you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.

"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."

"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.

"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."

if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.

you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.

"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.

you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.

daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.

"dammit."

you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.

"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."

"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."

he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.

"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.

"wha'?"

you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.

"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"

your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.

"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"

"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."

you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.

"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.

"you gonna go get 'em?"

"why would i go? you go."

"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."

you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.

"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.

you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.

"it's a wand."

"wand?"

"yes."

"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.

"masturbating."

thud.

you look down, mortified. he better not break it.

"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"

"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."

you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.

feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.

"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.

he spares you a glare, and continues walking.

"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"

"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."

"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."

"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.

you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.

"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."

he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.

you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.

not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.

after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.

you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.

you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.

fuck it.

you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.

taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.

you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.

you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.

something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.

"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.

your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.

"the hell?"

your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.

"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.

"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"

"I-"

"is that my vest?"

he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.

"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."

"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.

your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.

"it's not like that-"

"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've  put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"

he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.

"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."

what?

"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."

silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.

tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.

"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.

"since rick chose to trust me."

you hum, understanding.

"listen-"

"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.

his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.

"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."

"i'm older than you. way older than you."

"so?"

"i could be your father."

"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."

"why do you get so triggered by it?"

you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.

"because."

"why?"

"doesn't matter."

"tell me," he presses further.

you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."

you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.

tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.

"wha- what are you-"

"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.

you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.

"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.

you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.

"don't be. or else i might regret this."

you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.

"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.

"just hush."

and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.

you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.

"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"

"nah."

before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.

it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.

"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.

he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.

"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."

for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.

"needed someone older to take care of ya."

you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.

daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.

"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.

"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"

you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.

"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."

"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.

"i'd split you in half, little one."

every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?

"then, what are we doing?"

he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.

"you share toys?"

"sometimes."

"good."

he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.

"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.

"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."

nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.

he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.

"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.

"give me a second."

you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.

"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.

he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.

you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.

"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.

"i wanted to. before, today, too."

"you sure?"

"yes."

you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."

"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."

he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."

you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.

"oh, you- you- you asshole!"

"right back at ya."

***

yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷

[togrowoldinv]

Memory

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You feel like you’ve met her before, but you just can’t remember when or how. It turns out there’s a lot you don’t remember

Note: Hey y’all. I have been swamped these last couple of weeks studying for and taking a part of the cpa exam, but I finally had a free moment to have some fun. I went and saw Argylle, so this is loosely inspired by that. Enjoy it!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

The room is silent aside from the clicks of a keyboard as Natasha tries to break through a firewall. She’s smart, but the person who created it is slightly smarter than her.

The redhead smirks when she is one step from breaking through, but her cheekiness doesn’t last. An alarm sounds and she’s met with at least ten agents swarming all around her.

“Oh hey, guess you guys found the party,” she says in her usual cool under pressure tone.

She uses the agents’ hesitation to begin attacking them to deal the first blows. She takes them down two at a time until there’s only one left. She knows who he is.

“Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Natasha asks.

“You know what I want,” he says.

“And you know what I want,” Nat replies.

The two of them keep their guns in ready position. Nat alerted for backup, but she knows most likely she’ll have to handle this on her own.

“Where is the woman?” The man asks. He shakes his gun at Nat. She sees a weakness in the way he’s holding it. He won’t last.

“If you give me the intel, I’ll give you her location,” Nat says.

“You’re lying!”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m telling you the truth. They’re never really that different, right?”

“Drop your weapon,” he tries another tactic.

Natasha just smirks. She moves her left arm down and the man mistakenly thinks she’s giving in. The moment he shifts his aim Nat takes a shot at him. It’s an easy shot for her.

He goes down and Nat finishes gathering her data from the computer before she quickly gets out of the building. That backup she was waiting for finally arrives as she’s making her way outside.

“Thanks for the help,” she says sarcastically as Steve opens the door for her.

“Sorry,” he says. “We can’t be everywhere all the time. What were you even doing here?”

“Gathering intel,” Nat says simply. She shows him the flash drive and he just shakes his head. “The more I can find out the better I can help her, Steve. It’s an easy choice to make.”

“Nat, she’s so far gone,” he tries. “It might be worth stopping.”

“I’ll never give up on her. She’ll be herself again. I know it,” Natasha says. “Now, will you help me get this to Stark to decode?”

“Of course I’ll help you, Romanoff.”

She nods in thanks. For the rest of the drive, Natasha thinks about what her next step should be. There’s no easy fix to this situation. She needs to go where her mind works best.

Meanwhile, you are working on cleaning tables when the most beautiful woman walks in. You’ve seen her in here several times since you started working here.

She always sits at the table in the corner and orders coffee and a piece of chocolate pie. It’s always the same thing. You’ve never waited on her before, but somehow the stars align today and you’re covering that section.

You walk to her table and take a deep breath. She’s even more beautiful from this close up.

“Hey, how are you today?” You ask her.

“I’m okay,” she replies. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” you say. It’s your typical response when a customer asks you that question. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”

She orders her usual. You feel her eyes linger on you as you pour the coffee and bring her slice of pie to the table.

Something feels familiar about the way she smiles at you in thanks.

“Do I know you?” You ask her. She doesn’t reply, but you notice she looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just that I had some memory loss so I’m just not quite sure who I know at this point.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” she says. “I don’t think we know each other though, no.”

“You seem familiar,” you tell her.

“Well, I am an Avenger so maybe that’s it,” she says. “I’m Natasha.”

“Right. The superheroes. It’s nice to meet you, Natasha,” you say. “I’m y/n.”

You hold out your hand for her to shake. When she does, you swear there’s still a lingering feeling that you know her. Maybe you’ve just seen her on television.

“I better get back to work,” you say.

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Natasha says.

She stands from her chair and drops cash on the table. Walking towards the door, she stops short and turns back to look at you. You offer her a smile that she returns.

With that, she disappears into the city. The rest of the day goes by seemingly without any other excitement. You can’t stop thinking about your interaction with the woman, which is why you thought you were dreaming when she shows up at your door.

You blink hard to try and wake up, but the reality is that she’s truly here.

“Natasha?” You ask confusedly.

“I don’t have time to explain,” she says. “Can I come in?”

“I- what? Okay?”

She takes that as a yes. She walks inside and goes straight to the corner of the room where she picks up a piece of the floor to reveal a secret storage area.

Natasha fills her bag with the weapons that were stored under the floor.

“What is happening?” You ask her.

“Just trust me,” Nat says.

“I just met you today and you somehow know about this secret area of my house I didn’t even know about. And I’m supposed to trust you?”

“Yes,” Natasha replies. “Come on. Get some shoes on. We have two minutes.”

“Two minutes before what?”

She doesn’t get the chance to answer before a loud bang comes from outside. A series of car doors close simultaneously.

“Look, I know you don’t know me but you have to trust me. These guys are after you and if we don’t bail in the next thirty seconds we’re dead. Got it?” Natasha says.

“What?” You ask. It seems to be the only word in your vocabulary right now.

She grabs your hand and pulls you through your house. Once you’re outside, you go through the fence to the neighbors yard.

“Here,” Nat says, pulling you to a motorcycle that’s waiting there.

“I am not riding on that,” you say.

“Then you’ll be dead within minutes. Come on, y/n,” Nat says. She puts the helmet on your head involuntarily.

You have no choice but to listen to her. Hopping onto the bike, you hold on tight to her middle as she drives through the streets. At some point, a van is tailing the two of you. Natasha turns down every alleyway and street she can to get you away from the tail.

“When I say jump, you’ve got to jump!” Nat says over the roar of the engine.

“What?”

You’re quickly approaching a road that you can see has no end. She drives full speed ahead before letting go of the handlebars.

“Jump!” Nat shouts.

You cling onto her as you both jump. You have no idea how far the drop is but somehow you land in water. Natasha pulls you to the surface quickly.

You get to shore and try to gather yourself some. You’re so confused about all of this.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Am I okay?” You ask her. “Seriously, you’re asking me that? I don’t know who you are or what’s happening. We just got chased by a van through town and jumped off a motorcycle into a fucking lake. Do you think I’m okay?”

The woman has the audacity to smile at your words.

“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?” You ask her, feeling fury seethe inside you.

“No,” Natasha says too quickly. “No, it’s just- nevermind. We have to get to the Avenger’s compound.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you tell her matter of factly.

“Y/n-“

“Don’t!” You interrupt her. “Just leave me alone.”

Nat raises her hands in surrender and watches as you walk away. She lets you get ten steps ahead before she follows after you.

“I told you to let me be.”

“You’re up there all alone. I just happen to be walking in the same direction,” Natasha reasons. “Although, the compound is the other way.”

Despite the fact that you were just doing insanely dangerous tasks with her, you feel a certain safety in her presence.

“Why should I go with you?” You pose a question.

You notice her hesitation in answering. Like she wants to tell you something but she just can’t.

“If you just come with me, I’ll explain everything there. Okay? Please give me a chance,” Nat says. “I won’t be responsible for them finding you and finishing the job.”

“What job? I’m just a waitress. Who could I possibly have wronged?”

“I promise I’ll explain later,” Nat says. “Please follow me.”

You relent and follow her. There’s no reason for you to trust her but somehow you do. It doesn’t take long to get to the compound once Nat hot wires a car.

“Y/n?” A girl asks when you are inside. You look at her despondently and she frowns. Natasha gives he’s her a look.

You follow Natasha to what seems to be a laboratory. There’s a large screen on the wall.

“Ah welcome,” a man says. You recognize him as Iron Man. “You’re just in time.”

“For?” You ask.

“The truth,” another man answers. You’re pretty sure he’s Captain America.

Before you can speak again, photos of you litter the screen. There are some of just you and some of you and the other Avengers.

“What the hell?” You wonder aloud.

“Y/n, we wanted you to remember on your own but it’s taking too long,” Tony Stark explains. “Natasha tried to jog your memory just by being in your presence, but that didn’t work.”

“So I do know you?” You ask the woman.

“You know all of us, y/n. You’re an Avenger.”

“But I’m- no. I’m a waitress,” you say. Your head feels like it’s spinning.

“That’s what they made you think, but you’re not. You’re a special agent,” Steve says. “And one of the best.”

“I don’t believe you. This is all a joke, right?”

“It’s not a joke, y/n. Why do you think we knew those people were after you? Or that I knew about the floor in your house?” Natasha asks.

“That’s easy. You’ve been spying on me.”

“No,” she says simply.

“Then how?” No response. “This is just insane. I’m leaving.”

You start to walk away. You hear Natasha’s footsteps behind you.

“Natasha,” a warning voice comes from Tony. “Don’t.”

“You know what, you go ahead. Take a car of ours, y/n,” she says.

She holds up a pair of keys. You reach for them, but instead of giving them to you she throws a punch your way.

You surprisingly dodge it with ease. Natasha smirks at the way you look at your arms in confusion.

“How did I do that?”

“Come on, throw one,” she taunts you.

You do your best to punch her, but of course she dodges it. You spar back and forth until you’ve both had enough.

“Great, now that that’s over. Do you believe us?” Tony asks.

“I’m not sure,” you say. “How could I not know I’m an agent?”

“Brainwashing,” Natasha answers. “Very effective brainwashing.”

“But why?”

“Because you were going to uncover a huge invasion of Hydra in the government,” Steve explains. “We still can’t find the data that you had before they took it from you and erased all of your memories.”

“So the memory loss, that was a real feeling I was having?”

“It was,” Nat says. “The reason why wasn’t a car accident as they told you though. They captured you and essentially knocked you senseless.”

You rub your hands over your face as you try to take all of this in. Just a few hours ago you thought you knew who you were, but they’re telling you something completely different.

“We wanted you to remember on your own, so it might not be so overwhelming,” Nat says.

