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llatimeria · 9 months

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Just finished The Santaroga Barrier by Frank Herbert (my dad likes to play audiobooks in the car on trips) and I didn't like it much (and there's quite a bit of Yikes in it, because frank herbert and the 1960s in general,) but the aspect I found most interesting was the concept of like. A world's subconscious desire to kill The Other.

In the book an investigator visits a small cultish town in order to investigate it for a market study after a few other researchers mysteriously died. he gets into a frightening number of "accidents" while he's there (like the former investigators) and starts believing that there was a conspiracy among the townsfolk and all of them were intentionally trying to murder him.

tl;dr, it turns out it actually was a subconscious yet intense phobia/hatred they had of The Outside they had as part of their personal traumas, childhood indoctrination into their local cult, and the LSD-like drug they were constantly on. They didn't mean the investigator any harm, if anything they were extremely welcoming, kind, well-meaning people, but this background radiation of fear and rage kept making them accidentally do things to kill him - mixing up insecticide and spices in his food, gas fumes being pumped in his hotel room after a botched maintenance job, a torn carpet tripping him off the railing of the balcony, and Many Other subtle attempts on his life that he just happened to avoid by sheer chance.

But all the townsfolk don't really think anything of it - the town doctor, especially skeptical, "diagnoses" him as "accident-prone" until the investigator begs and pleads with him for days after several brutal accidents in a row, and only then does the doctor start believing him but even then only comes up with the theory that all of this supposed malice towards the investigator is "subconscious" - later shown to likely be correct when the investigator himself, after overdosing on their special drug, "accidentally" shoves his colleague off a roof, killing him, but the investigator physically cannot see it as anything but an accident anymore. it simply doesn't reach his mind that he killed a former friend of his. it was just an accident. he just fell, all on his own.

the idea of A Town That Wants To Kill You, But It's Nothing Personal resonated with me from the perspective of being a disabled person, especially one in a generally welcoming, accepting environment. when you're disabled, not a lot of people will come to you bearing their ableism between their teeth. They'll be nice, insensitive maybe, but nice, and are often outwardly willing to accomodate you. But they also stick out their leg as you're walking along to trip you. They'll apologize, and you'll maybe even believe it, even though to you, from your perspective, it was obviously an attempt to harm you. You excuse it once, maybe twice, but after a point, you realize that this world, this community you have entered, is actively hostile towards you and everyone like you. so you start screaming it to the rooftops. you tell authorities that the world wants to hurt you, but they begin affixing labels to you like "paranoid" or "anxious". they know no one actually has it out for you, personally, after all. that would be ridiculous.

but you still keep getting tripped down the stairs. the rat poison and the sugar at your favorite coffee shop still keep getting mixed up, but only when it's your order. in the hospital, recovering from your previous "accidents", a nurse will still accidentally pump you full of saline instead of medicine.

after a point, doesn't the fact that all of these are "accidents", and that no one WANTS to kill you, just... stop mattering a little bit? Yeah, no one wants to hurt you, but they just keep doing it. They keep making stupid little mistakes. They know everyone like you who has visited their community has died or been seriously injured under suspicious circumstances, but the idea that they, themselves, could be a little bit at fault just doesn't even register to them. they don't even consider that they might have to change their ways in order to protect people like you. After all, you can't prepare for every "freak accident". Even when the solution could be as simple as "stop putting rat poison next to the sugar", every time it happens to you, or a person like you, it's just an "accident", that no one "meant" any harm, and "nothing could be done".

it doesn't cross their mind that a string of unfortunate accidents ceases to be accidents, but serious negligence. it can't cross their mind, because they're not the victims here. they only even begin to acknowledge something might be wrong when the victims are screaming in their face, day after day. even then, they come to the conclusion that even if you're right, and the community does want to kill you because you are Other, they won't immediately see anything wrong with that. To Them, the answer is clear as day: just become one of Them, and you'll be safe. They take care of their own.

#this isn't even really what the santaroga barrier is even about i just found this to be a useful structure for talking about disability #It's not... NOT what it's about??#it's definitely got themes of Otherness #but it's more about like.#My dad put it as 'how much of your individuality would you give up to live in paradise'#which is also interesting to think about but . imo if i have to give up parts of myself it would no longer be paradise #But also a lot of what the cult-town tries to get you to 'give up' is. like. Believing in capitalism #And to me it definitely feels like Herbert was on the santarogan's side with that part at least but it's still interesting that that's like #it's still interesting that That of all things is what you have to give up in order to Become Santarogan.#Like. Personally i'd have to change very little to become a santarogan. the trade off for me is not that huge #which makes the protagonist actually seem a little unhinged and unnecessarily hostile #Does daesin just want to believe in capitalism That Badly even when he doesn't understand that that's what this is about #Is it like the scene from They Live where the protagonist tries to get his friend to wear the Anticapitalism Sunglasses but the friend #just refuses point blank even though he has no reason to?#idk. it's definitely an interesting premise. but the racisms. and the misogynies. it's really hard to look past that #especially the part where one black character describes himself like #'before [santaroga] i was an ignorant [n slur hard r]. now i am an educated n-gro“#which was just. holy fucking shit. that is unspeakably awful. shut the fuck up frank #Also a part where a woman disrobes herself to prove herself to be no harm to the investigator [her fiancee]#and he says something like. 'you're so beautiful i just might rape you' and shes just like teehee thats sweet :)#Which. Bad. Very nasty. Don't say that.#And the general concept of potentially using that woman to lure the investigator into the cult. it's unclear how much of that was #on purpose on the part of santarogans but it does have this slimy Women Are Evil Temptresses That Trap Men In Bad Situations miasma to it #anyways. sorry for blabbing on and on about a 50 year old book by the same guy who wrote dune which is clearly an unquestionable masterpiece #/s.#I just had no choice in listening to this story while sitting in the back of a car on Very Empty Montana And Wyoming Highways #so I might as well rotate it just a little I guess. nothing better to do

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clenastia · 2 months

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my least fucking favorite thing is absolutely rank smelling people sitting at the table next to mine in a cafe.

in this case a fucking smoker.

like i understand as someone extremely prone to scent-based sensory overload (can't focus, building nausea, if i dont get away from the smell soon enough migraines) that like. it's a part of life. You can't reasonably avoid ALL strong smells, nor can you be reasonably accommodated for that.

Especially when it's not just bad smells like sweat and cigarettes but even 'good' smells like perfume and cologne or even like. febreeze shit. If the smell is strong it WILL fuck me up and expecting the whole world to cater to that... disability? of mine? like using disability feels wrong but also i literally get migraines so maybe that's just my anxiety of being perceived as In The Wrong acting up but like.

Logically the whole world can't cater to that for me.

But also. Please. There are open tables elsewhere. Please. Sit fucking anywhere else. I can't handle this.

