#took me all day just to get through episode one 😫

[firegiftlouis]

“Discerning prey for the discerning predator” I forgot how blatantly the show says some things because hello???? He just fucking SAID it.

Lestat was wrong for crashing the funeral but I’m glad he broke that Finn guy’s arm lol fuck that guy (he helped burn down the Azalea in ep 3).

“She just gotta put it somewhere, don’t let it inside” Oh Grace, Louis definitely let that inside and probably more 😕.

Also worth noting that offering to walk Florence home was Louis’ attempt to reach out to her but she rejected it and basically claims Levi as her new son right then and there. That old anger is coming back strong as fuck lol fuck her.

“And lord I dragged my family into this mess with me” oop just as I said earlier, Louis feels like he damns those he loves 😭.

I have no idea what Father Mathias was gonna say to that banger monologue but Lestat got to him before he had a chance lol rip. I wonder why Paul requested confessional from Father Mathias in particular? Was it because he knew them as kids? Did he give good advice? He seemed nice enough I think he might’ve given Louis some kind of consolation.

Louis’ soaking wet look in the church might be his best human look not gonna lie 💕. It’s giving gothic romance heroine who stumbles upon a creepy castle in the woods, in the rain, at night and passes out in front of the main entrance seconds later before being brought in by the creepy staff lol.

“All these hats you wear and none of them your true nature” your true nature is Lestat’s significantly younger house wife 🥺 lol.

There was a post going around a week or so ago that asked whether people thought Lestat would have left Louis alone if he said no to Lestat in the church that night and I’m definitely still of the opinion that it’s a no. Maybe when I first watched this episode when it first came out and long before ep 5 aired I might’ve said “yeah he probably would’ve left” but rewatching this episode and knowing what’s going to happen later on makes me say no out right now lol.

I also maintain that Louis’ consent when he says yes to Lestat is “dubious” at best. It’s definitely not informed consent at least, Louis doesn’t know what the “dark gift” is or what it entails, we see in the next episode he nearly gets himself killed when he tries to walk home in the sun, and I think it’s safe to say whatever else Lestat says to Louis during his “proposal”, it wasn’t a point by point explanation of what vampirism is lol. He’s also drunk (there’s no way he sobered up that fast from the brothel and he looked pretty damn drunk then), and grieving, and isolated, and at the lowest point he has ever been in his life (so far).

We can argue that not everything Lestat does is calculated and that in many ways he’s pretty impulsive, but let’s be honest here, Louis ghosted him for a few weeks at most? He didn’t even wait for Paul to be in the ground (or cement since this is New Orleans) before accosting Louis, and he wasn’t about to lose the best opportunity he has to get Louis as his companion. So yeah that’s at minimum “taking advantage”.

And for the record I like Loustat and Lestat (I’d think my blog would already be a good indicator of that but who knows) but I saw someone once said Louis chose vampirism unlike Lestat and I was like mmmmmm??? I don’t know about that chief. Don’t get me wrong, obviously Lestat’s “birth” was way worse (if we’re playing the trauma Olympics here lol), but I think especially keeping in mind what happens in the rest of the season, Louis’ turning is basically an illusion of consent that he’s giving to something he doesn’t even fully understand at this point, to a guy he’s known for maybe 2 months at most.

Obviously a great start to a cringe fail marriage 💕

Anyways episode 1 is still amazing, second only to episode 7 in my mind (might change after watching the whole show but who knows). I don’t know why I thought seeing gifs on here every day would make rewatching the show feel less necessary, because the gifs are not a substitute for the real deal 😍.

Aight finally starting the first ep, here I go!

[lilgoblinbitch]

saw your post about rick and daryl, do you think you could write a rick TOWL smut with him angry that you left your post and got yourself injured and he takes out his frustration on you? idk why just had that idea after the recent episode😫

Grimes' Dominion 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

a/n: ahhh omg yes i actually had time to think abt this for a few nights. i added a bit of plot to this because i love me some backstory & descriptions. but anyway i made this pretty lengthy so if u wanna skip to the smut part just look for the '💋'. here is your plotty smut! lmk your thoughts ₊˚⊹♡

warnings: smut 18+, PinV, unprotected sex, oral/face fucking (male receiving), slight bondage, fingering, ass slapping, hair pulling, orgasm denial, degradation (use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’), language, mentions of blood and injury, angsty angsty angst!, reader is a mother, overall Rick is very rough so you have been warned

wc: 6k

MDNI

It was training day at your post. You had recently graduated from consignee and signed up to become a CRM soldier. It took you six whole years to get to this point. While your agility and militia knowledge were already unprecedented, the CRM didn't fuck around when it came to producing the world's most unrivalled soldiers. It was serious business.

Nearly eight years ago, you trekked a long journey down from your small community in southern New Jersey. You lost everything: your husband, your friends, and the people you lived with and grew stronger with through the grisly and dilapidated post-apocalyptic world. Terrible people – which were apparently becoming more and more common – destroyed your community, leaving very few survivors. It was you and your newborn child who managed to escape safely; you weren't able to go back to see if others had made it out. For almost two years you were alone, and your only hope left was keeping your baby boy alive...

Fast forward two years after the traumatic fallout you managed to escape, you discovered, or rather you were found by, a giant military in Pennsylvania, called the CRM. A military that bordered and protected a whole city of people – 200,000 of them. Out of desperation and maternal instinct, you bargained with the militia in hopes to give your two-year-old son a stable future. The CRM agreed to place your son in a 'nurturing fostering service' within the safe confines of the protected city – known as the Civic Republic of Philadelphia – so long as you swore to abide by the military's code and regulations by becoming a consignee.