“So, we’re all what? Coworkers? Friends? I don’t remember any of you, or anything you’re describing,” you say.

“We’re friends,” Steve says. “You’re friends with all of us and with Nat-“

“Steve,” Nat interrupts. “She doesn’t need to hear that right now.”

“I don’t need to hear what?”

There are shouts down the hallway that interrupt your conversation. Tony suits up and Steve grabs his shield.

“Get her to safety,” he tells Nat.

She grabs your hand and takes you down the hallway to a door and down a ton of stairs. Nat locks a door behind her once you’ve reached the lowest level.

“They’ll handle them,” Nat says. “But the further you are from the fight the better.”

“What was Steve going to say?”

“Hm?”

“About you and me,” you prompt her.

Natasha tears her eyes from yours much the same way she did when you questioned if you knew her earlier.

“Natasha, please just tell me. Clearly, everything I thought I knew was a lie. What’s one more thing?”

“Okay,” she agrees. “We were- you and I were together.”

“Together?”

She nods.

“Define together. Like dating?”

“Kind of yeah,” she says. You look at her for more details. The silence prompts her to continue. “We were married. We are technically married.”

“Oh,” you say.

“Yeah. I didn’t think you were ready to learn that,” Nat says.

“So that’s why you knew your way around my place?”

“Our place,” she says. “But they moved all of my stuff out before you went back there.”

“Natasha, I don’t- I can’t remember anything,” you say.

“I know,” Nat says sadly. “We kept our distance once we realized what they did to you, but we’ve never stopped making sure you were safe.”

You hear the sound of the fight getting closer. Natasha reaches for your hand. She places a loaded gun in your palm.

“I want to remember.”

“You will,” Nat says. “But right now, you’ve got to fight.”

To be continued…

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 02 : get a grip ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : none , bucky's an awkward guy <3

|| wc : 2.2k

Clint’s birthday went wonderfully, at least, in Tony’s eyes. There was a big celebration in the Tower, lots of people were invited. Well, actually most of them were just Clint’s friends from SHIELD as well as the Avengers. Even Peter and his aunt were invited! It was a fun celebration.. Well, to everyone but Bucky.

It wasn’t like Bucky hated parties, no in fact he loved them! At least, he was supposed to, back in the 40s, he loved to go to parties before.. Everything. Ah, but now? He was sitting at the bar, silently drinking some alcoholic drink that wouldn’t make him even the slightest bit tipsy. The only people here that were completely sober were the spider kid, his aunt, and Bucky. Even Steve was drunk from whatever Asgardian drink that Thor had brought this time. Not that Bucky minded, he loved seeing Steve happy. No, what was bothering him was that the spider punk was bothering him now.

“Oh! And- and one time there was a bank robbery back home and they were all wearing masks of everyone- well, not everyone everyone. But! They were wearing Mr. Stark and Mr. Roger masks and other Avengers,” Peter rambled on, swirling his apple juice in one hand as he leaned against the bar table.

Bucky just nodded along with any story that Peter was talking about.. In all honesty, Peter reminded him of his little sister.. But more annoying.

“But I took them down! It was actually really easy! Except that they had this weird weapon, like really weird! It went all boosh!” He made finger guns and pointed them at Bucky. “Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky bit back a sigh and just grunted in response as he took another swig of vodka. Might as well have the strongest drink and not get drunk, right?

“What was it like back in the 40s?”

Bucky spared a glance over to Peter, his eyebrow raised. He didn’t expect this, didn’t expect curiosity from the kid. “It was.. Different.”

“Liiike?”

“Loud. But not like it is now.” Bucky shrugged, in all honesty, he didn’t remember much due to the whole brainwashing thing, but what he did remember were.. Pictures, sounds. He remembered the music and how it made him feel. He remembered things from his childhood. “Steve ‘n I used to skip school a lot. Steve, uh, hated doin’ it, but I forced him to.” Bucky chuckled as he remembered, maybe he was getting tipsy ‘cause usually he wouldn’t be so open about his past. Or maybe the kid was easy to talk to, easier than the other avengers.

“We used t’skip and go to the greasy spoon a block away from our school, buy an ice cream soda with two scoops for us both. If we were lucky, we’d run into some dames and take a powder to the nearest place we can go for a dance.” As Bucky reminisced of the past, his inner Brooklynn boy came out and he started spitting slang from back then left and right. He didn’t even realize until he turned back to Peter who had the biggest smile on his face, but was so confused.

“That sounds fun!” Peter chuckled and took a sip of his apple juice, an awkward silence forming between the two before he asked. “Do you miss it?”

Bucky took a second and shrugged, he didn’t know if he did. It was simpler, yeah, but nowadays he has freetime. Didn’t have to fight every second of the day when he woke up. Didn’t have to worry about HYDRA controlling him, sure, he struggled with episodes sometimes, but.. He had Steve, he wasn’t alone. Wasn’t in the trenches.

“I don’t miss the war if that’s what you’re askin’, kid”

Peter chuckled and opened his mouth to speak again before May tapped his shoulder. “C’mon, Peter, it’s getting late, you still have school tomorrow.”

“Awe, man” Peter huffed before jumping off the barstool. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Barnes!”

Bucky waved to both Peter and May, a small ‘bye’ leaving his lips before he turned back to his drink. Man, time to just be a wallflower and watch as everyone got absolutely buzzed.

–

The next morning came by in a flash, it helped that Bucky turned in early. Well.. Early was a stretch, he went to bed at 2 AM, even when everyone was still preoccupied with the festivities. When, said, man left his room at 8 AM, he found everyone passed the hell out on the couches.

He didn’t wanna wake anyone up, so he just went to the kitchen and looked for something to eat. Something about the modern days was that it was easier to cook something! Not just boiled, though he did miss the bread pudding.

“Shit.” he muttered to himself as he found out, yeah no the guests raided the kitchen.. Or maybe it was all the passed out Avengers. Might as well go on a run and get some groceries. He hated doing errands, but no one was telling him to do it, no pressure.. Might as well buy some stuff.

In a few quick moments, he put a hoodie on and a nice pair of jeans on with his gloves nicely placed on his hands. He didn’t like showing off his hands, let alone his metal arm. Hated scaring people. Bucky made his way down the Tower and left. Taking a deep breath in the early morning air, he walked down to the nearest grocery shop.. Which was 20 minutes away, or 25 on foot. He didn’t mind, he liked walking.

–

Soon enough, he made it to the grocery shop. With it being 8:28 AM, and being a Tuesday, it wasn’t too busy. In fact, there was barely anyone.. Barely anyone.

He made his way through the aisles, and there he saw.. The cute florist from before. Except no apron like before,, they were just wearing a lazy day outfit, they were struggling with grabbing something on the top shelf but god they still looked-

You glanced up and saw Bucky, a flash of confusion on your face before you snapped your fingers and pointed to him. A big smile dancing on your lips as you exclaimed, “James!”

“Hey-” Bucky stopped himself and cringed internally. He may have been non-stop thinking about you and your face, but he was an ass to not have asked your name. “Y-You..”

They’regonnahatemethey’regonnahatemethey’regonnahatem-

“Pff- ha!”

Instead of what Bucky assumed, you shook your head and started giggling at Bucky’s awkwardness. He looked so mean ‘n scary, but here he was acting like a huge dork!

“The name’s [Name],” You went back down from your tippy toes. Man, you were just really cute- DAMNIT! Get a grip, Sargeant. “Hey! You’re like a giant, think you can grab that for me?”

You pointed at the box on the top, which was a box of fruit snacks. Cute. “Yeah, sure.”

Bucky grabbed the fruit snacks, glanced at the cover.. It was Avengers inspired fruit snacks. He raised his eyebrow and looked over at you with a slight hint of curiosity. Embarrassed, you snatched the box from Bucky’s hand and shoved it into your basket.

“They’re good-” You muttered. “The snacks and the heroes, I mean.”

“You like the Avengers?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“The bad guys.” He shrugged, and you laughed.

You kept laughing for a few moments, Bucky was just.. Admiring you. The way the corner of your eyes wrinkled, the way your cheeks flushed just the smallest bit.. Man, why was he acting like this? Barely knew you, yet his mind was reeling. Sure, he flirted back in the 40s.. A lot, but.. I dunno, there’s something different about you.

“James?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. Sure, he was absolutely enamored right now, but his face looked like he was just annoyed. “Wanna just shop with me? I-I’m probably just gonna get junk food if I’m alone, so-”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay!”

With a new pep in your step, you led him down the aisles. Checking over the produce section, he grabbed a few carrots, a package of lettuce. In turn, you grabbed some veggies as well.. It was more out of peer pressure (despite there not being any pressure), at least the plan was working. He inspired half of your purchases that day, and honestly, that’s a good thing. It seemed half his food was real healthy shit..

“Do you live alone?”

“Wha? Oh,” Bucky looked down at his basket before nodding. “I live with.. A lot of people”

“That makes way more sense, didn’t peg you for a-” You glanced into his basket and a small smirk tugged at your lips. “Pop tart, beer, and toast guy.”

Bucky shrugged and scratched the back of his head. He was just buying things from the usual grocery shop list. Pop tarts for Thor, beer for.. Half the Avengers, toast just for everyone, etc etc.

“My roommates are foodies”

“I can tell!” He watched as you hummed and grabbed one last item. “That should be good for me! You done?”

He nodded.

“Great! Where d’you live?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you realized what you said. “I-I’m asking ‘cause maybe after we pay I can walk you home! Or- somethin’.. I dunno, sorry-”

“Oh.” The tall man in front of you shuffled in his spot. “No need. I live a few blocks away, it’d be a hassle.”

“Oh, well, that sucks! I was hoping to talk with you more!”

Bucky walked besides you as you both walked to the self-paying cash registers. Man, your words made his heart start beating faster. How could you be so.. Smooth with this? Maybe you didn’t realize, it could just be something you see as platonic. He didn’t know.

“I can.. Give you my number.” Bucky muttered, he knew that’d be seen as flirty. Or at least hitting on you.. But, he didn’t mind. Maybe he wanted that? NO. No, Steve told him to make connections, this is just to make a new friend.

Your eyes lit up at the offer and you nodded quickly. Quickly finishing up at paying for your groceries and took your phone out. “You can put your number in my phone after you're done paying?”

Bucky nodded again. You watched as he put everything away and.. Okay, admired his arm. Even under the hoodie, you can tell he worked out. James was really handsome, but so mysterious at the same time! Not much of a talker, but you could do all the talking.. You wonder, would he talk in bed- NO WAIT! Get a grip, goddamnit. This was all supposed to be innocent, he’s just a new friend.

As quickly as your grocery shopping came, the two of you walked out, side-by-side.

“It was nice seeing you again, James!” You waved back and walked away, one new number in your phone.

–

By the time Bucky got back to the Tower, everyone was already awake, but hungover as hell. The only ones who weren’t super hungover were Steve, Natasha and Thor.

“Hello, one-armed man!” Thor waved over to Bucky and gestured him over to join, said, Steve, Natasha and him over to the kitchen table.

Bucky gave a short nod and put the grocery bags on the table.

“You better have gotten-” Natasha looked through the bags and let out a huff. Not of annoyance, one of thanks. “Thanks.”

She waved the bag of pistachios in the air before opening it and started eating them up. She loved pistachios.

“Man of one arm, you have done wonderfully!” Thor grabbed one of the three boxes of pop tarts and started eating one. “As thanks, I will make tea!”

Bucky nodded, even though he’d rather have coffee than tea, but he’d rather not correct Thor. He’s one of the only people who weren’t a part of the Civil war, the other was Bruce Banner.

“Thanks for the food, Buck,” Steve opened the bread and spread a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Bucky just grunted in response and took a bite of a piece of bread in which Steve made for him. Just a simple piece of white bread with peanut butter. He took his phone out and checked it for a moment.. You texted him.