I'd move myself but there is only one table in this entire cafe that has an electric socket and my computer dies if I don't keep it plugged in so I don't have any other options unless I go to a different cafe.... :(

#the worst is that i can't even carry around a perfume or anything to cover these up. cause any perfume light enough that i can 'handle' it #isnt going to be strong enough to cover up the absolute fucking STENCH of whoever the fuck is sitting behind me #i know that stinky people can't stop existing. and that people will NEVER stop wearing perfumes.#but if both of those could become true.#i'd really be living in paradise :(#the best i can do if i don't want to give up and go home #is hope that they move away before i hit migraine territory #i cant focus well enough to write. but if its just nausea but not migraines i can at least write LATER once they're gone #but a migraine will mean immediately going home #if there were any other cafes that had more than one drink i like on their menu i WOULD just leave #but starbucks and beans n brews i only really like their hot chocolates. and you can only have so many cups of that before you scream #most boba places dont seem to like you hanging out for hours at least in my experience #this place at least has a wide variety of drinks an electric socket AND ive been a regular for almost 10 years so they dont mind long stays #which make moments like now all the more awful fuck please random stranger i have too much social anxiety and fear of being #seen as Rude (tm) to ask you to move #but please detect my vibes and go the fuck away

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months

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Titus [Space Emperor Yan] and former Assassin Cat-Hybrid Darling. (Just a blurbo for now but I love these two now so I'd love to come back to this)

When the pair met, Darling thought Titus was no different from the rest of their targets. A self proclaimed god untouchable by those below him. Little did they know that their employers were basically setting them up on a suicide mention as the tyrant is a damn near immortal deity. As they perch atop his bed - knife planted in his chest, Darling counts their cards as a large hand locks around their wrist; pulling the blade out as one night remove a splinter. There was nowhere for them to run. The element of surprise had been swept from under their feet. They struggle and claw at the man, but there is no give to his iron grasp. As their brain draws to any conclusion a trapped animal may have, the knife in their hands is tossed across the room before they can take the final plunge.

The Emperor should have his little intruder punished. Waking a kind from his beauty rest is a serious offense. A crime in which the accused receives no trial and punished to the highest degree. Their eyelids removed so they never experience another second of slumber before their execution. There is also the more "amusing" route of electrocution or burning everytime they attempt to shut their eyes. Darling surely would have been subjected to this fate if they weren't so... So...

Precious~

Did this adorable little feline really think they could kill a god so easily? They insult him, but fortunately for them, they're cute enough for him to let it slide. The poor thing could use a bath though... And those scars.... When was the last time they had a proper meal? Oh, and those rags!

Titus scoops up the feisty kitty and thrusts them into the hands of his guards while he sorts through his closet for something to throw on until he can get them measured. Darling attempts to flee any chance they are alone, but with Titus promising to have the heads of everyone in the palace if they escaped - they never got far. Once they had some food in them and fully realized Titus wasn't bluffing when he called his home their new place of resident - Darling came up with a plan to lure Titus into false security and learn his witness to take him down when he least expected it. The only flaw in their plan was they underestimate their own commitment to the role as day by day their acceptance of the tyrant's obsession became less of an act.

They no longer had to work for their meals. Everything they could ever deserve was thrust placed right in their hands if they snuggled up to their new master or swished their tail just right in Union with those big adorable eyes. Their word stood above all in his counsel. They were waited on hand and foot by everyone under Titus' rulevIt was paradise. Their former comrades and the person they once were would be disgusted by what they've become, but if the former ever came to drag them back to their old ways they were swiftly cut down without so much as a passing glance from the royal that once stood beside them.

Titus is ever so glad he managed to bag that angry stray and turn them into the sweetest lil dear anyone has ever seen. He nearly loses his composure everytime he catches them lazying around in his robes - cloth barely clinging to their smaller figure. He knows they only do it to make sure he never says no to him, but there's hardly anything he would deny them beside their freedom. Whatever their heart longs for is a small prize to pay for their company. The Emperor is absolutely whipped for his little bedmate and would do anything to keep them collared at his side.

Assassin: You used to be something.... You could have lived a life similar to this without sacrificing your freedom if you had just taken his head. You are but a shell of the person I once knew. I despise you.

Cat Hybrid Reader: Hm... What you say might be true, but there's still something this life grants me that makes it all worth it

[Reader tears their shirt and knees on the floor closer to the cell as they shout]

Cat Hybrid Reader: Titus! Help!

Titus, storming down the dungeon stairwell: Oh, my precious angel. [Picks up Reader and checks them over for injuries] Don't worry, my love. I will have these awful, awful person executed at once. I'll have a necklace made from their ashes, but for now - will a massage and treats make do for leaving you all alone?

Cat Hybrid Reader, wiping fake tears from their eyes: yes....

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #male yandere #Titus my oc #tw yandere #yandere alien #yandere exophilia

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azure-cherie · 5 months

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𝐏𝐀𝐂 : 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅.𝐒.

Hello love's for this reading i channel a love letter from your future spouse , i really have a lack of fs readings and ik I don't do that enough but here's it because I feel so called to do this todayyy. Take what resonates and leave the rest , you can choose multiple . I hope you guys like this and feedbacks are always always appreciated !!!!!

Pile 1 :

Mon Amour ,

The sweet river of my life, the reason I live , the reason I thrive , I've been seeing you in my dreams since past lives and I can't fathom the beauty in your eyes . Ever since we've been together and the day i met you my life has been absolutely the one I dream of . Thank you for always being the shoulder I can learn on thank you i think i don't say it enough, you deserve the world and I'm trying everyday to bring in the world for you . I love the way you make art and love the way you make me your muse if I had the talent you had i probably would sing for you . I love your sweet kisses like candy and i hate every moment i argue so I'm happy to be sorry first kidding I know you're always right kinda bad on my part right , I wanna give you the world and there's so much to be done yet , so much to achieve , so much to heal but i know with you by my side i will heal. So i steal the thunder from heaven to make a souvenir of my love even when i am dead the way i tell you about my love won't be enough.

- yours completely

Pile 2 :

Dear love ,

In my darkest days you're the light I turn to , my heart is so full even when my brain is in shambles because I have you . I'm so in love that I can barely eat so I soak up your sunshine and I'm all fine and better under your holy light . We are a pair and we will make history and all these people that think we're too young too naive will be left in misery, they don't see you like i do, we both see each other . They say love is a big thing but I'd like laundry and taxes with you . Plain bread with you tastes like heaven , even tho I'm a heathen i pray the heavens for you may the paradise we make last forever, may i always keep jewellery in your altar , may things never be forbidden in our diary and in all of the things that are may I know one thing for sure that I don't wanna spend a moment away from you anymore . I burn for you I'm human for you .

- your lover

Pile 3 :

Hey Miss,

Springtime your time my time I look at you my beautiful flower fuller than poppies , more abundant than a lotus , like a burning rose with desire , you set me on fire , yet you cool me like running water how do you do , how do you put me in this state . I wanna love you don't you think it's getting late for even a while to wait , meet me at the garden gate . I don't know much but I know I came into earth to be with you i could be a tree but I'm a human to love you like humans do . How could you know me so well i almost lose myself when I'm with you and that's what I want when I'm with you to be free like a child . I wanna devote all my evenings to make coffee for you and i wanna spend all my breaths being high because I love you so much my thoughts spin out , you're moon herself you grant wishes so please grant mine goddess divine .