Of course you agreed, because you were nonetheless terrified of what would happen to your baby boy if you didn't play it safe with this strong force. But for a while you lost it, you couldn't bear not seeing your child – they took him from you. You became defensive of your child, throwing yourself into dilemmas with whoever refused to listen to you. Except no one ever took notice of an angry and hurt mother because the CRM showed little mercy about their policies. And no matter how much force you put into finding hope about getting to your son, you'd always end up falling right back where you left off.

Soon enough you learned from acquiring an acquaintance that not only did the CRM take the only family you had left away from you, they were the ones responsible for destroying your home in the first place.

But now, six years later, you were predisposed to fight whoever and whatever got in your way in order to see your son again. You were a force to be reckoned with.

"No, you're doing it wrong. You gotta follow through, like this—" your sweaty hand maneuvered the heavy spear, sending it soaring through the air at high speed and finally piercing the bullseye of the target. You turned to the soldier beside you, who, to say the least, looked perplexed.

"What?" You huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face. "Ya give up? Need a break?"

"’Ey! Rogers, I'mma need ya to head back inside. We're gonna start sizing you all up for your new gear."

A brooding and strict man, Sergeant Major Rick Grimes, commanded the young man beside you. "Uh, yes sir," he saluted, then jogged toward the dome-shaped building.

Rick Grimes used to be a consignee like you were, and you even heard stories where he tried escaping at least four times. No one ever fled, or even attempted to, without failing. Escaping the hellhole was like trying to fit your right shoe on your left foot, it was entirely fruitless. But you heard all the stories about Rick, and how he got to become a leader. After the death of Lieutenant Colonel Donald Okafor, Rick was trained to replace his position by virtue of General Beale taking note of his loyalty to the military. Now, Rick was scaling further up the ranks. He was Sergeant Major, and in charge of the post you currently resided in.

You looked up to him, though, not because he was your leader, but because he understood you. He recognized how it felt to have your family ripped from your hands and not be able to do anything about it. You were able to bond with him. Most nights he would invite you to his apartment and the two of you'd spill your guts to one another over a glass or two of bourbon. That is how he got to know you, and see through your clouded demeanor that you kept in check. You were fierce and obstinate, because the place you were trapped in forced you to be that way, and truthfully Rick admired that about you. He was never able to relate with someone as well as he did with you.

Feedback echoed from Rick's receiver and he lifted it to his masked face, stating his position and whatnot. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to give you an order. "Well?"

He turned his attention to you, finally. "We need to talk." His one good hand snagged a hold of your arm and guided you toward a smaller brick-designed building, which you recognized to be the building that housed the high ranking officials like Rick himself.

"What do we need to talk about? And why is Rogers getting his gear but I'm not?" You struggled against his grip, a decision that ended with futility as his clutch tightened when you tried pulling away from him. You furrowed your brows and grunted in annoyance.

"Relax, sweetheart, you're not in trouble. Actually it's quite the opposite." Once again he faced you, stopping in his tracks as you both had reached the air-conditioned building. His grasp on your arm loosened and then reached for his matte black helmet detailed with red outlining. Your eyes darted across the room, taking in the essence of prestige and momentarily locking in on the various framed photos on the walls, which depicted a few recognizable CRM authoritative figures. One particular photo caught your attention, and you carefully examined it, discerning it to be Rick himself with a shiny black name plate decorating the bottom of the frame.

Your gaze finally diverted back to Rick, whose helmet popped off in a swift motion, freeing his slightly disheveled brown and gray curls, and his stern blue eyes – the spellbinding reflections to his enigmatic soul. And this man was undoubtedly a sight for sore eyes. 

The silence was disrupted by the shuffling of Rick’s boots, his curt footsteps leading him across the room. He pulled out a chair from the corner and without any trouble picked it up with one hand and set it down across from a dark wooden desk. “Sit.” He motioned to the chair, and then found a seat in the larger, more cushioned chair adjacent to it. Without a peep you sauntered over to the wooden chair and sat, folding your hands on the desk in front of you. 

“You gonna keep me on edge or are you gonna tell me why I’m here and not at training and getting my gear?”

His serious eyes bored into yours now, hinting that he wasn’t in the mood for your cynicism. “I brought you in here to tell you that you’re going to become Colonel under my order.”

You scoffed comically and dropped your hands to your sides, gripping the chair with force. “That’s ridiculous. Me – Colonel? Why?” 

Rick’s focus never left your unserious face – one that was twisted with amusement. With a slight tilt of his head, he spoke, “Because you’re one of the best fighters and you’re fit to start leading, I know it. And I trust you, so does Major General Beale. We both expect your habitual commitment from now on.”

While you were still preoccupied with processing this information, Rick reached into one of his sleeve pockets and pulled out a silver badge, decorated with ‘Col.’ followed by your full name. He slid it across the desk toward you and you scrutinized it before giving him a look of disapproval and sliding the badge back to him. You shook your head in defiance.

“No thanks.” 

He frowned and once again his frigid stare taunted you, something you’d undoubtedly gotten used to very much over the past few years that you'd known him. He leaned forward and for a second you could feel the steam emitting from his nose as he exhaled, eyes scanning your face for any signs of possible sarcasm. You were dead serious now, though.

“This isn’t an offer you can refuse. It’s an order,” the sergeant commanded, grabbing the badge reiteratively and this time placing it firmly into your hand. “So take it, and don’t lose it.” 

You remained perched in your spot, not stirring any muscle, just studying his face with the badge dancing across your fingertips. Rick was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Now do as I say, and meet me in that meeting room over there, in 10 minutes.”

You snarled and swiftly rose, shoving the badge into your zipper pocket. Without even giving Rick another look you booked it out the door full tilt.

All throughout meeting with Grimes and Command Sergeant Major Thorne and overlooking your shared brigade of soldiers, your mind couldn’t escape the worry you had about your son, and how you were going to escape and find him. Your mind raced as you tried to recollect what the map of your base looked like, so that you could pinpoint which weak spots there were around the perimeter.