Florist : hey, james :3! sorry if this is quick, just wanted to make sure you had my number! if this isnt james this is rlly embarrassing

The corners of Bucky’s mouth quirked up, very quick, very faint. Didn’t last long, but he texted back.

James : It’s me, don’t worry. Hi, [Name], and don’t worry, this isn’t embarrassing.

“Buck?”

Steve’s voice cut him from his.. Trance of you. He hit send on the text before putting his phone away. “What?”

“Who y’texting?” The blonde leaned on the table and eyed him suspiciously. A small smirk on his face as he eyed Bucky.. He knew for a FACT the only people Bucky texted was Sam and him, and on OCCASION Peter.

“Nothing- no one. Don’t worry about it, punk.”

“You sure? You look pretty happy”

A small murmur came from Natasha as she leaned over to Thor. “He looks happy?”

“C’mon, you can’t lie to me, Buck, I’ve known you for years”

“Steve-”

“Is it a dame?”

“Shut it before I hit you, punk” Bucky glared at Steve and bit his bread before huffing. Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands up in defeat.

“Fine, fine.”

With that, he didn’t ask anymore. And Bucky decided; he’ll only text you when he’s alone.

|| i am quite enjoying writing for bucky <333 also, ily domestic avengers

[bunny-1111]

Mattheo Riddle head canons, part 2

has stick n poke tattoos all over himself. He does them for fun and to pass the time until he graduates and can get them done properly

when you two are alone in your dorms. He brushes your wet hair, he pulls your hair, and the brush knocks your head. He doesn't apologise; he thinks he's a helpful boyfriend. When you whine about it being painful, he'd hold your head still and argues, "It hurts because you won't stop moving."

whenever you get into fights, his mouth is his greatest weapon. No insults are off the table, except he can't take what he gives out

if you two argue. He drastically pulls away from you and isolates himself. When he comes back to his senses, he explains, "I'm new at this whole relationship thing, just tryna remember how to communicate and shit."

has such a deep voice. It goes husky when he drinks too much at parties,

skips rock on the black lake when he's bored on weekends,

hates Hogsmeade, thinks the stores are shit and hates the crowds

he has two different laughs, one chuckle. He uses this when he finds something funny or he has to pretend to laugh. The second is a silent laugh, where he holds his stomach in pain of laughter, so amused that nothing comes out, this laugh is genuine, his face scrunched, and his usually straight posture drops

he hates animals, a cat is lurking in the hallway, he hisses at it, a bird lands beside him, he scares it away.

Has a messy dorm and doesn't care enough to keep it clean

always clean-shaven. He doesn't think facial hair suits him, so when he feels even a shadow of stubble, he's in his bathroom, shaving cream in one hand, razor in the other

very eager to get to dinner, he thinks there should be more food servings throughout the day, and often expresses that to Snape

he relentlessly gives Snape a hard time, but they both secretly love it. Snape is the closest thing Matteo has to a brother or father, so when he gets punished, his daddy issues sort of like it....

smart ass.

no like seriously, a smart ass, lippy to all teachers, if sarcasm was a language, Mattheo was fluent.

when you sleep together, he drifts off so quickly he doesn't let go of you all night, even if he's lost feeling in his arm, he doesn't care

not huge on PDA, but behind closed doors he's never more that a metre away, unless someone is hitting on you than he is all up on you, making sure everyone knows not to fuck with him and test his girl

when you blow him air kisses, he 'catches' them and puts them in his pocket, he tells you, he keeps them for a slow day, when he can't see you enough as he'd like too.

doesn't say I love you to many people, so if he does, you know its genuine.

Mattheo you big ol' sweetheart

[justwinginglife]

thinking of a Hoshina/narumi x Vice captain! reader who was raised to be a traditional wife for wealthy clans 🤔 Like she looks and acts like what people would scream wife material and in the field she be an aggresive fighter but still keeping a graceful look on her....i imagine she'll be the type to use aggresive weapons like SMGs just to contrast her character

Disclaimer- I am a Hoshina girlie through and through and idk if I would even know how to write Narumi but I will give it a shot for you anon. Thanks for trusting me with this request, I will do my best.

Three's A Crowd

You always thought you'd marry well, after all, you'd always been told that being a wife was what you were made for. And not just because you'd been raised by a governess in a proper household, no- you made the act of being a wife look effortless. If being a wife was a job, you were the CEO. If being your husband was a prize, the raffle tickets would've sold out.

Your parents would joke to family friends that you glided out of the womb in stilettos, ready to host dinner parties with your best wine and your best smile. And then when you were the youngest female to ever make Vice Captain in such a short amount of time, people just assumed talent was in your DNA at this point. You could completely brutalize the hell out of a kaiju, not even get your hands dirty or break a sweat, and then be back home in time to instruct the household staff which table settings to use for dinner and maybe even recommend a nice dessert pairing for whatever meal the chef had prepared.

Now, coming from a well-established clan, you had always assumed you'd marry one of the Hoshina brothers as your family had deep ties to the Hoshina clan and you'd known them since you were young, but you had also recently caught the attention of the Captain of the First Division and you could never resist a man with power.

As the Vice Captain of the Second Division, you were constantly meeting with the Captains and Vice Captains of other divisions, but for some reason you didn't meet the Captain of the First Division at any of those stiff meetings. In fact, he never showed up so you thought you might never meet him. But fate must've had other plans because one day as you were on your way home from meeting with the Vice Captain of the First Division, a kaiju decided to take a bite out of a nearby building and that's where you met Gen Narumi.

It's like he had known they were going to strike because he was onto them in a matter of minutes, skewering them like a kebab. You were impressed but you didn't want to let him have all the fun, especially since this might be the only time you ever interacted with him again. So you raced him to take down the remaining kaiju in the vicinity, gunning them all down with equal parts aggression and grace. He had been quite impressed by your agility and the elegance with which you slew each creature. So much so that he actually started showing up to his meetings from then on just to get a glimpse of you. And then he got greedier and a glimpse just wasn't enough for him anymore, he wanted to talk to you, get to know you.

Soon, a rivalry had formed between Gen and Soshiro as they both raced after your heart. The two of them were so different, pretty much the only commonality they shared were their feelings for you.

Gen was a quiet lover, he'd shrug people off when they'd ask if he was seeing you, keeping to himself about the details. But then he'd secretly leave a vase of your favorite flowers for you to find the next morning and if you confronted him about it he'd simply say your apartment looked so sad that even a bunch of weeds he'd scrounged from some random field was an improvement to the place. The flowers were not in fact wildflowers as he claimed, you could tell he'd gone to great lengths to buy the most expensive bouquet he could find from the hothouse but he'd never acknowledge it.

Soshiro was the exact opposite- he was loud about his love. He'd sling his arm around you, and brag to anyone who'd hear him about what a catch you were. He'd remind you everyday how much he adored you. And though it bothered him that Gen was attempting to court you too, he always felt he had the upper hand, having never seen Gen make any grand gestures for you or declare his love for you as openly as he did.

You were used to many men vying for your attention but you never thought that two of the most powerful fighters in the JAKDF would be among your long list of suitors. In fact, the two of them paid such frequent visits to the Second Division that you didn't think you'd even have time to look at any other men. Not that they'd let you look anyway, they'd pretty much assumed that one of them would be the one to marry you.

They weren't wrong. You did intend to choose from one of them as you'd grown quite fond of your little daily routines with each of them. Soshiro was always the first person to text you something sweet in the morning, he wanted you to get a taste of what it would be like to wake up next to him. Gen was always going out of his way for you, picking up dinner from your favorite restaurant an hour away or buying you a pair of earrings you mentioned in passing months ago, once he'd saved up enough for them (you had expensive taste).

It was the first time you felt like more than just some prize, you were actually wanted and desired as a human being. You felt like maybe even if you didn't say the right things or laugh at the right time, even if you fell short of the perfection you'd worked so hard to achieve your whole life, they'd accept you as you were.

It was both a blessing and a curse as you knew you'd have to pick eventually. As different as Gen and Soshiro were, they both did not share well and this little arrangement you had, seeing both of them, would not hold up for long.

But you'd hold out for as long as you possibly could. For as long as they'd let you.

After all, true love is hard to find and you'd stumbled on double the jackpot.

[toxycodone]

oviposition anon teehee i wanted to elaborate more last night but i was tired as fuck and zooted off the penjamin. but like getting separated from the rest of the party and encountering the slime creacher alone with Laios.... you think he'd tell you what the thing is? im sure he knows alllll about it, like he has a private little list of all the most fuckable monsters and of course the damn oviposition slime is on there. do u think he just dives right in head first, or does he try to create some kind of plausibly deniable situation in battle? youre terrified cause you cant make heads or tails of this creature in order to kill it and arent strong with fire magic but.... why does he look like he's having fun? and is that his clothes getting dissolved in there....? and why is he so hot all helpless suspended in the pink gel (ive just now decided the slime is pink), shuddering with pleasure as each near transparent egg enters his body? if you were to get caught by it without knowing what it is i dont think he'd leave you in there, but when he pulls you out of the goop his raging hard on is impossible to ignore and just BEGS questioning.... maybe you need to go seek out another one? or maybe i need to get writing

LISTEN TO ME. ANON YOU ARE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ONTO SOMETHING. (And I would 100% be down to read something full about this bc oh my god???) and pink slime is the superior color you’re based.

contents: monster fucking, mutual masturbation? if you can call it that?

When you two encounter the slime, Laios is oddly…excited? I mean, he’s always excited to see monsters, but this. Is different. He doesn’t brandish his weapon or look stiff at all when you two encounter it, so you put away yours and you’re like…what the fuck is the deal man??

Laios looks between you and the slime. After a few moments, he casually walks to you.

“Well…um…this slime. They’re usually aggressive, but, you can tell by the color that it’s breeding season. And they’re unusually docile when this occurs…”

So you’re like? Okay. Awesome. No fight required. Let’s get out of here.

But Laios taps his fingers. He looks away a little as he plays with his thumbs.

“You see…it’s docile. But it doesn’t mean we can just leave. Unless we want to find another route. But it’s going to keep going until it eventually finds an adventurer…to use as a host….”

And you’re kinda like um? So do you wanna kill it? Or

And Laios is like “I HAVE AN IDEA. So…the secretions of this slime numb pain and promote healing. If we help this slime out…we can get some of those. It may be useful when Marcille’s out of mana….” Laios then puts his hands on your shoulders and looks at you seriously. “I PROPOSE…we let this slime use us as hosts. And in return, we collect its secretions and save any other unaware adventurer an encounter with it!”

And you’re floored. But once he explains to you, it’s just eggs (they lay them in adventurers to spread their kind to other floors). And it’ll feel *good*. You put your hands on your hips.

“Let me guess. You’ve been waiting for us to encounter this monster, huh….?”

*Cue that iconic Laios blushing panel.*

Anyways, you accept. Laios gives you the rundown from his guide and notes from his journal. First, you have to remove your clothing. The slime will get them soaked and likely tear them to shreds anyways, and if you don’t have a spare you’re screwed. Then, the slime’s secretions will coax you into relaxation. You’ll feel yourself go limp, but it’s not a bad thing. It’ll just make it easier for this whole process—so don’t fight it. Lastly…just enjoy? The slime does all the work and the eggs aren’t dangerous. You’ll pass them in a few days when the incubation period has succeeded (Laios wants to keep one or two to eat, but he doesn’t explicitly say that now).

And so you agree. It seems…oddly fun. Neither of you get time to really do anything sexual while dungeon crawling. And this seems like a good release.