- always yours

Pile 4 :

Hey sweetheart,

I've been on a quest to find you , since I was young I've always felt that I was meant for more than just I saw what other couples around me had I knew I needed to be drowned and insane when i like someone , but the way you lift me up gave me all of it together , you're all the bright colours at once , yet you're a mystery , I love that i figure out something beautiful about you each day I know life with you can never be boring, it's always fun always worth living , thank you for holding me when the world discarded me , I know angels are real because i have seen you . Sorry for the times i mess things up , i never want that . we need to be together to explore this world without this bond this earth is mere ground with fire at the core , I wanna love you more . How do I explain this love where do I put all my love for you you're growing into me with each day I place your name in my heart like a sweet melody , i live to love you , I love to love you.

- only yours forever

Thank you so much for reading, have a great day/night ❤️

#god this felt so god #this was the pac i wrote fastest #pac readings #pac tarot #tarot pac #pac reading #pac #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #future spouse pick a card #future spouse reading #future spouse

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gunpowderdtim · 2 months

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It's no wonder Out happened when you really think about it. Nastya doesn't like organic life because it's complicated, it can break, sometimes it's even unfixable.

quote from gender rebels

Nastya is in love with Aurora, and in saying that she is saying "you are not organic life, I can deal with you because you are metal and algorithm and predictable" - we can see this in bedtime story when she says she'll tweak Aurora's story creation algorithm

screenshot from A Bedtime Story

Aurora is not inorganic. She is not ai. She is a space moon made of flesh and blood and teeth and bone. She is not an ai. She is a body that was taken and stripped of autonomy, of the right to self identify, of the right to think- to be imperfect and organic.

The metal is a veneer that hides how messy and traumatized and unfixable she is. From the outside she is a starship. From the inside she can still bleed.

And this makes them fundamentally incompatible. But yet, they are in love.

And really, it's no wonder Nastya fell in love with Aurora. Let's take a look at Nastya's home planet, or at least home society:

"Terminals were scattered across the planet. There was one on every street corner, one beneath every lamppost and one in every commune block." "The midwife-machine performs a series of programmed manœuvres to quieten [the baby]. It cradles it and hums at several pitches until it finds one that seems most soothing. Mechanical arms stroke the baby’s flesh even as others start the process of implanting augmented reality interfaces into its nervous system." "The Czar an atrophied frame, never present in the real world and worn to dust by the chemical compounds that kept his brain alive so it could live forever in a perfect virtual paradise. The Rabotnik a copy, a mind preserved unchanging in the instant before its death and placed in an everlasting metal frame." (Cyberian Demons)

Its safe to say the world Nastya was born into, from the very minute she was born, was ridden with technology. She has augmented reality interfaces inplanted into her from birth. It would stand to reason that being taken from this society, wherein technology is everywhere, inside and out, would stand for a bit of a shock.

Aurora too had been augmented by the Cyberia.

While it is stated that the last time Nastya had used the ports themselves was directly before her death — "The last time she had used the ports, her tutor had ripped them out of her as the rebels stormed the palace" — Aurora is laced with Cyberian technology. I'd imagine she has something of a 'bluetooth wireless connection' with Aurora, rather than the physical data transfer of files between the ports and Nastya, it may as well be similar enough.

Imagine being Nastya, going from Cyberia, wherein there is augmented reality contantly, transplanted onto a ship with metal blood, a jonny, and a vampire. To Aurora, where the only bits of augmented reality run through Aurora.

Of course she'd fall in love with her. Aurora is familiarity. Aurora isn't organic. Aurora isn't human.

And of course when the undeniable part of aurora that is organic, that is a flesh moon plated in metal with her brain hooked to machines, when so much has broken and been replaced, when, presumably, aurora is less of an algorithm, nastya leaves with the brand cyberia left on her.

Because Aurora healing, becoming more of herself and less of a starship, is messy, and organic, and human.

and hard for nastya.

‘Think how long she’s been flying you around. Think how many bullet holes you’ve punched through her and how many atmospheres you’ve dropped her through. Think how many alterations and improvements we’ve made, Tim to her guns and Ashes to her storage and Brian to her engines and the Toy Soldier to who knows what. How much do you think is left of her after all she’s brought you through?’ Nastya held up the ancient, battered piece of hull plating. Just visible under the grime and scars of particles of space junk was a fragment of the Aurora’s original logo and serial number. Jonny honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a version that hadn’t been painted by the Mechanisms themselves. ‘So she’s free, now.’ Nastya gestured around at the spaceship they were standing in. ‘This Aurora can take you where you want to go. I’m going to take my Aurora somewhere else.’

Aurora was ship of theseus'd. Aurora was improved. Aurora was no longer cyberian. (both literally, and metaphorically)

So nastya left.

#is this anything guys #nastya #aurora #nastya rasputina #aurora the mechanisms #the mechanisms

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chilled-ice-cubes · 8 days

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on sunday & the dreammaster // sunday's parallels with aventurine

the dreammaster's relationship with sunday is actually extremely fucked up and uncomfortable when you look at it as a whole:

when the siblings find the charmony dove, he tells robin that her idea of simply building a nest for the dove is "idealistic" and prods at sunday until sunday finally says that he wants the bird to live no matter what, even if it's in a cage.

ages are vague in star rail, but at least from the ~vibes~ sunday gives off (+ robin is referred to as a "young songstress" at one point), i think we can say that sunday was probably pretty young when he was made the bronze melodia. gopher wood is the dreammaster, the leader of penacony—and he's okay with making his orphaned foster son, who was p much already displaying trauma responses as a child (the immediate conclusion that "the dove's parents abandoned it", saying he has no dream and simply following what robin says her dream was) listen to the confessions of the sinners of the dreamscape? sunday being appointed as bronze melodia is the direct triggering event that leads to him losing faith in the harmony.

the dreammaster telling sunday about robin getting shot and almost dying—this is such a strange way to tell your adopted son that his sister was in mortal danger. "perhaps as a reward for her consistent deeds of harmony" its all just rather passive-aggressive and manipulative; definitely aiming to be the nail in the coffin for sunday's faith. if robin, the ideal advocate of xipe, can't be protected while doing charity... then what is the path of harmony even worth?

the most damning part of course is sunday's final conversation with the dreammaster, where the dreammaster references robin, basically sets down an ultimatum for sunday that one of the siblings must follow the path of the order and fulfill the plans they've set in motion till now. by now sunday's relationship with the dreammaster is much colder than it was in the two flashbacks about the bird and robin's gunshot wound—he clearly doesn't fully trust him anymore, but at the same time he has lost all hope and believes only in the path of the order that the dreammaster personally set him on.

the two excerpts below basically summarise sunday for me—"someone has to stay awake in the sweet dream" // "we sleep because we are afraid to awaken from our sweet dreams." firefly admits that sunday is a pessimist who feels deep compassion for all; he creates the sweet dream paradise using the order's power because he genuinely believes it will enable everyone to live their best lives.

the interesting thing is, a rejoinder to sunday's thesis of: "people sleep because they are afraid to wake up from their dreams" was already given in version 2.1, through aventurine's character arc and the conclusion he comes to during his conversation with acheron. i've already talked about sunday and aventurine's surface parallels here, so i'd like to focus specifically on their views about "dreams" in this post.

acheron and aventurine agree that people sleep because they are not ready to welcome death, and are preparing themselves for their inevitable ending—ratio adds that it is impossible to be "dormant" in the dreamscape. this is directly contrary to what sunday wants. sunday rejects that inevitable death, and wants to create a stagnant, safe, paradise in a cage for everyone. a macrocosm of what he wanted to do with the charmony dove as a child all those years ago.

version 2.1 and version 2.2 directly build upon each other, especially through sunday and aventurine's character arcs. you would imagine that aventurine, who has constantly suffered, is terrified of death and not really a big fan of living as his life was atm, would be exactly the sort of "weak" person that sunday wants to build a paradise to protect. but as he goes through his journey in 2.1, we see that he comes to an entirely different conclusion from sunday. he decides to keep moving on, so that he can make his parents proud when he meets them again at the end of his journey. sunday, meanwhile, loses all hope and quite literally falls from grace. still, robin catches her brother at the end; there's still hope for him.