You recall a little while back which security took which shifts at each area of the southwest perimeter where your complex was, but it wasn’t all that simple since sometimes they’d switch shifts around. However, security officers periodically switched their attention to different areas at a time out along the walls, so you could use that as leverage to sneak your way around and cut a hole in one of the fences–

Nah. That would be too obvious, and dangerously stupid. You needed to really think this through – come up with a strategic plan. So that’s what you were prepared to do after your first night of training as Colonel. 

Sweaty and disheveled, you entered your sleeping quarters and kicked the door shut, immediately peeling off your bulky armor and tossing your heavy combat boots across the floor. With a satisfactory sigh, you trotted over to the shower and flipped the handle all the way to the left – you needed a steamy shower to filter out all the stress your body had been loaded with that day. Not only that, the steam would help you think, and you needed your head clear if you were going to figure out how to leave successfully that night. 

If you were going to escape – if. You needed to keep that thought in mind, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be a piece of cake.

Frantically you shoved a handful of essentials into a black backpack – a lighter, duct tape, a pocket knife, flashlight, and a small glock you 'borrowed' from your trip with rick to the armory earlier. After zipping up the bag you threw on your combat boots and your gloves. You checked your watch for the time; 11:48 it read. The moon was scintillating in the sky and beaming with conviction. You took one last glimpse around the room to check if you had forgotten any extra tools or gadgets, and before you confirmed that you were ready to head out, you spotted something on the rusty gunmetal colored nightstand.

Inquisitively you wandered over to the table and examined a small, white folded paper. You unfolded it and inside it read, in urgent script:

“Meet me at my place at 11:30 tonight. Need to talk again.

-R.G.”

Too late now. Not happening. Besides, you were sure it was another booty call because for one, on busy task days like tonight, Rick often had a knack for ‘letting off steam,’ which meant fucking your brains out. Sorry, Rick, but my child is more important to me than easing your sexual frustration. And two, it was already reaching midnight…why else would he want to “talk” to you so late at night? Rick was just too obvious.

Speaking of Rick…

The man who shared his bourbon with you for the first time two years ago. That very night he had spilled to you CRM’s legacy and the nightmares behind it. The two of you bonded over your mutual grievance toward the antagonizing militia. Rick spurred hope in you finally leaving and finding your son; if anyone could help you escape it was him. But he changed – his interest in leaving the CRM no longer seemed to exist. After all, he was already climbing his way up the military rank. He was gaining power and respect, and that seemed to be more crucial to him then getting back to his own children. 

So, screw him. He had his chance to leave with you, and it already passed – because now you were tiptoeing out your apartment and being welcomed into the darkness of the night.

You were cautious of your surroundings, turning a few corners and eluding one or two officers. You noticed the southwest wall, which didn't look impossible to climb. You discovered a hefty pile of broken shipment container parts – bingo. And that's what you used to climb the wall. unfortunately your endeavor led to you stumbling and hitting both your knee and your arm against the metal object, then landing with your hands scraping against the unforgiving concrete. Fuck. What an idiot you were. Surely someone within about twenty feet of you heard you basically eat shit.

Gritting your teeth and whimpering from the twinge that shot through your knees and hands, you managed to put every fiber of your being to use and push yourself off the ground, only to end up on your ass with a humph. You winced as you peeked at your hands, using the flashlight from your bag to examine how badly cut they were. Blood leaked from multiple crevices in your palms, and you didn’t even bother paying much mind to your bruised knee or elbows because there was no time to dawdle.

“Shit. You need to get up now!” You scolded yourself, but as you tried standing up completely, your knees buckled. Well, at least behind this building it was dark enough for no one to see you, unless they heard you already…

Your alert ears picked up the sound of shoes marching upon the solid ground, and you cursed to yourself; someone was coming, but there was nothing you could do because they had already heard you most likely. “Just play dead, or pretend you passed out!” 

You heard your name being called out from somewhere behind you.

The pace of your heartbeat quickened drastically, causing your head to spin toward the voice. Well, shit. It was Rick Grimes himself. This time his helmet wasn’t on and he seemed to have abandoned his uniform. He was instead dressed in jeans and that black tee that always hugged his muscles so perfectly–

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice boomed in your ears as he knelt down to your level, and you shivered.

You wheezed and resumed your pursuit of getting your ass off the wretched ground, to which you failed. Rick noticed the cuts and bruises decorating your injured body and his face softened. He sighed, gathering your belongings, and then in one swift motion he lifted you up off your feet, holding you bridal-style. You bit your lip to stop the tears forming in your eyes; your plan backfired, you got caught, and now everything was out of your control. You felt so stupid and useless.

Rick shifted around with you in his arms, taking one last glance at your injured figure. “Oh, honey. Let’s get ya cleaned up now.”

He had carried you all the way to his room without any hindrances, and the whole time you honestly thought about kicking out of his tight grasp, nailing him where the sun doesn't shine, and booking it out of there. But the way his strong arms cradled you made you melt into him.

Rick lay you onto his large – well, larger than your own – neatly made bed and pulled your shoes and socks off. Before he could reach your pant zipper to pull them down and examine your knee, you slapped his hand away, scowling at him.

“I can do it,” you promised, although of course your trembling hands reaching for the zipper illustrated a paradoxical story.

Not to mention, the stained blood and soreness reminded you that you needed to ease up on any further use of them. It felt like carpal tunnel. Damn, that concrete did some numbers on you. Your exasperated grunts caught Rick’s attention and he ignored your misleading comment, zipping your pants down and peeling them off himself. The look you gave him could have been detected as either annoyed or demoralized. Either way, your body was weary and your mind still raced with unrelenting thoughts. 

Rick brought back a wet cloth and a first aid kit he kept under his sink. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth over your battered hands and then bandaged them up. You let out a few pained huffs while he went to work on your scraped hands and busted knee with his doctor abilities. When finished, his eyes scanned your body, being certain he didn’t miss any other wounds or minor cuts.