And so you let it happen and it’s fucking MIND BLOWING. The slime’s secretions are absorbed through your skin as it surrounds you, making you feel some weird mix between drunk and high. Your body is limp, but everything you feel is extremely heightened.

The slime teases you all over and gently prods at your holes before slowly opening you up. (if you have a cervix) it’s numbing properties keep it from hurting as it spreads you open and pumps its eggs into your womb/hole. It’s honestly one of the best experiences you’ve had.

It’s like. Some sort of ethereal mutual masturbation experience with Laios, because when you look at him his skin is almost as pink as the slime. His brows are furrowed, eyes shut tight as he moans wantonly, not a care in the world. You can tell when an egg is laid in him bc his face contorts, but then his licks his lips and lets out a shaky moan. There’s already streaks of white in the slime and you’re not sure if it’s just a ton of precum or if he’s already came from the slime.

But you don’t have a lot of time to think about that before you’re shuddering from your own orgasm. It seems the slime coaxes as many as it can from you and Laios—as the more you relax and enjoy the experience the easier it is to continue pumping eggs into your system.

And afterwards, the slime resumes its usual light blue color and withdraws from you two. If you weren’t mistaken…you’d think it was blushing….theres two pink patches left on its “cheeks” as it slithers away, streaks of cum and slick still present in its body.

And. Of course. In typical Laios fashion, while you two are coming back to your senses, covered in slick and slime and who knows what else. All he can do is look at you with that same dopey lovestruck expression and mumble about how much he loves you.

[come-see-our-show]

I saw an early screening of the Mean Girls movie last night, so here is a summary of my thoughts, comparing the movie musical to the Broadway musical, which I was lucky enough to see live in 2018!

Changed that I liked:

The usage of social media in the Broadway show made it very clear that it was written by adults who didn’t know much about Gen-Z. It was probably one of the worst parts of the show in my opinion. But Tina Fey must have done her research since 2018, because the way the movie uses TikTok, memes, vlogging, and FaceTime to push the story forward worked VERY well. I think there were some influencer cameos, but it didn’t feel they were included to show how “young and hip” they were, It actually added authenticity.

The diversity within the cast and changing last names to reflect the characters’ backgrounds (Karen Smith ➡️ Karen Shetty, Janis Sarkisian ➡️ Janis 'Imi'ike)

Cutting down “Meet the Plastics.” It’s a very exposition-heavy song and doesn’t need to be super long, even though the full version is quite catchy and fun.

All of the new jokes landed so well, probably because Tina Fey’s writing style is better suited for the screen as opposed to the stage.

This is more of a comparison of the musical vs. the original film, but a big change was The Plastics’ weaponized wokeness (which I talk about here).

The production design for most of the songs was very different. The stage musical has a lot of rock songs, which were changed to a pop sound for the movie. I personally prefer rock musicals, but it was a good way to give the movie a separate identity from its predecessor so it doesn’t risk becoming a carbon copy. It worked on some songs (“Someone Gets Hurt” and “World Burn”) but not on others (“A Cautionary Tale” and “Revenge Party”).

Cutting the joke about Regina’s ass being big. It was a very low-brow joke, which I’m not a fan of, and was just really immature. Thank God that was changed to her falling, which still shows her being embarrassed without her body being the joke.

Explicitly making Janis a lesbian! (It’s only implied in the stage show with “It’s not even true… I only have one butt”) And she goes to prom with a girl while Damien dances with a boy! ALSO THERE’S REJANIS LORE AND IT’S SO HEARTBREAKING I LOVE IT

megan thee stallion just… being there

Miss Norbury and Principal Duvall being a couple and owning a dog together!!!

As a low mezzo, I appreciated whoever decided to lower the key for “I’d Rather Be Me.” I felt very represented 🩷

Having Cady be raised in a single-parent household so it focuses in more on her relationship with her mom. Jenna Fischer was so motherly and sincere and brought a warmth to the movie. Their scene together near the end made me emotional (you’re never too old to ask your parent to stay with you until you fall asleep) (also this is my request to make jenna fischer my mom)

Changes that I didn’t like:

Cutting BOTH of Damian’s solos??? (SHE’S LEAVING!!!!!!!! JUST LIKE MY DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Cutting “More Is Better.” It wasn’t necessarily a memorable song, but it did give both Cady and Aaron more depth, both as separate characters and within their relationship.

While cutting some of the songs helped with pacing, cutting HALF of the score made me forget that it was a musical sometimes, which sucks because I really like musicals!!!

Other stuff:

The movie was marketed horribly. One of my friends didn’t even know it was gonna be a musical because there were no songs in the trailers 💀 (Also, this isn’t just a Mean Girls problem. The Color Purple also didn’t have any songs in the trailer. I didn’t even know Wonka was a musical until I saw it in theaters, so that was a bit of a shock.) If you’re producing a musical movie, maybe your focus groups should be musical fans, because that’s still a HUGE market.

Auliʻi Cravalho’s voice is STUNNING! She and Jaquel Spivey had great chemistry and their friendship felt so genuine!

The opening and ending transitions from the garage were everything to me

The EDITING

Angourie Rice is a great actor and fit Cady perfectly… except for her singing. Out of the entire cast she was easily the weakest in terms of vocals and it was pretty disappointing since she’s the LEAD. I could barely hear her in the new song “What Ifs” because of how quiet and breathy she was. I think it’s a better written song compared to “Roar” though.

Jon Hamm cameo!

Ashley Park cameo!

I cannot stress enough how funny this movie was. I was probably laughing louder than everyone else in the theatre.

I lost my shit during “Meet the Plastics” when Regina unzipped her jacket and Cady was staring at her boobs. She’s just like me fr 🏳️‍🌈

I know that Regina is a horrible person but I couldn’t find it in me to dislike her in the slightest. She just served too much cunt 😩

Christopher Briney is a good actor, but I don't think he was the right choice for Aaron Samuels. I would hate to ridicule anyone for their looks, but it still plays an important part in casting. Aaron is supposed to be a somewhat naive, wholesome, hot jock (and Regina has high standards, so he better be a fucking model). Briney is definitely a cutie, but gives off “smoldering badboy with a secret sensitive side” energy, which isn’t what Aaron should be.

The fantasy sequences (Stupid With Love, Revenge Party, October 3rd). I LOVE when movie musicals USE the medium to tell stories in a way that they can’t on a stage!!!

THE CHOREO!!! Everyone freezing then shaking in “Someone Get Hurt” AHHHH that entire number was HYPNOTIZING!!!!!!!!!!! My friend told me the choreographer’s name is Kyle Hanagami, so shout out to him. (also reneé rapp was so fucking hot while singing that oh my lord)

I will be calling my pimples “face breasts” from now on (avantika ilysm)

DAMIAN’S FRENCH COVER OF THE ICARLY THEME SONG 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

why was there a 0.5 camera shot of cady during revenge party 💀

“I’d Rather Be Me” was so much fun and I felt so fucking empowered. And the transition from the song to the bus was just *chef’s kiss*

“donut worry i am still your freend” 🥺

Lindsay Lohan cameo!!!!!!!!!

NOT ENOUGH RENEÉ RAPP 😭😭

Overall, the movie was not perfect, but the Broadway show already had plenty of flaws, so it’s understandably how that would affect the adaptation. I still a LOT of fun and would definitely see it again. Go stream Snow Angel by Reneé Rapp. i love women 🥰🥰🥰

[mirai-e-jump]

TV Station, 3/1/2025 Issue ft. No.1 Sentai Gozyuger Cast Members (translation below)

Publication: February 26, 2025

Fuyuno Mio x Suzuki Hideharu x Kanda Masakazu Matsumoto Jin x Imamori Maya

Fuyuno: While Hoeru has a foul mouth and gives off the impression of being unapproachable, he's occasionally kind, and has a cute side that makes him a character who's prone to being teased.

Suzuki: Mio's normally like Hoeru, don't you think?

Kanda: He's quiet and cool. His way of speaking is abit blunt, which seems to also be similar.

Suzuki: He also has a pure heart, so his kindness can come out at any given moment.

Kanda: He and Hide are the same age, and they're always flirting with each other. Occasionally, the distance between him and us feels off (laughs). However, that changes drastically when it comes to his performance.

Fuyuno: I'm trying to be positively influenced by the atmosphere of the scene, and to react accordingly to everyone's performance.

Suzuki: Rikuo's a former super idol with an overconfident side. He's also putting in the work to justify that, and has a good side to him, that being his kindness. I try to be conscious of my idol like behavior, facial expressions, and speaking patterns.

Kanda: From his vibes to the way he speaks, everything about him is soft and gentle.

Matsumoto: It made me think that such good looking nice guys do exist. He's committed to listening to what others have to say. He's overflowing with kindness.

Kanda: It's amazing that we've gotten this far without him getting cocky over those visuals of his!

Suzuki: Thank you!

Kanda: Ryugi's an out of touch freak, and the only one who's a "Tega Sword follower." He's the oldest of the five, and although he's strong willed, he also has a mischievous side. I hope that I can find just the right balance in expressing that gap without overdoing his character.

Matsumoto: Kanda-san's like a leader. He invites us all to go out for meals together. I feel like we're more of a team now, and I'm really grateful that he creates such opportunities like that for us.

Imamori: He usually pulls us along and is reliable, but……he's abit of an airhead, isn't he?

Kanda: How did you know? I've always kept that hidden (laughs).

Imamori: It felt like you were doing your best to hide it.

Matsumoto: Kinjiro's a 17 year old high schooler. At his core, he's a serious person, but his goal is to become a "party person." It's interesting to see how his values don't match up with those around him. Since there's no character among the five of us who restlessly moves around, I thought I'd take charge of that position.

Imamori: He's surprisingly cool for someone with a cute face.

Fuyuno: I was gonna say the same thing (laughs). The composure he has makes it hard to believe that he's 19 years old, and he's also very good at giving compliments.

Matsumoto: I think I'm just conscious of trying to put my thoughts into words.

Imamori: Sumino-chan is cool, but she's a "high class detective" who'll use her cunningness as a weapon when she needs to. To create a gap between the two, I took it upon myself to play the role more characteristically. I'll watch anime and idols in order to study their cunningness.

Fuyuno: Maya-chan appears more mature on screen. She's always full of energy and makes the atmosphere around her pleasant.

Suzuki: The way she switches from her normal self is amazing.

Imamori: I'm just going along with the fun vibes everyone else helps create.

Fuyuno: Although the five members have widely different personalities, you'll be able to see each and every one of their human dramas. Enjoy this festive program, which also features tons of previous Sentai Reds! _

Sleeping Conditions on the Location Bus

Suzuki: Everyone has a particular way of sleeping, don't they? Masa-kun will lean forward with his neck bent at a 90 degree angle, while Mio doesn't sleep.

Fuyuno: It's true that I don't sleep.

Suzuki: Maya-chan tends to lean against the window, while Jin's head pokes out into the aisle (laughs).

Matsumoto: Something like that happens.

Imamori: Hide-kun's mouth hangs open.

Suzuki: Don't say that. I end up showing off a stupid face, huh?

Fuyuno: Everyone's probably looking at you.

Imamori: Kanda-san brings his own pillow, right?

Kanda: I get motion sickness easily, so if I look around for even a moment, I start feeling nauseous. That's why I use a pillow to keep my neck in place.

Suzuki: I'm the same way, so I get that!

[darylbae]

i have been dying to read a fic where daryl has not yet confessed his feelings for the reader, and this is based around the group just arriving in alexandria and one of the people there start flirting with the reader, so daryl gets jealous and confesses?

if only you knew — daryl dixon🩰

in which a flirty encounter pushes daryl to confess some long-time feelings for you

note: i am loving the requests im getting, keep them coming!! <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If there was anyone you'd been close to since the end of the world, it was Daryl. As strange as that may seem, considering just how opposite you were, and how rude he was at first. You'd taken a liking to him, and had realized his rudeness was only a wall.