#this is such a long rambly post lmao :/ the yapping never stops here...#anya.txt #honkai star rail #honkai star rail 2.2 spoilers #hsr 2.2 spoilers #sunday hsr #aventurine

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itsgrimeytime · 10 months

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Scratch That Itch || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Available on AO3

Summary: Honestly, you weren't sure how it started. It wasn't a competition, at least you didn't think it was. There'd been something between you and Rick, something that people couldn't quite label. And maybe you batted your eyes the first time, and maybe he smirked the second. Either way, this was getting out of hand.

TWS: suggestive AF, FLIRTY, TENSION, innuendos, pregnancy mention (Maggie is pregnant in this one), violence, blood, mentions of guns, the undead, all things TWD.

[[A/N: Basically a 5 plus one. just wanted to establish how dumb it was that no one absolutely dived for this man. I think he'd be flattered, personally, if you took every chance you could to hit on him. Also FUCK the horror part of this show, Alexandria is paradise and Negan is not allowed. Thanks for your time !!! So, here's what I'd picture would play out. Enjoy!!]]

The first time you remember it happening was just a slip of the tongue. Or that's what you said anyway.

You'd known Rick for a while at that point; the group had picked you up somewhere after the prison falling -you'd been holed up in a shack for probably a year.

And fuck, you knew Rick Grimes was handsome. Everyone under the sun knew that (all broad shoulders and baby blues, his voice-), and you thought you'd gotten a hold of the reigns -at least enough for decency. Sure, you stared at him for way too long a lot of the time, and had been noticed by several people -including Rick. ("You've got something... uh, on your face," you scrambled, and honestly you'd never been more mortified in your life-)

It wasn't the first time it happened, looking back on it, but you couldn't quite picture earlier. He'd been too suave for it to be the first time and maybe he was just that suave, but you kind of hoped it wasn't you that started it. So, you'd live in your delusion.

You were tired, exhausted really. The past few days you couldn't sleep, mostly because you felt unsafe in Alexandria -it was all so new that it gave you a sense of unease. You, naturally, went on every run available to feel that burst of adrenaline that felt so familiar -killing walkers was what you knew.

After Rick caught up with your plans, he'd made you stay. That didn't mean you were sleeping though.

Hence the current you sat at a table in a meeting of such, he'd liked to have these every once in a while -establish the plans and how he was running Alexandria. Rick was nothing if not connected to his people. It was honorable if there was such a thing in the apocalypse.

You think it was Carol, maybe, who'd said it. Referring to the resources, you'd come to learn. Apparently, Rick had been planning too much -maybe they were talking about bullets, food? You really didn't know.

"We can't keep up with you-" she was so earnest, you should've known that it was more of a pressing issue, but instead, your brain running on day (four...?) of no sleep had... other connotations.

"Oh, I'm sure I could."

You thanked whatever god was left above that Carl was out on a run with Glenn that morning. Everyone else? You weren't so lucky.

It wasn't like you could pass it off as not... what it was. Your tone was perfectly readable, slurred actually from sleep which, in retrospect, only added to the... interpretation.

You hadn't even realized you said it, so far off in whatever fuzzy reality you were currently in to notice you'd spoken. Until, Maggie who was somewhere near the back burst into laughter -cutting it short by holding it back, but the break of noise was still there.

There was something that acknowledged the embarrassment, the silence and laughter only registering after a few heavy seconds. To say you were more awake than you had been in weeks was an understatement -your eyes felt pried open with a bundle of nerves sinking deep into your stomach. You might throw up.

Talk about mortifying.

You felt frozen in your seat, hesitating to make even a single move like he couldn't see that your eyes, once heavily lidded, were now open -detailing the woodwork like your life depended on it, but still awake.

And then, after a few agonizing seconds, the voice you had dreaded spoke up. Normally, you wouldn't have noticed. Trying to find an escape route from at least this room, the grand scheme would be leaving Alexandria but that was-

There was a calloused fingertip underneath your chin, guiding you to meet his eyes -amused in a way you hadn't seen before. His mouth had to be maybe an inch from yours -breaths mingling and his lips turning into a smirk, you willed yourself not to look.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, sweetheart."

The silence was even louder after that, nobody making a move like what was happening at this moment like it was a dream. It could definitely be a dream, you thought to yourself -eyes dipping to his lips in a moment of weakness.

Then, Daryl yelled, "Get a room, nobody wants to see 'at."

And Rick had laughed in a sort of crooked way, his smirk seamlessly budding into a grin. Without so much as a blink, he moved his finger and addressed Carol like nothing had happened.

There was something petty in you because you had taken that as a challenge. Well, you would when you could think straight again.

The next time was more casual, more natural. You'd always been attracted to Rick, but since then you felt so open to it like you'd crossed a boundary and he had... well, he had done what he did.

You still couldn't think about it too hard or your brain would turn to sludge.

You had the running theory that if you were fully present in the... flirting game? Was it a game? You didn't feel like it was, but then again, you had gotten competitive of all things.

Didn't matter, your theory was if you were more present, he'd been more affected. It's one thing to have a half-asleep person flirting with you, and another if it's a fully awake person. You were hoping to plan it out, get exactly the right words to say -it was going to be perfectly crafted to get a reaction out of Rick Grimes.

But, it didn't end up that way.

You were folding clothes, which was a bit of hell within itself but you were helping Maggie -she made it much more bearable. Even though just about every few minutes, she'd remind you of your... incident.

It was all in good fun, she was always giggling and teasing in a sister sort of way. You found yourself close to her pretty much as soon as you'd met her -catching her eye lingering on Glenn for a few seconds too long. They were well-established at that point, but you'd found an interest there in the budding... romance.

After she'd lost so much, your connection was nice, fresh, and easy in the apocalypse. It was light and airy when it needed to be, and strongly protective otherwise.

You'd threatened Glenn pretty much immediately after you met him -something about 'you hurt her and I'll grind your bones into paste'. It was in a joking tone, but he took it as you intended. (He'd grinned at you afterward, saying something about you fitting right in. Needless to say, you didn't get the desired effect.)

So, you sat -carefully detailing the piles as you worked through them, Glenn, Maggie, and a tiny pile of onesies. You smiled at it, as it continued to grow, and the conversation was easy to be in -nothing too substantial, just casual topics.

"Saw Glenn the other day," you remarked, remembering the deadly cold stare he'd passed onto some of the Alexandrians -Daryl falling close behind, "-you got lucky, Mags."

Maggie laughed, bright and loud -her face was somehow glowing, you guessed pregnancy would do that to you, "I know, he's... He's amazing."

"Hey, don't start on the ooey-gooey 'I found my soulmate in the apocalypse' shit," you groaned -you loved her, really you did, but with your mortification... you were truly going to die alone.