You, however, were busy ogling him; his beautifully sculpted figure that was outlined by the black t-shirt he wore, and the scruff that layered his defined jaw, and the way his pink lips pursed as his rough hand prodded your exposed flesh – it sent you into a trance. 

He adjusted his gaze back to your face, and you snapped out of your trance promptly, painting that stern cast back on your expressive face. You recalled why you were irritated with him in the first place – he prevented you from escaping.

“Y’alright now? Gonna tell me why you were scurrying around past midnight with this bag on you?”

Your hard stare didn’t falter. He tsked at you and grabbed the backpack off the ground, unzipping it, and dumping its contents onto the bed. When he recognized the gun to be one from the armory, it was his turn to scowl at you.

“You better start talking before I get angry, sweetheart.” His body flexed as he folded his arms across his chest, eyes cornering you and making you feel small.

“I was–” you cleared your throat and sat up with your hands on your bare thighs, “I was going to escape, Rick. I… I need to see him…”

Rick lowered his head to the floor in disappointment, rubbing the bridge of his nose while his other arm rested on his hip. He paced the room. “You knew this was going to happen. We even planned it together, for fuck’s sake!” You pleaded with him, emotion spilling from your lips. You stared at his back, watching the way his muscles tensed. “I have a child I haven’t seen in years and I–”

“Yeah, so do I!” He interrupted, “But that life is over, there is no more escape plan pipe dream. Don’t you get it?!”

His pacing ceased, and he waited for your focus to meet him. When it did, he inched toward you daringly, almost wanting you to test his patience.

“I got you that ranking because I trusted you and expected you to be cooperative with me in this mission. I was planning on trying to convince Beale to let you visit your boy but that won’t be for a while. I need your trust in this,” Rick’s footsteps approached the bed, his towering figure intimidating you. “Do you understand? Look at me—” his rough hand pinched the sides of your chin to tilt your head up at him. 

Your lips cracked open to speak but truthfully nothing could be said in that moment. The tension in the air was heavy and laced with despondency. You choked trying to enunciate words as you felt your shoulders drop, and your heart chugging on. Soon you gathered yourself from breaking down in front of him, masking the persistent commotion going on inside the walls of your skull, and the unabated sense of dread pouring over your body. You nodded your head in compliance and Rick released your chin.

This was a confirmation that Rick was never going to let you get away. And if he did end up finding a way for you to see your boy, living under an unlawful and controlling military organization was not something you stood for. With or without Rick, you needed to escape with your son, using any proper chance that swung your way. But if it was going to be without Rick, you needed to be secretive. 

You batted your eyes at him, aiming to give him a reason to believe that you were officially yielding to him. The way you looked under him, all battered and desperate, made a spark ignite in his brain. You belonged in this position – underneath him, following his lead, and obeying his orders. He was going to need to show you how insistent he really was.

Your attention remained undivided. Rick stepped backwards a foot and took in the sight of you – your whole body and the way your thighs begged to be kissed and touched.

“I’m assuming you saw the note I left you, right?” His tone dripping with vehemence and his southern drawl rasping, relaying a yearning to your eager core, which you attempted to ease by clenching your thighs. He certainly did not miss that.

“So you were planning on not only ignoring my note, but being reckless and trying to leave this post and then, what? Risk getting caught and dying and never getting to see your son ever? You need to get your head on right, and I’m telling you this from experience, because it’s never going to work out the way you want it to, no matter how perfectly you think your plan will go.”

You gulped and studied your hands, which were thankfully stinging much less. You fiddled with the bandage, until Rick demanded your attention with his authoritative tone.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you to cooperate with me. Keep that in mind,” he warned.

Your front teeth bit into your pouty bottom lip as you struggled to make yourself look uncritical of his “plan.” Rick’s eyes targeted your every move as you, this time successfully, propped yourself up and off the bed, bending down to grab your pants which were sprawled out next to your feet. 

💋

“What were you gonna talk to me about, y’know….if I ended up showing up earlier?” You flipped the pant legs so that they were no longer inside out.

“I was gonna do this—” Your heart quickened as he neared you rapidly, his arms finding themselves exploring your body and causing goosebumps to multiply across your vulnerable skin. He dexterously greeted his lips to yours, catching you by surprise. The man was quick with it. 

You melted into the kiss while his hands continued to trace your curves, eliciting longing whimpers from your throat. You craved his touch.

Breaking away from the kiss, the Sergeant gave you no time to protest, spinning you around so that your back was facing him. Taking your jaw prisoner in the tight clutch of his hand, his hot breath fanned against your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck come alive. “Originally I was going to fuck you gently, make you relax from your big day—” His hand slid to the middle of your back and he forcefully bent you over on the bed, scoring a small grunt from you. He took your pulled back hair into his hand and with a tantalizing tug of it, he pushed his clothed hips against your bare ass. “But now I’m not gonna be so easy on you, because you decided to go and put yourself in danger. Well, I’m gonna have to punish you instead of reporting you, hm? For your own sake…” 

Your heat practically leaked through your panties and down the inner part of your thighs. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved when he was rough with you. It stirred you up with the perfect concoction of salaciousness and angst.

Still, your alacrity temporarily repressed your aroused state and you barked back at him, “All I want is to see my son…you have no goddamn right to take that from me, Rick,” you cried, with your trembling hands supporting your upper body as he gripped your hips.

Rick delivered a firm slap to your ass cheek, then promptly straightened you up and turned you around to meet his sifting stare. You gulped, feeling submissive under his touch. You watched the way he contorted his face in vexation and you abruptly felt overpowered by him.

“In case you’ve forgotten you are under my command, and if you disobey me I have every right to correct you where I see fit,” he eyed your pout, huffing, “and I fucking told you already – you have to be patient, it’s gonna take a while.”