Daryl was definitely one to show he cares instead of saying it, but with you it was rather different. When he'd realized his feelings for you, he'd stopped talking to you entirely. He'd give you a nod here and there, help you if you needed help, side with you if he thought you were right. But found himself avoiding you, to conceal his feelings. It hurt you, but you kept it to yourself. Losing Daryl, who you'd considered a close friend, felt like a kick in the teeth. But you got on with it. When the prison fell, you were separated, and even as you'd all reunited, old Daryl would've squeezed you into him and patted your head, something he did because of your height difference. But you got nothing more than a nod and a wave. When you were all shivering in the barn, old Daryl would've given you his jacket and sat beside you. But he seemed more content sat in the corner fiddling with his fingers.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes were on you the entire night. He didn't sleep, to protect the group, but his gaze was fixated upon you. He watched your frame as you slept, using your arms as a pillow, your hair falling into your face. If only you knew.

Shortly after, you had found Alexandria. Well, this Aaron guy had led you here. Beautiful suburban homes lines up next to each other, the community looked like it hadn't been left. Like the state of the world hadn't applied here. The supposed leader, Deanna, had asked you all to put your weapons into a trolley, to be taken to the weapons cache. People had unwillingly given up their weapons, even Daryl and his beloved crossbow. You looked around at the Alexandrian's, who all looked happy, blissful, ignorant to what was outside these walls. You envied them. You'd caught the eye of a rather tall man, brown hair similar to that of syrup, a sweet smile as your eyes met his. When the group had broken off, he'd approached you. "Hi, I'm Spencer." He greeted you, walking beside you slowly as your group had trailed off to the homes you were allowed to stay in. "Hey, Y/N." You introduced yourself, shaking the hand he'd extended out to you. "My mom is excited to have you all here, all she wants is our community to grow stronger." He explained. "You're all tough son's of bitches." You laughed, accepting the compliment. "Well, thank you."

Daryl was only a few steps ahead of you, and he wanted an arrow through his head. He could hear this Spencer guy talking to you, his tone dripping with lust. Daryl couldn't really blame the guy, you were hot. And more than that, you were sweet, nice, caring. He wanted that for himself, he didn't want to watch someone else get it. "If you're okay with it, tomorrow, I'd like to show you around. In fact, my mom is having a housewarming party that she's going to invite you all to. I could accompany you to that." Spencer suggested, and you felt a little suffocated. You weren't used to people being all over you like this, even before the world fell apart. "Almost sounds like the old world." You joked. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You were quick to get inside, dumping your bag along with everyone else's in the living room. You were all sharing a home tonight, which would be fun, to say the least. The day had ended, the night sky coming out and you had been sat by one of the windows. Watching the sunset, watching your group in the reflection, watching the moody archer glance your way every so often. You didn't think you were going to sleep tonight.

Daryl was too wound up to sleep right now, instead he was sat in his makeshift bed, jealously bubbling up inside him. How could you let Spencer talk to you like that? He was so obviously flirting. Who wouldn't? Daryl would kill for a chance. So he stared straight ahead, sulking about this Spencer guy. You had looked over at Daryl, the only other person awake, and waited for him to look back at you. And when he did, the butterflies all came back. He hadn't done as much as nod your way in a long time. He'd stopped being so friendly, and it killed you everyday thinking about it.

"Dar," you whispered, and your voice trickled into his eat like a pot of sweet honey, "can we talk?" "What about?" You gestured to the porch, standing up and trailing over to the front door to let yourself out. Daryl was shortly behind you, his heart beating ten to a dozen at the mere thought of being alone with you. It hadn't been just the two of you for a long time. "What's th'matter?" He asked, folding his arms and leaning against on of the porch pillars. "Why don't you talk to me anymore?" You asked, your heart sinking at the confrontation. "I feel like on the farm, you just... stopped being my friend." Daryl felt moronic. It was never about not being your friend. If only you knew. Daryl fought with himself in his own brain, debating on whether tonight was the night. It had been eating away at him, every time he saw you, and today with Spencer, it had pushed him over the limit. Meanwhile, you took the long pause as Daryl being dumbfounded. It took all of you to not walk inside and leave him out here to freeze and think about it. "S'a long story," Daryl mumbled. "Good thing I have time." You countered, sitting down on one of the porch steps and hugging your legs. Daryl had joined you, his shoulder touching yours and he almost went insane at the connection of your skin with his. He sighed deeply, and you were growing impatient. You just wanted an answer. "I can't be around ya." He admitted, and you could feel your heart cracking in your chest. "What? Why?" You were on the verge of tears now, concealing your glossy eyes with your hair. "I can't be around ya because I love ya." His voice was a bit louder, which to most was a normal speaking volume. "Every time I look at ya, I jus' want to tell ya but I couldn't. I care about ya too much to let it ruin what we had." "But it did!" You exclaimed. "It did ruin it, Daryl. You stopped talking to me, you stopping being around me. Like my existence was not good enough for you." Daryl grabbed your hands, and you instinctively turned to face him. "You're more than good enough. You're too good f'me. I love ya enough to know you need better." "What's better, Daryl? Who's better?" You countered, raking your fingers through your hair. He came up short, there was no answer. "Why are you always so bad about yourself? As if you don't care deeply about your people, as if you don't go above and beyond for us all." You explained. "Daryl, I love you. I have for a while." "I couldn't take the thought of you and Spencer today, or you and anyone else. It's selfish, but I want ya." Daryl confessed, and your cheeks were wet with tears. You were filled with anxiety every day about what you'd done to push Daryl away. It felt like relief to know the truth. "I don't want Spencer, or anyone," you spoke, squeezing his big hand with both of yours, "I've only wanted you Daryl. Since the start." "Y'sure?" "As sure as I've ever been."

[lanterns-and-daydreams]

SOME TIG CHB HEADCANONS!!

-Xander is a Hephaestus kid.

-Grayson and Avery are Athena kids.

-Jameson and Rohan are Hermes kids.

-They hate that they're related and keep hiding each other's things and then fighting about it.

-Libby is Hecate's daughter.

-she sometimes uses potions in her baked goods.

-Thea is Aphrodite and Rebecca is from the Demeter cabin.

-Gigi and Savannah are Apollo's kids.

-Nash is Ares. Not all Ares kids are bad give em a break.

-Max is Apollo's kid.

-Jameson LOVES the climbing wall.

-Grayson loves the lake.

-He's friends with Percy and sometimes they both just sit down near the lake in silence and in comfort of each other's presence.

-Annabeth and Avery hang out and give each other riddles to solve.

-Xander is best friends with Leo and you'd think they're attached at the hip with how much mischief they get up to together and how they're always sitting around building things.

-TIRAMISU RIDING FESTUS'S HEAD WEARING A TINY PUPPY PAWTHORNE SIZED PARTY HAT!!!

-Xander knows about Bunker 9.

-Him and Leo call it their 'Super Secret Hawthorne-Valdez Hangout Forge"

-Drew and Thea do each other's makeup and help each other dress up.

-Wherever you find the Stolls, you will find Max.

-They're always giggling with each other, and when you look over at them, they will pretend they were doing nothing.

-Avery and Max love having sleepovers in each other's cabins.

-Max is amazing at Archery and playing the piano.

-Gigi, however, sucks at Archery, while Savannah is great at it.

-Clarisse looks up to Nash and actually acknowledges him as her older brother.

-They often train together.

-Everytime Libby learns a new spell, she always runs over to either Avery it Nash to show them.

-She has the greatest witch cackle in all of camp.

-Grayson’s weapon is a longsword.

-Max uses a bow.

-Savannah uses a gun, despite how limited it is.

-Jameson uses a javelin.

-Nash just fights with his bare hands (you go bro. Heizou would love you).

-He has a thing where he whispers a very low "yeehaw" under his breath before he beats the shit out of you.

-Avery uses a sword

-Thea has a dagger. It's decorated with roses and coated in poison.

-Rebecca uses her ability.

-Gigi has an axe.

-Rohan has an electric spear.

-Xander uses his machinery and things he's built.

-Xander and Leo often joke about their height difference.

-Rohan has beef with the Aphrodite kids.

-He was also constantly throwing jabs at Apollo as Lester.

-Lester wrote a poem about him where he's a slimy slug.

-Nobody knows why Rohan is like that but everyone knows he's a hater who only likes Savannah.

-The one time Jameson had to go to the Oracle for a prophecy in the attic (before Rachel became one), he was comically under prepared and when the Oracle started speaking, he screamed like a little girl and threw a shoe at it.

-He hates the attic now, even though the Oracle isn't there anymore he never even walks by the staircase.

-Grayson plays games (pinocle, cards, etc.) with Mr. D.

-He's very salty about being forced to wear a bright orange t-shirt.

-He accepted his fate and decided to wear a full sleeved baggy one with the sleeves rolled up.

-Jameson makes fun of him.

-Everytime Grayson sees Nico he asks him if he's eaten, he doesn't even know when he basically adopted this emo kid, he just remembers Nico being around when Gigi hung out with Will.

-Will is a sucker for Libby's cookies.

-He gives her stickers in exchange for cookies. Stickers are basically their currency now.

-Jameson thinks Hazel is very cool. Like damn, you can control rocks and gems? That's awesome!

-Nash is very protective of Frank. Like, no, the rest of the cabin can't be mean to him for being soft. no.

-Rebecca and Piper get along so well.

-The brothers get VERY competitive during Capture the Flag, and it's a show to watch when they're on opposite teams.

-Lyra is a Hunter of Artemis. (I'm not so sure about her I haven't read tgg yet. IM SORRY 👹 👹)

-Slate is Nemesis's kid. He's emo.

[vespaer77]

I have a hot take.

And I understand that a lot of it comes down to opinion and interpretation. The "official canon" for the game is your own damned canon, and I frankly love that for all of us. It's beautiful and freeing and sets us up to celebrate a variety of different worlds and that's pretty rad.

But (of course there's a "but") I'm coming to understand that…

…my canon interpretation of this line is very different from a large majority of this fandom.

And I guess it's not really a hot take. No one's interpretation is wrong, and I would never want someone to think that. No one should ever have their fun taken out of the game, it's a game. I think mostly I'm just looking for folks who read this the same way I do. Because to me?

Solas' greatest fear is not to literally die all alone.

Like, all by himself.

Not only do I believe that that's a large oversimplification of the meaning behind that statement, but I'd also argue that dying all by himself is precisely what Solas intends to do. He has had every opportunity to avoid it, especially in a Solavellan run, yet he's made zero moves to do so whatsoever.

At the end of Inquisition, he was still a member of the single most powerful and influential religious and paramilitary organization across the entire southern half of their continent. Aside from defeating a sea of demons and darkspawn horrors, and closing a breach in the sky between the Fade and the material world, they've also singlehandedly redesigned the flow of commerce between two nations, they've seated a ruler on the throne in Orlais, and chosen the next Divine to serve on the Sunburst Throne in the Chantry. They're responsible for shaping the future for the whole of southern Thedas, and the leader of that organization is potentially very sympathetic to Solas' beliefs and perspectives. There was much they could have accomplished together, and yet…

He left. Vanished into thin air, even, for two years. With no word.

And when we finally got the chance to confront him, and wrestle a larger kernel of truth out of the man, he told us that he walks the din'an shiral. A journey of death. And he made it unequivocally clear that he intends to walk it alone.

By himself.

There are a lot of ways to interpret what the din'an shiral even is, but the solemnity and weight he used when he referred to it carried a sense of finality. He intends to bring about the death of the world, that much we know is true, whether he sees it that way or not. But could his own life be the cost?