Maggie huffed, elbowing into your side, "You started it."

"Well, I wanted to talk about-" the door to Maggie and Glenn's swung open, revealing a Rick who'd just got done working -sweat on his brow and dirt on his jeans, "-something... different."

She, on the other hand, was acting completely natural, "We could get into those things if you want, I just figured-"

"Rick, thank god you're here-" you turned to him dramatically -still folding clothes without much extra thought, "-please rescue me from this torture. She's on her Glenn kick-"

He paused before a smooth smile melted upon his lips -you bit back the urge to watch it from there, salt and pepper beard stretched along his mouth, "When is she not on a Glenn kick?"

"You're not helping," you sighed, retorting with a passive playfulness, "-you're supposed to give me an out, you know. Save the day, isn't that what gentlemen do?"

Maggie spoke up, in agreement, "That's what gentlemen do."

Rick was staring at you, eyes flickering along your face and then settling on your hands. You were in your own space, carefully placing each fabric in as nice of a stack as possible -fingers swift and practiced. You could still feel it though.

His eyes heavy on every motion -following you like you were a shooting star in the sky, a sight to be seen. Jaw twitched, licking a line against his teeth, as a grin peeked up then, and you knew you were in for it.

"Well," he sighed, leaning against the doorframe casually as if the words were as true as the sun rising in the morning, "-I can think of a few better things to do wit' your hands."

You startled, the shirt (clearly Glenn's if the bright graphic had anything to say) held up in front of you -tips of your fingers tight on the fabric, almost too tight. Exhaling a breath, as you wordlessly stared at the shirt in front of you, you vowed to yourself you wouldn't freeze again. And somewhere deep in your head, your competitiveness sparked up in a single flame.

With the casual speed of folding the shirt, you wordlessly placed it into Glenn's pile -it was teetering dangerously, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, and stood.

Your steps were slow, deliberate, and despite the flurry of thoughts in your mind, you were clear-headed.

"What," you spoke, it was low and breathy (but there was no need to be loud, he was right in front of you, "-these?"

Rick hadn't spoken, as you wordlessly traced your nails across his arms, not enough to scratch -watching as the goosebumps lay in their wake. His flannel was rolled up to his elbows, and the skin there was golden from the sun -muscle underneath your fingertips, detailed and extensive.

His breath hitched, and you grinned, biting it back at the success on your side -a familiar buzz tossing your stomach in a pleasant sort of way. It spurred you on further.

"What did you have in mind, Grimes?" you were a breath away now, breath mingling and your fingers still absently tracing his skin -eyes intently locked on his.

Rick's face was still, except for the tiniest twitch of his nose -eyes clouded with something you hadn't quite grasped. It was intense and heavy, left a sort of burning on your skin -you felt a sort of flush there, but ignored it in favor of-

His eyes flicked to your lips, it was a languid gaze like he was watching the puffs of breaths. He was certainly not ashamed, eyes focused and for a second, you truly thought... maybe this wasn't a game. Maybe he would break then, and kiss you with a fever that you'd felt in the air. His own hands-

"Ahem," Maggie cleared her throat, "-as much as I enjoy this, really I do. I've got laundry that needs foldin'."

Before Rick could even blink out of his stupor, you'd smiled -wide and bright, "Rick will help you, won't you?"

He blinked, seeming to filter through the heavy fog, "I was actually lookin' for Glenn-"

"Don't worry," you hummed, still barely a breath away from him -voice low and eyes heavy, "-I'm sure he'll understand. Everyone gets distracted, right?"

Rick was hanging onto your words, eyes shining in a kind of way that made you itch to touch him -breathy and on the edge of something, "Right."

"Good," you grinned, patting his cheek -much like an aunt at Thanksgiving, a bit condescending. Simply, leaving him as he was, and stepping back -you could hear him mutter something not very gentlemanly.

Glancing towards Maggie, you spoke casually -remaining as unaffected to the naked eye, "Let me know if you need anything else, Mags."

Maggie rolled her eyes, patting the bed for Rick to sit, and Rick well, he was grinning at you -eyes light and smiley. But the smooth smirk that gathered at his lips said all it needed to: game on.

Count that as a point for you.

The next time was a bit more of a mixed bag, you'd done something stupid. An extra run, you'd gone out on your own and you were fine. Just a few cuts and bruises, some blood (not yours) encrusted into your skin.

But you were exhausted by the time you approached the Alexandria gate -feet dragging, and hands aching to reach your own home for a hot shower. Anything really to soothe the pain in your back, you'd fallen, not far. You doubted anything was broken, but you knew it'd bruise -big and purple. You just figured you'd ask around and get a heating pad to sleep on until further notice.

One night would be fine.

What you hadn't accounted for was Gabriel watching as you left and watching you sneak back in. Nor had you accounted for just who he would tell.

"What the hell-" Rick's tone was low, not loud enough to wake anyone -as he faced you in the streets, "-were you thinking?"

You didn't ask how he'd known, you figured at that point it was pointless, "I wasn't. I know, it's stupid. Look, it's nothing major. I'll just deal with it in the morn-"

There was a shuffling in the nearby houses, and you both froze in place -air rushing from your mouth in a worried heap. Waiting for a light to switch on, or a door to open, anything-

After a few seconds, nothing echoed in the silence, and you opened your mouth to continue.

But, Rick -gruff and almost a growl (it made the hair stand up on your arms), interrupted, "Not here."

Your mind was in a fuzz, as his hand wrapped around your wrist (long, calloused fingers-) guiding you among the barely lit streets. The sound of walkers was distant in the night, and with your heart beating so loud in your chest -you had a spare thought to wonder if he could hear it.

With a dazed glance, you realized that Rick was leading you to your home -a tiny piece of you was crushed at the notion of not being in his home, but with Judith so young... it made sense. Your fingers dragged briefly along the familiar splintered wood, where you'd carved out initials of some people you once knew.

The thought passed quickly, as he pulled you inside -only stopping to shut the door and guide you further. There was a spark in your mind at the idea that maybe he'd guide you somewhere more private for different reasons than to cuss you out in the early morning hours, you stopped the thought process before it could get much farther.

"What-" you began, eager for an explanation, and he simply shushed you -not even turning back, he was so focused on his destination.

You'd tried to be offended, but the sudden turn into your bedroom cut the thought short. His fingers still closed around your wrist, you wondered again if he could feel it -bumping against his skin. Loud and nervous, because of him-

And then wondering, what would he do if he did?

Before you could put too much into that discussion, he turned into your bathroom. It wasn't exactly small, but Rick (in his broad shoulder and leader stance glory) had to squish up against you. Even slightly, the buzz of his body warmth against yours sent a zip up your spine that made you incredibly aware of the... Rick around you.

Woodsy smell, and calloused fingertips, you almost spoke -on instinct, trying to cool the fog of your brain. Regain anything but the overwhelming sense of salty sweat and heavy worry delicate wrapped around you. And yet-

He spoke then, simple, direct, "Up."

At first, you hadn't known what he meant, standing in the bathroom -merely noticing how close his chest would get to yours when he breathed in, until your fingertips brushed upon the countertops of your sink.

Oh.

Your body had a mind of it's own, extending your arms outward as Rick lifted you. And even just for the sole second you stayed in his arms -flannel fabric rubbing against your side, and fingers curled under your arms, you felt a sort of bliss.