The hope you had was dwindling slowly, even though you really wanted to trust him. It almost felt like putting your full trust in him was equivalent to playing with fire. You couldn’t tell the difference between the two anymore. But ultimately Rick was right, you were under his command and the very least you could do at this moment was take his word.

His leer intensified. “Get on your knees.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the command jolt through your body with a cogent nudge. You conformed to his request and scrunched your face in slight discomfort from your bruised knee making contact with the floor, but it was still tolerable. With urgency he unbuckled his belt and wasted no time in freeing his thick, throbbing length. The sight of his cock was not something foreign, as you’d slept with him many times; but the way he was so much more ambitious in getting his cock inside your mouth and feeling you gag around him, made you squirm.

The restless man bucked his hips forward, enjoying the way your soft pouty lips hugged his shaft so magnificently. You moaned softly, the vibration inciting a groan from Rick as he grabbed at your hair. “Gotta do more than tha’. I know you know how to be a good slut f’me.”

You took his whole length in your throat, feeling spit drip down your chin as you choked. You started to bob your head back and forth, becoming accustomed to the size of his dick and how it collided with the back of your throat incessantly. He took it upon himself to grasp your head and guide you up and down as his hips pushed against your needy mouth. Your tongue traced the veins that protruded across his length, as your head quickened its pace. His grunts echoed in your ears and you prepared for his sweet release when you apperceived the twitch of his cock against your tongue. 

“Fuck, yes…good slut,” Rick sung out as he thrusted thrice more, shooting his thick warm seed down your throat and riding out the remainder of his orgasm. He pulled out and stared intently at your lips licking up the remnants of his juices while panting. His hand patted your head in approval.

“You think you deserve to cum tonight?” He taunted, his hold on your hair taut.

You didn’t respond, but instead observed the way his muscles flexed when he lifted his shirt off his back, and how he flattened his hair back with the palm of his hand. You were getting wetter by the second, shifting your thighs in anticipation.

You stood up, tracing your hand over his bicep and fluttering your lashes at him enticingly. He smirked, recognizing that look to be your calling for him to fuck your brains out. Your hands reached down to lift your own shirt off, but he swatted them away in protest, throwing the shirt across the room hastily. All you desired was for him to make love to you, to comfort you and promise you that everything was going to work out, and frankly your sore muscles from training could use as much appreciation as they could obtain. But love-making wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

Rick flopped you onto the bed, and effortlessly your panties were torn off and thrown next to your shirt. He kneaded your tits with his hand then bent over top of you to hungrily kiss your lips. Your fidgety hands stretched up to tussle through his hair but he broke from the kiss to pin both your hands above your head, rousing a dissatisfied whimper from you. The carnal man bent down diligently to grab his belt and release your hands for a moment, before grabbing your wrists and securing the belt around them.

Bondage wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar to you but you had never expected Rick to ever want to partake in it with you. Nonetheless, your core ached further for his touch. His hand went back to pinching your sensitive nipples, while keeping his ferocious eyes locked onto yours, and lowering his head down to your throbbing heat. The lewd mewls escaping your parted lips sent Rick into a frenzy. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get him to do something, to give your desperate parts the treatment you longed for, except he just remained concentrated on the way you jerked and crumbled beneath him – he wasn’t even touching you anymore, and yet he had you folding already. How pathetic you looked.

“Rick, please do something!” Your pleas left him unphased. The only thought in his mind at that moment was how rough he was eventually going to fuck you. 

Finally, his finger swiped up your soaking folds and came into contact with your swollen clit, giving it a soft pinch, stimulating a ribald whimper from you and inducing your back to arch off the bed. “What d’you want, sweetheart?” His husky tone intimidated you.

“Need you, please. ‘M lonely,” You sniffed, overworked from all the teasing. He cooed in a mocking manner, and with two fingers he plunged into you, sending you into the clouds. 

“This sweet pussy needs attention, dun’it?” He curled his fingers upward, activating that sweet spot inside your squelching sex. With his thumb he circled around your sensitive bud, accelerating the speed of his thick fingers inside your tight, wet hole. Bliss clouded over you, and your head lulled to the side.

Rick hissed, dissenting your lack of eye contact. He yanked his fingers out all the way, giving a slight tap to your voracious cunt.

“Nuh-uh, eyes on me.” The glazed-over look you gave him was enough for him to give in and slide his digits back into your heat, this time being merciless by the way he finger fucked you with racking momentum. 

Your walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, legs syncing with the rhythm of your swirling hips. Rick sensed your orgasm approaching – he ascertained that you didn't get to reach its peak by ceasing his thumb's labor and plucking his drenched digits out of your weeping center.

Your sensual clamors didn't go unnoticed; instead he hushed you, and bringing his mouth near your ear he rasped, "I decided that you don't get to cum yet. Not till I feel like it."

Rick really loved tossing you around, especially tonight. He arose, untying the belt around your wrists – almost as if he was showing mercy, but that thought was surpassed as he effortlessly flipped you around so your bandaged hands were gripping desperately onto the sheets, as if that'd prevent you from losing your grip on reality from what was about to go down.

Your begging hole cried for his further attention, causing you to become more agitated by the second. That is, until you felt his hard cock slap against your ass cheek, and his hips striking the back of your shaking thighs. The grumpy commander pressed his leather-sling gloved fist slightly against your upper neck, just enough pressure to ensure you stayed where he wanted you. You didn't plan on leaving, though – not until he fucked you to your heart's content.

He could take a picture right now, the way your ass pushed against his solid member so hysterically, as if your pussy lived to be stuffed by his cock. In that moment, it did. Rick grabbed his cock and lined it up with your welcoming entrance, collecting the condensation on his tip.

"God, just fuck me–"

One rigid thrust was all it took for you to fully engulf him. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling, stars eclipsing your vision while his thrust followed another one, this time much deeper.