His ritual artifact is a blade, believed to have been fashioned from his red lyrium idol after having been recovered and cleansed. But it could've remained an idol, or it could've been made into an orb. It could've been a staff or a crown, or a necklace with the jawbone of some other critter. But it's a blade. Is it simply because rending the veil involves a certain act of piercing or tearing? Or is it still a weapon? An implement of violence or self-defense? Or even… of self-harm?

Regardless of the interpretation, there's nothing about Solas' future that suggests to me that he's safe. Or accompanied by anyone who intends to keep him safe. And there's nothing about Solas that suggests to me that he isn't acutely aware of all of this.

I don't think Solas has any fear whatsoever of literally dying all alone, at least according to my personal canon. To me, I think Solas views his death as his duty and he will not bring anyone down with him.

I believe that "dying alone" means something much bigger and deeper and more meaningful to Solas than it does to us, the player. And he goes to great lengths to identify and define what this fear means to him through a series of conversations he has with Varric during party banter.

There's quite a bit of self-discovery Solas conducts through this dialogue. It starts when tells Varric that he read Hard in Hightown. He then asks him if there are other trickster figures in dwarven literature, presumably because stories of Fen'Harel stated he walked as kin amongst both the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones and there could could be some tie or some clue about that here, whatever that means. He goes on from there to begin asking pointed questions about Orzammar and what he perceives to be a lack of dwarven ambition. He makes remarks about how they could have a larger hand in shaping global affairs through their control of the lyrium trade and he seems genuinely confused why Orzammar would never consider reuniting with Kal-Sharok.

But he really circles down into the heart of the matter when he asks Varric if he ever misses a life beneath the stone. Varric responds by asking how he could miss something he'd never had, having been born a surface dwarf. And he tells Solas that even if the stone called to him in the manner he's describing, he's very happy with who he is and the life that he has, and he has no wish to change anything.

And from there, we watch Solas grapple with his answer. To him, Varric is someone who is just as sundered from his own identity, and he cannot fathom finding satisfaction in a life like that - a mundane life without magic or the song of the stone. He cannot rationalize it against his guilt and his regrets and his pride, and cannot let it go. So he then spins up an anecdote of a man he saw in the Fade.

He saw a man, alone on an island. His tribe had fallen to beasts and disease, and his wife had died in childbirth.

He was the only one left.

He could have left to find a new land or a new people. But instead he stayed. He spent his days catching fish in a little boat and he spent his nights watching the stars and drinking fermented fruit juice. (That's wine, Solas. That's called wine. You can just call it wine.)

To Solas, this man has surrendered to his defeat. And he gives us our first glimpse into what his fear might actually mean, right here.

"Knowing it will all end with you."

From there, Varric even asks him, "What's with you and all the fallen empire stuff, anyway?" And they go on to discuss what it means to give up and what it means to fight back, what costs are truly associated with each, and how those meanings can vary so widely between individuals whose lives have been so different. The analogy we didn't see at the time however, that we can now examine through hindsight, is that the man on the island wasn't just a representation of the old dwarven empire, but also of the Elvhen.

The man on the island was supposed to be representative of Solas himself.

(I also think it's cool that Varric mentions Orzammmar being too proud to ask for help.)

We are supposed to hear the anguish in his voice when he asks Varric whether he has any concept of what his capitulation to live as a surface dwarf has cost him.

Because Solas knows. For whatever reason (that we're about to discover in Veilguard), the remaining Evanuris were so horrific after the death of Mythal that the only solution he could devise that had any hope of protecting the world was to create the Veil and drive a wedge between the dreaming and waking worlds. To create a divide between magic and reality. To silence the song from the stone. To create a barrier that the blighted gods could never cross.

But one that also trapped the spirits.

And afterward, while he slept a dreaming sleep for centuries, the toll of creating the Veil having been so great, he watched as his people also began to quicken and die. He watched as their spirits also crossed the Veil to be trapped behind it forever. Everyone he ever knew and loved. All the chains of slaves he broke were for nothing. They simply traded one cage for another. Because of him.

And while Abelas and his company still guard the Well of Sorrows, they are bound to Mythal. (Also, I'm pretty sure you can make a choice to kill them? I never have, but I think you can?) They are still creatures that are beholden to her, and thus they are expendable. Mythal was even willing to sacrifice Flemeth to gift her power to Solas, to cure his weakened state after waking from uthenera, and hopefully prevent the risk of future mistakes being made. Like Corypheus.

Even Solas is expendable in the line of his duty, if it means he will succeed. He would gladly sacrifice himself to rectify his greatest mistake, and restore his people to themselves. Because they've been sundered for so long, they've forgotten who they are. And they are not his people anymore. He will make them remember.

He will restore their connection to the Fade, he will reveal lost paths to ancient libraries, and he will reawaken their relationships with their spirits - archivists, and spirits of purpose and wisdom and valor and faith and all of their ancestors that lived before them. He will make them what they were, as they were when he knew them. Because without that, they are incomplete. The spirits are incomplete. He is incomplete.

Our job in Veilguard will be to either help him find a better way to accomplish his goal, or help him find a way to find satisfaction and completion in this world. (Or, you know, kill him, but not in my canon, thanks.) Either way, we have to get him to accept help.

Because the burden that he carries within himself is the sole memory of a vast nation, and it is heavy. Far too heavy to bear alone. He is the last living key, a fragile remnant, a final, solitary link through dreams to the history, the knowledge, and the entire cultural identity of the Elvhen people. (The People people? Is that redundant?)

And without him, all of that is lost.

Forever.

To him, he is the last of the Elvhen.

So, my interpretation of Solas' greatest fear is not that he is afraid to die all by himself. It is something I feel is truly much more heartbreaking.

It is that he is afraid to die the last of his kind.

He is afraid to die alone.

[pacifymebby]

Get Your Hands off My Girl, Man

Protective Cal intervenes when two new guys start harassing you one night at the bar.

Warnings: unwanted sexual advances which start when you are asleep. This is 99% an incredibly self indulgent theraputic little piece of writing for me.

If you don't want to read the description of events prior to the comfort bit, I'm going to put the particularly triggering bit between two dividers so you can skip.

You hadn't really meant to fall asleep by yourself that night. In fact you'd promised Cal you'd wait up for him to take you home on the back of his bike, and that if you got really tired you'd come and find him before you fell asleep just anywhere like you used to. You had a reputation for falling asleep before the end of the night and Cal was more than used to your droopy eyed smile as the sun went down, finding you'd fallen asleep across three chairs lined up, tucked underneath his Vandals jacket.

It didn't used to be so much of an issue, back when the bar was packed out with familiar faces and friends, guys who looked intimidating but were good at heart. Well meaning guys who just wanted to unwind and have a bit of fun. Guys like Cal and Johnny who just really fucking loved motor bikes.

Cal was a pretty laidback guy and he didn't mind seeing his girl pick a snug little spot in the corner of the room to curl up and get her beauty sleep. You were never too far from him and he could relax knowing you were safe, that Johnny wouldn't let anyone bother you, that all the guys knew and respected you and Cal too much to interrupt your dreaming.

Lately however things had been a little different around Johnny's place. The picnics and the house parties had become rowdier. Busier. Guys from different towns riding in to join the 'fun'. And these guys were different. Younger, or back from Vietnam and fucked in the head. Guys bringing all sorts of drugs and weapons around. They were more violent, didn't seem to have much respect for anyone else at all. And the way some of them looked at the women. Cal had mentioned it to you a few times before because it always ground his gears seeing the way those new guys looked at the women. Looked at you.

"Like they ain't even people man, it's fucked up, looking at the chicks like they're somethin t'eat man, I don't like it..." You'd heard him tell Johnny on more than one occasion.

And Cal wasn't the only one who was bothered by the new guys and the thinly veiled threat they posed to the old guys and their girls. Benny was wary too, Johnny always seemed to have a look of trouble in his eyes when he saw the younger guys pull up outside the bar and fill in.

Some of the guys wanted to do something about it, there'd been grumblings at meetings, murmurs of laying down some new rules, enforcing some old ones. Teaching these new guys a lesson or two about how things worked in the Vandals. The things that were okay and the things which were, obviously, fucking, not.

But Johnny seemed worried about conflict. Seemed wary of the new guys. Less eager to see any of them challenge him. He wouldn't say it out loud but he was worried about starting a fight he couldn't win. So he was being careful. Trying to keep things friendly. Only stepping in when it became absolutely necessary.

Well, tonight it would be.

You hadn't meant to fall asleep there at the back of the room. You'd been fighting sleep away for hours by the time you'd settled on the sofa by the juke box. You'd slipped your shoes off and pulled your knees up to your chest, rested your head against the back of the sofa and searched the room with your tired eyes for Cal once more. He'd headed outside for a smoke a little while before, him and Benny and Johnny, all outside shooting the breeze. God knows how long they'd be out there for and you certainly didn't fancy braving the cold night air for a drag on a joint that would make you even sleepier than you were already feeling. You'd already been out for a smoke, already drank your beers. You were all worn out now and all you could do was settle down and try to stay away until Cal came back inside.

Once he saw you curled up like that, your eyelids so heavy and dozy looking he'd know you needed to go home and insist upon giving you a ride back to his so that he could tuck you into bed himself.

You only closed your eyes for a moment. Just to relieve the tired sting of them. Only closed your eyes for a moment but that had been a moment too long and you'd succumbed to sleep before the jukebox beside you had finished her song.

When you awoke you found yourself trapped at the center of a nightmare. You could feel hands on you, jostling you as someone tried to manoeuvre you out of your curled up position.

"C'mon pretty baby, parties only just begun..."

You didn't recognise their voice and even in your half asleep state you weren't naive enough to presume this was just one of the guys trying to prank you. This was real, really happening and the moment that fact registered with you you were gripped with panic.

Without opening your eyes you froze, hoping desperately that if you just pretended not to have woken up you'd spoil their fun and they'd leave you alone. After all what could they possibly get out of you whilst you were asleep.

"Looks like someone's been on the junk..." You heard one of the snigger, their friend laughing too, a hint of delight in his voice that made your blood run cold.

"Oh boy," he cried, "she's gonna easyyy..." You heard him clap and rub his hands together before you felt hands slip beneath your knees to pull your legs away from your chest. You tried to resist a little, but only a little. Scared that if you fought back they'd realise you were awake and get ten times worse.

You knew there was nothing you could do as you felt a hand grope your breast and then another push your knees apart. The horror which gripped you was truly paralysing, your body freezing up, every muscle in you stiffening as you became rigid. There was no questioning whether you were awake now, your eyes shoot open as you starred, absolutely petrified at the grimy, practically toothless man leering down at you.

"Well would you look at that boys!" He grinned a brown, rotten smile. Your felt a cold creeping sickness tighten in your stomach, thoughts rushing through your head so fast they blurred into one.

What were they going to do to you? Why weren't you screaming? Why weren't you calling for Cal?

You wanted to desperately, but something was stopping you. That nauseous lump in your throat that had you struggling to breath let alone scream.

"C'mon baby, gimme some sugar..." He winked, his tone so laden with the threat of what he might do next, so spiteful and cruel. You knew he was enjoying scaring you half to death.

His friends jeered and laughed along, cheering him on, snatching at you, pulling your hair, their unwashed grimy faces hovering above you as they tried to get their mouths on you.

Cal

That was the only word you could conjor to mind in that moment. He was all you could think of. Desperate as you were for him to come back inside and save you.

And just like that it was over.

You didn't really see what happened but you heard it. The sound of a bottle smashing over the back of someone's head. You heard the strange gurgle in the back of your attackers throat as his eyes rolled back and his head slumped. His whole body falling to the side as Cal shoved him aside and out the way.

"Get your fuckin hands off my girl man," he wasn't looking at you, he was glaring with all the hatred in the world at the second man. The one who had been pulling your hair and threatening to let his string of drool land between your eyes.