Rick was in no such state, stepping back from you with a hand reached out (making sure you were steady in your place) and all at once giving you a look over. You truly didn't know how you looked, the bruise blossoming on your back was the only thing that was causing an ache right now. You thoroughly doubted he could see that.

And a few other scratches on your face maybe? And your shoulders? It was a bit blurry now. You seemed to remember the scraping of nails, and a sting following suit.

Rick's face stayed unmoving, blue eyes flickering in the low light -brief across your skin but it still felt quite vulnerable. Broken open in front of eyes that kept looking at you -intent and focused; you kind of wanted to shrink into yourself, disguise from them.

He didn't let up, eyes heavy on the task at hand -a sort of determination set in his jaw, "First aid?"

"Yeah, uh-" you cleared your throat, tightening your fingers on the counter -a spare thought almost had you skimming through his hair, "-it should be in the cabinet. It's the same one that was here when we arrived, is that-"

"'s fine," he interrupted, swiftly pulling the tiny case out of the cabinet -eyes set across a few of the spare scratches, "-better than nothin'."

He stayed focused, sliding between your legs -urging your chin up with the tiniest of touches, and using the motion to look at some of your scrapes. Your head was swimming in a sort of fuzz, following the motion like you were boneless -maybe you were.

"They aren't that bad," you tried to urge, sinking into the intimacy of having someone care for you -it was probably the first time it'd happened to you without asking.

Rick hummed, carefully wiping at one on your forehead -the most tender of touches with calloused fingertips (the contradiction making your head spin), "And that means what?"

You faltered, "Well, we shouldn't waste resources on-"

"I've got plenty of bandages," he answered, concisely, "-if someone needs some, tell 'em to come to me."

"Rick, I can't ask you to do that," you relented, unfamiliar with this energy in such a vulnerable position -when you felt like this, you'd been batting eyelashes and he'd do that smirk that made you forget what you were saying. It wasn't... it wasn't this. The tenderness in his hands, and the act of it being so natural to him, not a bother.

"Ya didn't," he answered, simply, hands wiping away at your skin so gently you almost leaned into it. The urge to let him hold you like putty, let him care for you, he clearly knew how-

You chose not to speak then, eyes dashing along his face -following the crinkles, and a few blemishes. You were close enough to memorize them, you might as well. The thoughts of wondrously connecting them on his face, brushing your hands along -it was something that you hadn't thought of.

You wouldn't let yourself.

"Why are you doing this?"

Rick paused in his motions, eyes littering down to yours -trying to read the look on your face. He exhaled, heavily, and took a few steps back -it cleared your head a bit, the smell of Rick just a tad less overwhelming all your senses. (You kind of missed it.)

"Can I ask you somethin'?" he questioned, tossing what he could in the tiny trashcan without much semblance of thought towards it.

You stiffened at the shift of tone, retorting with a tight smile, "I thought I just did, but uh... yeah."

"This," his finger flicked between the two of you -your eyes followed it with an embarrassing fervor, "-it's... What is it to you?"

If he'd asked yesterday, you would've answered much differently. Not that you hadn't felt... this, it was just a much different perspective. You hadn't thought of this part of it, the protectiveness, the concern, because of course, Rick Grimes was a force to be reckoned with. And if you got... involved, you imagined it extended to you.

"'Could ask you the same question," you deflected, fingers trailing down your arm and messing with your sleeve -it was partially rolled up and you flicked the button between your fingers.

"'Kay," he hummed, stepping closer -in your space just as seamlessly as before but this was more intentional, "-we can do it this way."

Without another word, he grabbed your hand by the wrist -stopping the motion with a heavy sort of look, "Pay attention."

You froze, watching as Rick stood a breath away from you -blue intense in a way you'd become familiar with, but still somehow different. You nodded, wordlessly.

"I'm-" he started, before seeming to scrap it, "There are no conditions with me. If I go anywhere with you, and I mean anywhere-"

Your breath hitched.

"-I'm for everythin'. There's no one thing," Rick continued, seeming to not notice the implications affecting you, "-it's everythin'. Mornings, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and if I can swing it... dates."

You exhaled, your gaze softening on the man -he wasn't shying away, eyes intently on yours. There was a new energy in the air, something softer -not as suffocating on his smirk, but warmer, enveloping you.

"You-" you started, tone shaky in a bit of disbelief, "-everything?"

His hand matched up to yours, fingertips detailing your palms without so much as a look down. Biting back a smile (like you weren't hyperaware of his mouth being so close), he mumbled -low gravel brushing across your skin, "Everythin'."

It took you less than a second to process the words, heart heavy against your ribcage, "Okay."

He blinked, stunned, "You... That was quick, I wasn't expectin'-"

"Rick," you exhaled, a bit breathy at the slightest touch of his hands, "-have you seen yourself?"

He laughed, short but it still sent a pleasant buzz up your spine -his hand rested an inch from your leg on the counter edge. And somehow your mouth kept running at the closeness.

"You're the best man I've ever met," you hummed, more sentimental but still in the rush of his scent and the dizziness of his body warmth, "-although, I'd hope you keep your... promises. I will gladly take anything you offer."

"I'll keep 'em," his voice was low, bubbling something up in your stomach -eyes heavy but something new there, affectionate even, "-I never say anythin' I don't mean. And trust me, I mean it."

You still hadn't crossed that boundary, mere looks and touches that lasted a bit too long -you shivered at the thought. It was building, loud and yelling in your head every time you so much as saw Rick in the corner of your eye. Eyes lingering for much longer than usual, you felt a bit like you were stopped.

Rick was leading, it wasn't that hard to tell -every smooth hand on the small of your back, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, and recently, without so much as a break in the conversation, pulling you into his lap.

There were perfectly good seats, many of them.

And yet, he sat you there -one of his big hands splayed along your side holding you steady and the other rubbing a soothing pattern in your thigh. The brush of his hands still ghosted over you even now, and if you focused hard enough, you could feel the drag of his fingertips on your skin.

Maggie hadn't let it go for weeks. Fuck, you hadn't let it go for weeks.

Maybe that's why you'd been grumpy that morning, the itching of having Rick Grimes's hands on you had set you a bit on edge. The building tension only made your throat close up and your brain sort of lack words, but you'd truly be dead before you'd give up.

You knew Rick was up early, he always was -set to do whatever he had to that day, or even to take care of Judith. Conveniently, though, Maggie had taken Judith that night and Carl had slept over at his new friend's house (Rick had been hard to convince on that front, but his weakness had always been his kids after all).

It was a Saturday, he liked to rest on Saturdays. You knew that because he'd sit out on his porch in the heat, sweat dripping from his face and the top few of his buttons undone to accost for the warmth.

Or, he totally could've known that you watched him like clockwork -eyes heavy on the touch of chest that showed and trailing the sweat down his collarbone. You were sure if you'd gone up to him when he sat like... that, you wouldn't have had such a clear mind.

He had that edge of cockiness now, he would unbutton his shirt just a little bit more to get your head spinning. It was in his character.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way into the neighboring house -the distant puff of sleep on your limbs but your mind had never been clearer. The door was unlocked, as you waltzed into the house -the emptiness was a sort of unfamiliar tone in the house, yet your body moved forward.