Your whines bounced off the pale room's walls, alerting Rick, who hushed you with a growl, "Shutch'er mouth, the whole building's gonna hear ya."

A third thrust ensued, with the sound of his pelvic bone smacking against your backside and the echoing of your sodden cunt being governed by his greedy shaft. The wet squishy insides of your walls hugged Rick so magnetically, he almost gave in right there.

His pace picked up with each ram of his hips, and his assault to your clit. Your grip on the sheets tightened, bandages likely slipping off but that wasn't a concern. Shy whimpers were trapped inside your mouth as you gave it your all at keeping your lewd blubbers and cusses at bay. Your soft, muffled cries continued as he pounded into you strenuously and tirelessly.

"You're not gonna try to leave again, not ever." The thumping of his hips on your ass and him fucking you into the mattress was all too much for your brain. "I won't fucking let you."

You felt fuzzy. The dauntless rebel attitude you once had vanished, and now your were a blubbering hot mess under a relentless leader. His bulging biceps flexed as his leather arm continued pushing on your neck, the other hand groping your hip and then going back to flicking your clit as his cock rutted into your core. He fit you like a puzzle piece.

Your walls were pulsating and you sensed your climax approaching quickly. "Oh, fuck, Rick!"

"Don't you even think about it. So help me god, if you do..."

Rick's demands only filled you closer to the brim with pleasure, and you weren't assured how much longer you could hold it. His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, indicating that he was probably close too.

"Mmmph–" You focused on grasping desperately at the sheets again, trying to fixate on the way the soft fabric felt against your hands and your face which was pushed into the bed.

Rick groaned out, whispering filthy affirmations as his pounding became more jagged and his grunts more urgent. "Wanna fill ya up, but you don'need another baby, not yet."

One last press against your clit and the band finally snapped, your juices releasing all over his cock, and his orgasm causing him to grasp your hips roughly as he used your dripping hole to help him ride out his own orgasm. He pulled out, releasing onto your back with a few strokes of his slippery member.

The bottom half of your body gave in finally, collapsing and being suffocated by the plush mattress. Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. He truly fucked the energy out of you.

"You gonna try that shit again with me?"

With half-lidded eyes you simpered and muttered, "Not without you."

[sculptural-renaissance]

SGU Week Day 2 (I promise I can count; I'm just behind!!): Favorite Character

Leave it to me to get fixated on a character who only shows up in 4 episodes of a show that got cancelled 12 years ago. 😫 I thoroughly enjoyed SGU from its inception, but Amanda Perry is what took the show from something I really enjoyed to my current hyperfixation (yes, it's her fault I'm here, this fictional lady). She lives rent-free in my head. 💖

(Also fair warning this is gonna be long as hell)

I'm aware that her primary function is that of "love interest," but her character resonated with me on a much deeper level. Maybe I didn't travel a billion light-years to be with the person I love, but I did move 1,000 miles away from everything I knew to make a life with the man who became my husband. I know what it's like to feel rejected because the person you love shows their love differently (though I've been married for almost 6 years now after 3.5 years of long-distance, and then a lengthy engagement, so I know from experience that loving differently doesn't mean loving less). I know what it's like to feel like I'm not valued as a person, though in my case, I was mistreated because I'm autistic as opposed to being paralyzed, and I was regularly used and taken advantage of for my musical abilities, with little respect for my health or needs. I wasn't a person, I was a thing. I've been targeted by people I couldn't fight back against, even for things I didn't do. I know what it's like to be left behind for a lot of social milestones (driving, dating, etc.) I know what it's like to finally find that one safe person who sees you for you.

Amanda is relatable as hell to me. I do want to focus on her specifically in this post, though obviously her romantic endeavors are a factor. Tbh one of the main reasons I like her so much is, in addition to all the other stuff I just mentioned, is that she was the one to initiate things with Rush. I have little dating experience, myself, but I was the instigator in most of my relationships, especially with my husband. Gotta love those ladies who are active instead of waiting around for a guy to make up his mind!

Anyway, I make a lot of SGU memes and dumb lil comics that I share on Facebook, and a decent chunk of them are about Amanda (she even has her own multi-episode arc!!), so I'll share some of them here. I guess if people like them, I can put them on tumblr. I'll add that the vast majority of my content takes place post-stasis, so this Amanda inhabits her own meat body, cloned from DNA the SGC had on file, and is not a computer ghost or a body-swapper with questionable ethics. 😂

I have generated A LOT of memes lmao

Well that didn't turn out to be a metaphor for anything... 😏 I didn't catch this the first time, but I ugly-laughed on my second watch-through.

When the lockdowns were first imposed in my town, I had no idea what that meant, and I was literally about to get in my car and commit a crime because I thought my husband was going to be trapped at work for 2 weeks. Obviously, that wasn't the case, but I felt this scene.

Since my brain has chosen to attach itself to a character with minimal backstory, I'm obligated to fill in the blanks. One thing I find disappointing in media is that even the nerdy women tend not to have nerdy interests, which absolutely is not what I've experienced in real life. My thought is that Amanda was already something of a prodigy ("Little Miss Brilliant" probably isn't a nickname you get for being a regular genius lmao) before her accident, probably skipped a grade or two in school, private tutors in math and science, that kind of thing, and was later homeschooled before starting college as a teen. She was probably pretty lonely because of that. I'm not quite a "genius" (I have a Master's in music and an Etsy shop, and I uhhhhh make memes about an old TV show for fun), but I am a former gifted kid. Even though I took gifted classes from 4th-12th grade (academics, not that pull-out enrichment crap), I felt very lonely even among my gifted classmates, and I struggled with making friends throughout school because I was just too different. I was weird. I liked weird stuff. The girls were mean. The boys that were my friends didn't like the girly stuff I enjoyed, so I had to lock that part of myself away to fit in. The kids a grade ahead of me obviously left, and the kids a grade below me didn't want to keep in touch when I moved on to high school or college. It was lonely. I see similar things in Amanda's brief appearances. She's on the Destiny for 3 weeks, and she pretty much just sticks to Rush because he's "safe." She tries to be friendly with Eli, but he ends up making fun of her, and he's not very nice to her later on, either (sometimes for good reason; she's my fave but she's no saint). TJ isn't exactly in a position to be socializing during a complicated surgery, so she gets a pass. 😉