He let you, raising his hands above his head and backing away when he saw the threat in your mans eyes.

You couldn't move, still frozen to the sofa you'd probably never feel safe on again.

"Shit man is she yours? We're sorry Cal we didn't realise!" But his defense was weak and seeing the whites of your attackers eyes only stirred Cal's rage all the more.

His hand gripped the neck of the now broken bottle he held as he raised it above his head.

"We don't want no trouble Cal, it was a misunderstanding! Thought she was free game man! It was a misunderstanding!" The man looked real scared, shaking his head and cowering away from Cal who had frozen with the broken bottle raised and ready to strike. The gleam of sharp glass caught the light, glinting with malice.

You didn't realise the scream which had rang out moments before had been yours. That it had been the sound of your terror which had stopped Cal in his tracks. His eyes now locked on you.

"Fuck I'm sorry! We're sorry!" The third man tripped over his words, his voice real whiny with fear as Benny interrupted, charging into the scene, snatching the lecherous creep by the scruff of his shirt, fist colliding with his grimy face.

But that was all you saw before Cal rushed to you. He'd dropped that broken bottle the second he saw your petrified little face, guilt tugging on his heartstrings because he thought he was the reason you were now so scared, trembling where you sat.

"Sweet angel I am so sorry baby! Didn't mean t'scare you doll c'mere, gonna get you outa here baby don't need to be scared no more honey..." He said his tone so soft for you as he rushed to wrap his arms around you and pick you up. He wanted you out of there faster than was humanly possible but he was determined to give light speed a good go.

You threw your arms around him, burying your face into his neck as you held onto him for dear life. As he rushed you away from the chaos of the fight which Johnny and Wahoo has both joined now too, you felt like your life really did depend on Cal in that moment.

When he got you outside he placed you down gently on the seat of his bike, not ever really letting go of you as he held your waist and cupped your face in his palm.

"Let me look at you angel, did they hurt you?" He asked stroking your cheek with his thumb as he studied you for signs of harm. "I'm so sorry honey shoulda taken you home hours ago..."

Of course they had hurt you, even if there were no marks to prove it, emotionally you felt completely wrecked. Humiliated, terrified, so full of shame and guilt.

"M'okay," you tried to be brave, tried to pretend you weren't half as upset as you were but with your voice shaking the way it was and that godforsaken heartbroke look in your eyes Cal could see straight through your brave face. He shook his head and sighed.

"No you're not, course you're not baby..." He said doing his best to hold himself together too, to be calm enough to be what you needed right now instead of storming back inside and killing the bastards that hurt his baby.

You choked on another sob as you too tried to hold yourself together. Now it was just you and him outside you felt the adrenaline rush tearing through you, wrecking your nerves. You were shaking, but you didn't want to let your man down or ruin his night. You wanted to beg him to take you home but you didn't want to be dramatic.

"I'm so sorry Cal!" You said struggling to hold back your tears. You bit down on your lip so hard as you tried to fight back a sob.

Cal could see the tears in your eyes but he also knew you hated crying in front of people. He knew you'd never forgive yourself if you cried in front of his friends so before any of them could come outside and disturb you both he shook his head.

"S'alright baby," he said, "not here alright, let me take you home yeah..." He said helping you to sit properly on the back of his bike before he too straddled the seat and gripped the handles. "Gonna take you home like I shoulda done hours ago..." He'd never held that bike so tight in all his life as he revved the engine and told you to hold on tight. Of course you never wanted to let go of your man ever again.

As the two of you sped off into the early morning darkness, Cal's tires spitting gravel and dirt out behind you as he broke the speed limit, you held onto him tighter than you ever had before, your hands slipping beneath his shirt so that you could feel his chest beneath your shakey hands. You rested your cheek against his back listening to his racing heart beat almost as fast as yours. His familiar scent and the heavy dusty air soothed you a little as you shut your eyes and tried to focus on the present moment. Tried not to think about what had just happened, what might have happened to you had Cal not turned up when he did.

And when your mind began to race with too many terrible scenarios for you to handle on your own you couldn't help but shout for him to stop.

"Cal! Please stop!" You shouted fighting to be heard over the grumble of the engine. But Cal heard you loud and clear, feeling your voice and your breath skim his ear as you called out to him. Stopping the bike in a panic so that you skidded to a halt at the side of the road.

You were out in the middle of nowhere, tilled farmland to your left and right, worn out fences running along the roadside.

It was dark but for the headlight on Cal's bike lighting up the night and when he killed the engine the night was silent but for your ragged breathing. His too.

"What is it baby?" He asked you turning to look back at you with worry in his eyes. "What's the matter?"

But you could barely speak, everything hitting you, the rush of fear, the desperate urge to scream, all of it hitting you all at once leaving you on the brink of tears. Tears you couldn't hold back any longer.

"S...sorry!" You cried, your voice a choked sob as you clutched your hand to your mouth to try and stop yourself.

But Cal was already helping you down from the bike, wrapping you up in his arms gently, his hand combing through your hair before cradling your head against his chest. He rested his chin in your parting and rocked you gently, closing his eyes as he tried to calm you. He just wanted to make your pain stop. He hoped Benny had killed that good for nothing back at the bar, if he hadn't well then Cal might just head down tomorrow and kill him himself.

"Angel, honey it's alright," he said as gently as he could, "I've got you baby, no one's gonna hurt you now, s'jus me an you my sweet girl..."

"I know..." You sniffled as you clutched him close and let him guide you both to the ground.

He sat you both down on the grassy verge at the edge of the field and shifted you up into his lap, cradling you in his arms. He held a lingering kiss to your hair and shut his eyes listening to your sobs shatter the cool quiet night.

The road was dark for miles, the two of you completely alone, but that was good. That was peaceful. It meant that you were safe to cry your heart out. Meant that no one could disturb you either. Cal shrugged his jacket off and draped it around your shoulders, kissing your head again as he stroked his hand down your arm and held you close.

"You're safe baby, I won't let no one hurt you honey..." He said it again feeling all kinds of guilt because it was too late. You were already hurt. This was the aftermath of that hurt, hurt he should have been around to prevent.

"I'm s...sorry Cal," you sniffled, "shouldn't have fallen asleep like that it was stupid of me..."

"Honey no!" His whispered exclamation so certain, he couldn't believe you were blaming yourself.

"Know y'dont like it when I fall asleep like that, should t have..." You carried on, not really listening to him, so scared he was going to be angry with you. But how could he be.

"Baby, baby... baby stop that," he hushed you dragging the pet name out slow and sweet for you until your trembling lips hushed and you looked up at him, so dependent on him. "You don't apologise for nothin baby," he said firmly, pushing his finger to your lips to make sure you kept listening to him. "Baby that was not your fault... Wasn't your fault at all...It's these new guys, theres somethin wrong with em, they're fucked up... Now they shouldn't have been anywhere near you whether you were sleepin or awake, they had no right and they know it..." He said desperate to reassure you that it wasn't your fault. And as you listened to him you felt yourself beginning to calm down, felt your trembling calm as he stroked your back gently and rocked you in his arms.

"And I shoulda been there," he said a little quieter then, "I shoulda been there to stop em..."

"You did stop em." You reminded him quietly, trying to wipe your tears from your eyes, letting him do it instead, his calloused thumbs brushing your skin so carefully.

"I know honey, but I shoulda stopped em sooner.." he said swallowing the lump that looking at your sad eyes left in his throat.

"You stopped em just in time," you said, a small smile gracing your lips as you remembered what he'd said as that bottle had come smashing down on your attackers head. You let out a small giggle, one which simultaneously confused and delighted your ol' man.

"hey," he chuckled nervously, "what was that for?"

You bit back your smile as you tried to mimic his accent.

"Get your hands of my girl, man..." You said, your eyes lighting up when you looked back at him and saw him grin a little sheepishly.

"ha," he smirked almost shyly, "yeah I guess I did say that didn't I..." He mirrored your grin when you giggled and nodded your head.

"Y'know I never been more glad to see your face..." You admitted shyly, "moment I saw you I knew I was safe, knew you wouldn't let anythin happen to me..." You said smiling, your fingers playing with one another as you grew shy.

Your adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off now and you weren't shaking anymore. You just felt hollowed out and tired and as you shied away from Cal you had to hide your yawn behind your hand.

"That's right sweet girl," he said, his smile growing when he caught the blush on your cheeks, "your ol' Cal's always gonna protect you..."

So he pulled you back in for another hug, cradling you so gentle and firm like you were the most precious thing in the world. And then as he kissed your temple, and then your cheek, he let out a sigh of relief.

"C'mon baby doll," he said softly, "let me take you home, gonna hold you all night yeah?"

"Yeah." You said with a soft smile, your voice so quiet and calm as you looked up at him with such trusting eyes. He held his hands out to help you up and when you stood they found your waist, held you in front of him so carefully.

"I love you honey," he said, his eyes checking you over once more for any injury, anything he might have missed, only letting you stand on your tip toes to skim a kiss over his lips.

"Love you too baby," you whispered, your eyes gazing up into his like he was your whole world, because really he was... Your whole world.

You stood for a moment, leaning against his chest as he held you, chin atop your head, cherishing the feeling of being held by him, so close to him. The two of you listening to the still of the night, standing so still at the side of the road as you closed your eyes and let yourself lean against him completely. Letting him take your weight as you felt all your energy drain from you. Remembering how tired you had been before you'd been so scared.

Well now you were safe and your exhaustion was overpowering, your eyes struggling to stay open.

Cal could feel you growing weary, his chuckle rousing you from the precipice of sleep.

"C'mon doll, y'better wake up, I've gotta get you home..." He said tickling your cheek with his stubble to make you giggle and wake up a little bit.

"Am awake," you promised, your eyes lighting up at the thought of being home, of Cal lying down with you and pulling the blankets over your intertwined bodies.

"Atta girl," he teased you, kissing your nose before helping you onto his bike, making you promise you'd hold on tight, one hand resting on top of your two hands linked around his waist.

As he revved the engine and the two of you went riding again through the dark his hand would return to yours at every opportunity he could spare. Patting your knuckles, stroking his thumb over your fingers, half to keep you awake, half to reassure himself that you were still there. That you were still his, safe and sound holding onto him.

He'd never known relief like it when he parked the bike up outside, and lifted you up bridal style in his arms, holding you to his chest as he carried you to the front door. He kicked it open and then kicked it closed behind you both, carrying you straight up the stairs to the bathroom where he placed you down on the edge of the bath tub, mimicking your pout when you looked up at him.

"M'sleepy..." You whined making him chuckle as he pushed your hair from your eyes and stroked his fingers over your tear stained cheeks.

"I know baby I know," he cooed, "let me wash your face an I'll take you straight to bed, I promise..." He said. He didn't want to let you fall asleep with a tear stained face and the evenings makeup running down your cheeks. It would only irritate your skin and, in the morning when you woke, serve as a reminder of the awful thing that had happened to you. No when you woke up in the morning he didn't want there to be a single trace of the nights events to haunt you.

"M'kay," you agreed, yawning and rubbing your eyes, waiting for him to damp a cloth with warm water and dab it to your cheeks. You shivered as the warm water trickled down your skin, it was so soothing, lulling you into even more of a lethargic haze. Your eyes were fluttering shut as he washed your face gently, every movement careful and tender. When he was finished he held a towel up for you to bury your face in and, when for a moment you didn't move, he worried you'd actually fallen asleep there, your face nuzzled into the fluffy towel, your head only held up by his hands.

"You gonna walk or dya need a carry?" He asked as you wrapped your arms around his waist and leant against his belly. When you nuzzled wordlessly into his t-shirt he knew your answer.