You made your way to the door -his bedroom, before you stopped. Your feet froze in place, as you followed the trail of the wood -seeming to realize just what you had done. Running into a man's house, and ending up at his bedroom door... in your pjs.

At the thought, your head swam and a blush of crimson flushed down to your collarbone. Biting your lip harder than you ever had in your life, your eyes lingered over the wood -hesitating to even imagine what was behind that door.

He had a white duvet, they all did.

You groaned, not even noticing the volume level, because it was early and you weren't thinking- and spun on your heel, ready to confront him later. At a more reasonable hour, and more reasonable clothing.

The door creaked open, and something in you stayed frozen to your spot, only halfway spun towards the door. It was obvious, big t-shirt and sweatpants that you had just woken up, and in that bliss, you thought that maybe the shadow hid you in the hallway. It was early enough to cast the world in a sort of darkness -halfway between the sun shining and the cloudy early morning.

And then he chuckled -a sort of warm gravelly tone, "You want some breakfast?"

You opened your mouth to respond, turning back to the door -eyes settling on the man in the frame. His figure seemed somehow towering, more than usual, curls a bit wild -your fingers itched to smooth it down. And he was shirtless, the expanse of his skin making your head flutter in a pleasant sort of way -slight marks of freckles etched across him, and plaid pants hanging low on his waist.

You felt your anger dissipate, despite the urge to hold onto it, sighing, "I... yes."

"Good," his voice was low, sleep-slurred, and you suddenly got the thought this was a very bad idea. His arm wrapped around you -body warm tripled with just skin, as he guided you into the kitchen.

You had beaten this before, the sort of buzz that Rick Grimes put you in, but he had never been so close and shirtless before. The bare skin of his side pressed into you like it was nothing, your mind spun -lucky he was guiding you so swiftly.

"You gonna tell me why you're 'ere?"

He was looking at you now, the kitchen was much brighter -open curtains, and light cabinets. He looked domestic in here, and the kitchen itself seemed like his. A few bowls dirty in the sink, dish towels hanging on the oven, some baby snacks sorted into little baggies, it all screamed Grimes household.

You cleared your throat, "You wanna know?"

"I asked," he smiled, toothy and bright -so warm and fuzzy, "-didn't I?"

"You're not," you paused, trying to coil down the nerves tight in your stomach, "-freaked out that I'm here?"

Rick laughed, somehow getting somewhat closer to you, hands rubbing up and down your arms without much extra thought. Before his face settled into something heavier, affection still high on his face, but something more familiar there.

"Y/N," the smooth upturn of his lips, as he gathered closer to you, his breaths quick despite his demeanor, "-if I had my way you'd be here every night and day."

Your heart was fast in your chest, heavy against your ribs and you thought about it for a second. Waking up here, dinners with Carl and Judith, Rick... everywhere. It wasn't... bad.

It was far from bad.

And that wasn't just Rick, it was everything. A domesticity with Rick that you had come to terms that you'd never get, and yet here it was. Laid beautifully in front of you.

Rick was nervous, you could tell. The shift on his feet, his eyes glazing over your face so intently like he was memorizing every shift but to try and find out what you were thinking. He had always looked at you, you realized.

The amount of that blue shine you'd seen with such intense focus wasn't just this. And he'd always touched you. If danger was present, he'd tug you behind him without a single extra thought. With the gentlest of touches when you were injured, he was sure to help you through it -if not there with you, he'd stick someone he trusted. (Insanely, he'd told Daryl once when they were trying to raid another camp and Daryl would've been immensely useful-) And the smirk, it wasn't new... You'd seen it in banter, he'd make you laugh so hard and he'd make that face like he was smug, like he was proud.

"Y/N?" he asked, a bit scared of the silence, "-Everythin' alright?"

"I-" you started, a bit startled at the revelation but confident in pursuing it, "This was never a competition to you, was it?"

Rick furrowed his eyebrows, reiterating, "I told you-"

"No, no," you interrupted, taking a few dangerous steps forward, "-before that. Before that meeting when I didn't sleep enough... You-"

You couldn't finish it, the word hanging heavy in the air, just on the cusp of your tongue. It would be real then, and you still weren't sure. You couldn't say it, you could just act like it never happened-

"I love you."

And there it was, silencing your train of your thought, as you looked at him with a sort of curiosity. He wasn't looking at you, eyes scrunched closed as he rubbed at his face, embarrassed almost. Like he had never intended to tell you, or never have you find out. Was he... Was he afraid?

"I-" he started, trailing off in a deep sigh, "I never meant for it to be... Shit, this looks so bad. I wasn't trying to convince you to feel the same. I just- It just started. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"Rick," you tried -but your voice was so quiet.

"I never. Fuck. It wasn't supposed to go this far-"

"Rick-" you urged, louder, but it didn't stop his pacing.

"It just happened, over the years... I couldn't stop it, everythin' just kept adding up. I kept lookin' at you, and I couldn't stop. And then, you were half asleep but you said it- I thought maybe... I just wanted it to be real-"

"Rick," you leaned up, placing your hands on the sides of his face and making him look at you, "-breathe."

He stopped, eyes wide and blue -looking right into yours, and following your whispers of instructions. Trying to keep his brain right here with you, you counted out his breaths and he looked with something you wouldn't have noticed before. But now you did.

"You with me?"

He swallowed, nervous, "Yes, but-"

And without a second thought, you pushed forward and put your lips on his. It was a quick motion, a bit frantic, so Rick had to adjust. He originally wasn't responding, still and unmoving against every molecule of your body trying to be close to yours.

Then he did.

Rick was smooth, moving his arms to wrap around your middle (urging you even closer) and dipping into you without much less restraint. Your hands brushed across his stubble and tucked behind his ears, twirled up in his curls like it would keep you grounded. And maybe it was. The simple press had evolved, a sort of emotion lingering in the touching skin. You itched to somehow be closer, to ignite that sort of attention everywhere. The sparks were alluring, and all you could think about was more.

Rick was on a different page, pulling back with a grin so bright you'd almost flinched at it. After a few moments of looking, you watched as he slowly leaned forward -your body naturally leaning forward a sort of bliss piercing over your mind.

And then, he swerved.

He pulled his hand out of its position against your back -brushing your stomach as it came to your throat. And then, as gently as a butterfly landing on your finger, he pressed his thumb into your pulse. It was currently crazy, running on the adrenaline of showing up here so early and his confession, and the kiss-

All he did was grin.

"So fast," leaning into your ear, huffs of breaths hot on your skin -you just knew that he knew what he was doing, "-that for me, sweetheart?"

You growled, frustration at its peak, and pulled back to match his face -at a sudden mix of affection and anger, you let your heart speak, "Fuck you, Grimes."

He merely smiled brighter, head tilting ever so closely, "Well, since you asked so nicely-"

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #twd oneshot #scratch that itch

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->Wilbur Soot x Reader (hinted but never explicitly stated) ->No use of Y/n ->I tried to be as gender neutral as possible.