This was rambly, but my point is that a lot of lonely nerds are drawn to sci-fi, even the girls. I know for a fact that I'm projecting, but come on, she designs hyperdrives. You really gonna sit there and tell me she never watched Star Trek? 😂

As a side note (oh boy even more rambling), in my fan content, she and Eli have a very sweet friendship based on their shared nerd interests. I really don't think they'd get along in canon as things were left.

Speaking of sci-fi, I like to think that, after getting recruited for the Stargate program, Amanda watched all of Wormhole X-treme to prepare herself. I also like to think that no one else on Destiny's crew has seen it except Eli, who saw a handful of episodes randomly. I just really need him to see a stargate for the first time and be all like WOW JUST LIKE WORMHOLE X-TREME 😂 These are two separate excerpts, one mentioning the show and tying it back to actual events in SG-1, and the other showing a snippet of an episode. Replicators are kinda like Legos, so of course the humanoid Wormhole X-treme versions would be Lego people (I'm not creative, I'm just silly).

Going back to feeling lonely, I do think Amanda would be pretty imaginative, even if she's kinda one-note. In a fic I'm working on, she confesses that all of her fantasies involve Rush and having working legs (disclaimer that there's obviously nothing wrong with using a wheelchair and that disabled people can and do have fulfilling romantic relationships and sex lives, but it seems clear in the show that she would like to be able to walk again, so I have stuck to that for this particular story), and the narrative quality of her fantasies is very much on par with dollar store romance novels. She reminds me a little of Tina from Bob's Burgers and her "erotic friendfiction," so I made a few crossover memes. That's Tina's copy of "Buttloose" in the 4th panel. Panel 3 is also a borrowed quote from Tina. I do think Amanda might struggle with tidiness since she spent a good 25 years not being able to pick up after herself at all. I also struggle with this due to executive dysfunction and growing up in a borderline hoarder environment, so I guess I'm projecting again RIP 😅

No, really, Camile, what do you mean????

I guess in Amanda's defense, she doesn't find Rush off-putting in any way since he's not unnecessarily mean to her. 😂

I'm not sure if I'll ever complete my fic, but one thing I'm exploring, both there and, to a less complicated degree, in my memes, is Amanda's use of the neural link while she's a computer ghost. In Seizure, she seemed to use it with ease (apart from that one colossal fuckup lmaooooo), and I'd really like to see what she could do with it after her file is no longer quarantined. I've done a lot of cringe rambling and infodumping (congrats to anyone who's actually made it this far), so I won't go into detail, but she does work on expanding use of the link so she and Ginn can use it at the same time and connect to multiple people so they can socialize and function more as crew members instead of something like a guardian angel or familiar spirit. I'd also like, as mentioned in a previous post for this event, if she could help Lisa "see" again via the neural link. Another possibility, as alluded to in the above photo, is making "holograms," which aren't really holograms, but are more like skins for the ship's AI. What's cooler, accessing a medical database in the infirmary, or asking the EMH from Voyager to give you the info you need? If you're a loser like me, it's absolutely the second one.

More backstory!! My hc is that Amanda's parents were killed in the accident that paralyzed her (on the way to some math tournament with the high school mathletes or something idk I'm a musician I don't know what STEM people do for fun), and she was raised by her grandparents. We all love to make our faves suffer, and I'm no exception. This is just a silly little comic, but there is a certain sadness of being intellectually advanced but emotionally immature, something common among gifted kids and neurodivergent people (and I'm both, wheeeee). Things are thankfully getting better now. I love seeing more acceptance. But it was difficult in the early 00s when I was a teen, and I'm sure it would have been harder for Amanda in the '80s and '90s. It's also difficult when you have to rely on someone else for transportation, but they are unwilling to take you places (I went nowhere in college except school and church and my parents were still always mad at me, which is weird of them because they actively discouraged me from driving and would not teach me or help me get over my fears, so uhhhh yeah).

Last one~

So yes, I'm definitely salty that my top 2 SGU ladies got fridged twice (Ginn's my second fave because of course she is). I do think it opened up a lot of interesting possibilities for both characters, but as the show was tragically cut short, we have to rely on fan content. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make here is that Amanda and Ginn would have been fine had Amanda simply studied Bobby Hill's Guide to Self-Defense. Yes, it's bad, but I am a bad person and I generate irreverent things.

If you made it this far, then congratulations, you're an obsessed weirdo like me!! I know Amanda isn't exactly popular, nor is SGU, especially not so long after the fact, so I don't really expect anyone to read all this. If you do, I hope I was able to convey why she is so special to me. If nothing else, I hope you enjoyed the memes.

Also this took me like 5 hours to write, Jesus Christ I need to sleep

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

Hi, it’s me again! Okay, so I fit End Game into my evening because I just had to watch them back to back. 😁 

Ohhh—him hollering over the edge of the bridge and Scully’s face as she begins to realize who the woman was. 😫

And M is just in tears. *cries* I mean, I’d feel beyond awful if I had to tell my parents about my sibling, so this whole part is just heartbreaking.

Ugh. This is so sad. “We manipulated you.” He’s got this huge heart that he wears on his sleeve, and they just took it and twisted it inside out for their own ends.