He let out a yawn of his own, scooping you up into his arms once more, kissing your cheek as you clutched at his shirt, never once opening your eyes.

And then finally he was lying you down on the bed, asking you to help him help you out of your dress. Being ever so careful not to startle you as his fingers skimmed your waist. He pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it in a pile at the foot of the bed along with your clothes. Finding you a clean shirt of his that he could pull down over your head. It fell down around you, far too big for you. Made you look so small and sweet as you lay down and reached for him.

"Hurry up baby..." You yawned making grabby hands at him.

All he'd wanted to do all evening was wrap you up in his arms, have you fall asleep with your head on his chest. Cocoon around you so that you felt safe and a snug, so that you could sleep peacefully.

And that was what he did, falling down into the bed beside you, his arms bundling you to his body, pulling the covers up over your shoulders. Kissing your cheek, your temple, each of your eyes, your nose and then, pausing. He held your cheek in the cup of his hand and looked down at you.

"Can I kiss you baby?" He asked you, something he'd never really needed to ask you before. But tonight he wanted to be sure. Needed to know he wasn't going to scare you or remind you of anything you didn't want reminded off.

You bit back a smile, opening your eyes so that you could look up at him.

"Please," you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut as he smiled and leant in.

When his lips met yours you felt a warm flutter in your chest, a sanctified feeling spreading through your body, radiating from your heart. You'd never felt so loved as you did in that moment as his lips moved against yours, his nose knocking with yours as you both tried to slip just a little closer to one another. You never wanted him to pull away, despite how sleepy you were. Despite the fact that your head was heavy in his hand. You were sure you wouldn't be able to open your eyes again now that they had closed. But you felt so dreamy and content, so peaceful and cherished. So safe. So it didn't matter. And Cal held you and kissed you, only pulling away to kiss your cheek again, to stroke your hair from your face tenderly, to kiss your forehead and watch as you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

He would have waited up and watched over you all night if his own exhaustion hadn't hit him too. And now that he knew you were safe, that you were happy and peacefully dreaming, he finally felt able to drift off too. But he held you in his arms all night, your heart's syncing to beat a gentle rhythm together.

[talizoraa]

Some early game Baldur’s Gate 3 tips

- Once you’ve rescued Shadowheart from her pod on the Nautiloid, you can press K on pc (idk about controller) to see her spell list and change her prepared spells. Swap out one of her spells for Command. Now you can use command to make the devil drop his sword and easily go and pick it up. Even if you can’t use it, this is a very strong early game sword even for your party members and there’s no reason not to do this. Once he’s dropped his weapon it’s easier to kill him, but still very tough. He gives a lot of xp though, so it’s your choice. (Thanks to my gf for this she’s a genius)

- Long rest as often as possible. Especially if you care about your companions personal stories and your relationships with them. As you progress the story and recruit your party members, camp events get added to a queue with different urgency attached to them. If you don’t long rest enough, you will miss a lot of these. Some of them are important for quests, some are just for learning more about your companions, but you can get a lot of approval if you do them, if that’s something you care about. The majority of the time there is no downside to long resting frequently, with camp supplies being very easy to come by. There are a small number of quests that will change after you long rest, but by far fewer than I thought there would be. If you’re worried, you can f5 to quick save before long rest. On my earlier saves, I used long rest very sparingly and missed a lot of events I would’ve liked to have seen. (Also obviously restoring spell slots and hp and stuff)

- If you are not playing a cleric or a druid, and don’t feel like constantly having Shadowheart in your party, you can go here to loot a necklace with Guidance on it. Guidance is extremely good for dice rolls and I absolutely recommend picking this up.

- This last ones mostly just for fun, once you reach the Emerald Grove, head up the path to the east from the entrance and you can meet Alfira the tiefling bard. Talk to her and offer to play with her, pass all the difficulty checks and you’ll learn to play musical instruments. There’s also a chest here with an item for bards inside. Head north east from her to fight some harpies and rescue a tiefling boy, who will give you access to the kids hideout. Again these aren’t super important, just helpful, and the instrument proficiency is fun. These will NOT be available after you complete the main quest for the zone. (Image is from google, don’t know what the other markers are)

- Oh also, these are pretty well known but just in case. As I said, F5 to quicksave, F8 to quickload. Hold ALT to see almost all lootable objects. Hold SHIFT to see enemy’s cones of vision.

These are just a few tips that would have helped me out had I known them sooner, that I’ve hardly seen mentioned anywhere else. There’s more obvious ones, like making sure you recruit Wyll and Karlach before moving on to act 2, as they’re easily missable, and fully exploring the crash site to find all the available companions. Feel free to let me know if there’s any more I should add or reblog with your own!

[blackjackkent]

This time I happened to remember that we can enter the Guildhall from the direct entrance in Heapside, which coincidentally brings us in right next to where Roah is hanging out. This, as it turns out, is quite fun, because we get a cutscene that I definitely did not get with Hector, and which is at least partly specific to having Minsc in the party.

"So it's that simple!" Roah is holding forth from a high platform in the Guildhall, shouting down at the Guild criminals lining the hall below. All of them have weapons drawn, as do the Zhents, and everyone is practically vibrating with rage. "Drop your weapons, bring out Nine-Fingers, and this can all end peacefully - for you at least!"

Hearing the unexpected footsteps behind her, Roah spins - and fixes her eyes on Minsc with a slow smirk. "What's this, Stone Lord?" she asks mockingly. "It's a little late to change the terms of our deal. The pieces are already in place."

Minsc bristles. "The Stone Lord is no more," he growls. "Boo and Jaheira and my friend would not let me stay cursed."

(A/N: I know they can't actually say Rakha's name here for obvious reasons, but I feel like this could have been phrased literally any other way and it would feel less awkward. XD Usually the game is better at this.)

He leans forward, towering threateningly over the halfling. "And the only terms we offer are between my boot and your treacherous buttocks!"

Despite the monstrous difference in size between her and the man threatening her, Roah does not flinch, does not even blink. She just smiles, slow, derisive, and flicks her eyes towards Rakha. "I see," she drawls. "That's unfortunate. And what about the adult in the room?"

Rakha's eyes narrow icily. Roah, it seems, has not gotten the memo that insulting Rakha's friends is a fast-track ticket to pissing her off.

"Whatever I told that lot below," Roah continues casually, oblivious to (or uncaring of) the anger she is eliciting, "this *will* end in bloodshed. All you have to do is pick the right side."

Rakha is conscious of Minsc's bubbling rage, of Jaheira's colder, wary fury. The outcome of this conversation was decided before they even came in the door; Roah is only making things much, much worse for herself.

"I will," Rakha says flatly, "but I don't think you'll like my choice."

"Hah. A hero!" Roah barks a laugh. "There's a time for heroics, my friend, and a time for common sense. This is the latter."

She steps forward, ignoring Minsc completely and focusing only on Rakha. "The Zhentarim have been trying to crack Baldur's Gate for years, but Nine-Fingers' grip has become too strong. And look what it's come to. Her Guild is disorganized, undisciplined. The cult broke them in a matter of days, while my Zhentarim still stand strong."

Her eyes glint eagerly. "A Guild under *our* control can do what Nine-Fingers failed to - drive the Absolute out of the city once and for all. And then remain on in the city, to protect its good citizens from any future threats... for a reasonable fee of course."

(A/N: I truly enjoy Roah as a character. XD Nothing phases her; she knows what she wants and is supremely confident at literally every moment. It won't save her, but it does make her a lot of fun.)

"My hamster can smell your lies, villain!" Minsc cuts across her with a roar of anger. "Foul not his little nose!"

"Fine," Roah says calmly, turning towards him with a disingenuous smile, her gaze hard and pointed. "Let us talk of *truth*, then. Do your friends know how many you killed in the Absolute's name, Stone Lord? Do *you*?"

(A/N: Ohohohoho ouch.)

Minsc stiffens, backpedaling a step. "I-- do not call me that!" he snarls. "Minsc is Minsc!"

"Oh?" Roah takes a step forward, pressing her advantage, a smirk spreading across her face. "Oh? I don't recall any tales of Minsc helping the likes of Nine-Fingers," she sneers. "A known thief. A *murderer*. I thought Minsc of Rashemen served the side of good?"

Her eyes widen in mock-astonishment, and then she laughs as Minsc sputters, his shoulders hunching away from the accusations. "I'm the last to judge, big man," she says with casual condescension. "You were just following orders. And hey - that's all you have to do now."

Her eyes return to Rakha, who has been following this whole conversation without moving a muscle except the one twitching in her jaw. "If you don't know what's right, just let the grownups talk. Because I *know* your friend will make the smart choice."

Rakha scowls.

Up until this point, Roah has been, at best, a small fish in the very large pond of this ever-shifting and incredibly tangled situation. But she is doing a very good job of shoving herself with express speed to the top of Rakha's shit list.

I know your friend will make the right choice.

Perhaps Roah knows perfectly well who Rakha is. Perhaps she knows that Bhaal's blood ran in her veins, and that up until very recently she would have gladly thrown in with the Zhent for the pure joy of the bloodshed to follow. Or, perhaps, she simply thinks Rakha is an easy mark to be lured with coin and flattery.

Either way, it doesn't matter, because she has insulted Minsc, taunted him with the memory of the terrible things he did under the Absolute's influence.

Minsc, who Rakha has seen as an aspirational figure almost from the moment she met him - a force of chaos and madness and violence nevertheless devoted to doing good. A man who called Rakha 'friend' without prompting, while knowing the state of her wretched blood. One of the few who has truly made her believe that she is a creature worth salvaging.

And Rakha herself carries too many memories of the evil she's wrought to listen to Minsc being abused for his. She can see the way that he has slumped under the barrage of verbal fire, the way his shoulders have hunched in and his eyes narrowed in pain.

It will not stand.

"You're mistaken," she growls. "Minsc of Rashemen *always* knows the right thing to do."

(A/N: In-game it only showed Minsc approving here, but according to the dialogue files, it's ['Wyll 2', 'Karlach 2', 'Jaheira 10', 'Minsc 10', 'Halsin 2'], which is delightful.)

There's a long, long silence. Minsc turns his head to look at Rakha, and then he draws himself to his full height, his shoulders squaring, his eyes losing the haunted expression. With one long stride he moves to stand at Roah's side, overlooking the Zhent and Guild forces below.

"Your leader is not wrong!" he bellows out to them. "The Guild is a band of treacherous scoundrels, and Nine-Fingers the worst among them!"

Rakha blinks, shoots a look sideways at Jaheira. Jaheira says nothing; her eyes are fixed on the back of Minsc's head, unblinking.

"But the Stone Lord... Minsc..." Minsc goes on, with a touch of bitterness, "was many times worse. I have no right to judge."

He reaches into his pocket, then lifts one hand, his hamster balanced on his palm.

"So it will not be Minsc who does the judging!" he cries.

With a loud squeak, Boo scurries up his arm and onto his shoulder. Minsc narrows his eyes, his voice lifting to echo through the huge room. "MY HAMSTER WILL COUNT TO THREE!" he roars. "LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS, ZHENTARIM, AND BOO WILL SPARE YOUR LIVES!"

Roah gapes, then turns to stare up at Rakha disbelievingly. "Truly?" she snaps. "I am handing you the Guild, and you'd throw it all away on the word of a madman?"

Rakha stares back at her wordlessly. There's a loud squeak from Boo, shrill enough to make their teeth ache.

Roah's veneer of cool is starting to slip; there's a flash of anxiety in her eyes. "Think about this!" she hisses. "It defies all logic! I--"

Another squeak, louder this time, a warning in it. Minsc's hand hovers over the hilt of his greatsword.

Roah scowls. "Oh, enough of this," she snaps, and darts away, setting an arrow to her bow as she goes. "ZHENTARIM! TO ARMS!"