The sad part is if they’d told him straight up front that they were alien/clones/visitors/whatever they are, he’d probably have moved heaven and earth to save them anyway. They didn’t need to shove his heart through a strainer and hurt his mother (still not sure how much his dad knew).

Yassss, Skinner! Go get ‘im! (Also, who in their right mind would elect a senator who’d “killed men for far less”? Never mind—I don’t want to know.) (Wait—maybe he’s not a senator; the IMDb page calls him “Mr. X.” Not sure why I thought he was a senator.)

Anyway—ouch. All the feels. And the part at the end where S herself admits it may be due to paranormal phenomena? I loved that, because the viewer mostly hears Mulder’s agenda and explanations, but this is her chance to share how her scientific worldview meshes with his, and I find that invaluable. Because she’s right, you know? The truth is out there, but not all of it is otherworldly or supernatural—there is scientific truth as well, and that’s what she sees.

Anyway, was it this episode you said you and @fortes-fortuna-iogurtum had a spin-off au or meta or something for? I can’t remember.

aghhh yeah all the feels in End Game honestly. Mulder losing his sister, AGAIN, and then telling Scully that he didn't tell her who she was because if he had, she wouldn't have let him make the trade... Scully realizing maybe for the first time how highly he values her....

Mulder has been manipulated for so long and I think one of the things that really makes him open up to Scully is her pure, complete honesty with him. she may have been sent down to spy on him, technically, but she never once lies to him — she takes the assignment Blevins gave her and twists it, because she knows she was sent to discredit Mulder but she REFUSES to lie or manipulate as a means to an end. Mulder wears his heart on his sleeve, like you said, and over and over that's used against him, and it never stops hurting.

Mr. X is an enigma and I have nothing to say about him except that there's one scene (idk if it's in an ep you've seen yet, though) that gave me some interesting meta about Scully, actually.

YES that last bit about Scully! she's skeptical and views things through a much more staunchly scientific lense, but at the end of the day what she wants more than anything is the truth, and if that truth is as Mulder believes it is, then she can meet him in the middle with it. that's what I love about her character and their relationship — they're not against each other (except for on certain occasions that are the exception to the rule) even though they seem like they could or even *should* be. they work together even though they disagree, and like you said, they actually mesh so well despite their differing beliefs!

@fortes-fortuna-iogurtum's and my AU diverges from canon during Ascension, actually!! I can go dig up my previous post about it for you when I get the chance! :D

[pattytacuri]

7/15/22

I took this hike on 7/17/21, it was rough. I walked over 8 miles with one of my good friends. It was 3 days after the "great breakup of 2021" 🤣🤣 omg but I don't know how to refer it as. I remember that after I cried a lot when i got to my friend's house.

Anyways, the past couple of days -present have been filled with a lot of happiness. I'm like "is this a manic episode? Wtf? " well, I woke up in a bad mood yesterday and accidentally took 2 seroquel instead of my anxiety meds but even today I was really good. I even had anxiety about a work thing but I was ok after. So just to humble myself, I read what I wrote in my journal a year ago and damn...I cried over the woman I was. I didn't cry over the breakup , I cried over the woman who hated herself and had this incredible amount of self loathing and wanted to die, she fantasized about taking the sleeping pills in her little box in her room just to make the pain go away. I was like this for 2 weeks but I had enough sense to make sure I was around friends and my kids and I kept going to work and therapy. I was also really honest with my therapist throughout the whole ordeal. I don't blame anyone except my brain chemistry and lack of coping skills with my BPD. It sucked. But while going through that and after, I found angry energy and creativity and purpose. And I was like fuck it, I'm going to be myself unfiltered. And I started posting here and blogging and writing. I also started walking and running on the regular. A year later, I feel like a different woman. I think I've been going through this transformation since 2017 but it's been slow growth and well in 2021, I had a few medication changes, a move, a new mental health diagnosis and a breakup within a 6 month period. That's a lot for one person to process, nevermind someone who's got BPD, depression, 2 jobs, etc etc, 🤣🤣🤣. Maybe God or fate was like, "you need a true awakening in order to have real growth and get to the best version of healthy" and all this was it.

While I did cry over my past journal entries from last year, I felt joy afterwards. I know that sounds weird but I realized how far I have come and how back then it was hard for me to find purpose and intent. I had no sense of direction or where I was going or sense of self love or worth. Now I have all those things and allow myself to get so excited about little things and what's to come in my life. I still have my low days but I deal so much better. So I went for a happy walk/ run after 🤣 and made my 2 oldest sons watch the new Sabrina Carpenter video. And while outwardly it looks to other people like I haven't made much progress, I'm still working at the same job , still living with my roommate/ co parent, I feel like a completely different person. My relationships with everyone in my life are so much better, I'm so much healthier continuing my exercise routine, I'm so much happier and I'm not afraid to be myself. Like I went for a drive a few mornings ago to put me in a better mood and I look forward to swimming lessons. Who the fuck am I ? Crazy 🤪 😜 🤣 but like like the great Melanie Martinez said "the best people are" 😅😅😅.

While I'm still sad for this woman who was dying inside and put on a pretty dress and make up to mask her pain or the woman who hiked more than 8 miles a few days after

I'm so excited that after a year I'm this woman and I'm excited about what is next for her. My coworker took this pic and kept telling me how pretty and cute I looked, and normally I'd laugh it off but today with confidence I was like "well yes I am" and really believe it. She got the picture while I was laughing 🤣😅 . So a year later, this was what it was all for. My hard work, tears, therapy, so much writing ( who the fuck writes 130 poems in a month? ), exercise and so much fucking shadow work 😑 😒 😫. It was worth it. I'm not healed but better, much better. It was like going from CUTE without the E by taking back sunday to First Class by Jack Harlow. Now I understand I'll still have low days and that's okay but today I feel on top of my world. Also, God bless you if you read all of that!

If I could survive this hike yesterday, you can survive this hike and thrive.