*Hurt, minimal comfort, hopeful ending TW: Su*cidal ideation, Self destructive thoughts and actions, SH mentions/references, depression, lots and lots of depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK Summary: You are stuck in a multi-month long depressive episode, and it's gotten so much worse. You're on your last leg, and you need someone to help you. Good thing best friend(?) Wilbur and his band are there to help :] Word Count - 2.4k

Wilbur Soot. Twitch streamer turned famous musician, heartthrob—you get it. He’s everything anyone could want in a partner. Trust me, I would know. He’s been my best friend since form. And since then, he’s only ever been kind and considerate and just overall an amazing person. What a guy right? With his stupid brown hair that covers one of his eyes when it’s outgrown. Stupid brown eyes that have just the right amount of dark and light brown in them. It’s stupid of me really, to ever hope for a future with him that involves us being more than friends. I can only hope though, right? He’s up there, in the states, singing his heart out on a stage. While I’m stuck, on the other side of paradise–more like purgatory–lamenting on how many people adore him. I’m feeling sorry for myself, rotting away in bed at 2 in the morning. It’s not like I have to work in three hours–whaaaat nooooo… A knot develops in my stomach at the mere thought of leaving my bed. Maybe losing my job isn’t so bad. Wilbur has told me time and time again he’d pay me to edit for him. But I could never make him do that. Never would I take advantage of him like that. I’d feel like more of a burden than I already do. The thought of him having to support me financially makes me want to vomit. It makes my skin crawl, so it’s okay if I waste away. If I end up rotting away in my bed. It’s fine. At least then I wouldn’t be able to consume too much of Wilbur’s time. Taking up too much of his time has always been my biggest fear. To me, it came true a long time ago and I’m finally reaping what I sowed. It sucks really, how I thought I'd have a shot. Just for it all to blow up in my face. Now he’s somewhere in America–having the time of his life. Good for him. Bad for me.

Reaching over, I grab my phone. My coworkers probably hate me. I keep asking them to cover my shifts so I can rot in bed for another day. It’s been like this since–September? It started off just once every few weeks. Now, it being almost December, I’ve not gone to work in over two weeks. What’s the point anymore anyways? I can’t do this. I can’t do anything. Deep down, when I started doing things for myself–I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this. That was two years ago. I guess I’m finally breaking.

Pulling the duvet over my head, I try not to think about how my breath smells, and the uncomfortable way the oil sticks to my face. I shove my head into the pillow. Trying to block out the sounds of people existing below my apartment. It’s so much easier to rot away when people don’t rely on you. When you have no reason for existence. I don’t want to die. But at the same time I don’t want to live. I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it, so I lay and wait. I wait for some omnipotent being to strike me down and judge me for how I’ve managed to mess up any and all relationships I’ve ever had with anyone. Me and Nikki haven’t spoken in almost a year. Me and Wilbur haven’t even seen each other in months My family doesn’t talk to me.

I wish I could say “The world is fucked and everyone hates me.” But that’s not the truth. The truth is I am my own undoing. I have destroyed everything I’ve worked for. Any relationships–platonic and romantic–have fallen through because of my own emotions and insecurities getting in the way. It’s not fair for anyone. Well, anyone except for me. I brought this upon myself. My phone is the only thing lighting up my face. I looked at the time. Suddenly it’s six in the morning, and I’m late for work. The thought makes me want to cry, but I can’t. I can’t tell if it’s apathy—or dehydration.

I call my boss. She answers. “Where are you?! I haven’t seen you in weeks! I’m worried about you hun, do you need me to call someone?” She opens, sounding both relieved and shocked I even called. I clear my throat the best I can, swallowing saliva feels like eating sandpaper. “I uh..I was calling to let you know I won’t be coming back. I’m quitting. And I’m sorry for not putting in my two weeks. It’s not–” Something foreign is bubbling up in my throat, I force myself to swallow it down. “-It’s not fair to you. And I’m sorry.” I whisper, hanging up shortly after.

I feel terrible for worrying her. I feel terrible for upsetting her. I feel terrible. I am terrible. I’m a parasite. I always have been. Mooching off of others in order to help myself get by. My thoughts fall back to Wilbur. I’ve been mooching off of him for however long we’ve been friends. I want him to be happy. I don’t want him to feel like he needs to be my friend to keep me alive. But at the same time–I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look myself in the mirror and tell myself it’s me. I can’t. I’m not the person I thought I’d become. I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m useless. My phone rings again. I go to decline it, I can’t.

Wilbur’s face greets me. His contact photo, the two of us at the amusement park I helped them film for Tommy’s vlog channel. We’re smiling. His arm over my shoulder, and my head on his arm. I remember that day. Wilbur held me for a bit while Tommy and Phil were off filming a different part of the vlog with Russ. I was overwhelmed and so was he, so we took the time to chill by the snack stands. He got tommy cotton candy, and we split popcorn even though he couldn’t really taste it. We spent a good time just taking funny pictures with each other. I remember that day, it was a great one.

Tears breach my eyes before I can stop them. A sob ripping through me, I force my face into the pillow to muffle it. The ringing stops. My tears don’t, and that makes me feel so much worse. My chest convulses as my sobs reverberate through the room. I’m a mess. I’m laying in my bed, rotting. Wasting away and feeling sorry for myself. Everything is terrifying, every breath I take reminds me of how I’m alive. Reminds me of how I can’t escape the feeling of impending doom that washes over me. I’m going to die here. I’m going to die. I was never permanent.

I knew I couldn’t do this. I’ve been lying to myself, little lies, white lies. To convince myself everything was okay. That it was fine for me to fall in love, it was fine for me to believe I wasn’t just taking up space. That I wasn’t slowly getting tired.

Contemplating whether or not cut myself some slack–but ending up just cutting myself loose. I lift the duvet from my head, staring at the ceiling. My eyes flick to the ground, clothes and food everywhere. Some of it’s moldy. It makes me feel worse about myself. Turning my head, I look to my PC. I should sell it. Someone else would be much happier with it. I haven’t used it in a while anyways. I can’t take care of any of the stuff I have can I?

My phone rings again, this time I do answer.

“Oh my god–” I hear multiple people take a sharp breath in. I can’t stop myself from making a small noise of confusion. “Hey..Your boss–called us.” I recognize the voice to be Joe. I lift the phone, checking the caller ID. It was Wilbur again. “Wil—?” It hurts so bad to talk, I haven’t used my voice this much since the end of October. I hear a choked noise and whispers. “We’re gonna—come over there okay? The tour ended last night, no gigs for a while. Wil’s been missing you y’know.” I can’t tell who said that, “I–no. Sorry.” I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I hung up either.

Maybe deep down I did want them to help, I do want their help. But logically–It’s for the best.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed, cringing at how my clothes hang off of me. My back hurts something awful. I’m so tired.

Yet I stand on two feet and walk to my bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize them. My hair–too long and too oily for it to be mine. My skin is pale and the bags under my eyes are so dark they could rival a racoon.

It’s then that my legs decide to give out. I can feel my knees split as I hit the tile. I’m so tired. I look down at the sweater I’m wearing. It’s one of Wil’s. I can’t remember when I put it on. I can’t remember a lot of things recently. Like when this got so bad. Or when my arms started to sting. My eyes are heavy, I can barely keep them open. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad.

When I wake up it’s to voices around me. I’m laying on something warm–It’s moving. I can’t find it in myself to open my eyes. My breathing picks up, and I hear an intake of air accompanied by a hand on my forehead. My eyes are shooting open in fear before I’m trembling. He’s above me, looking down at me like I could break.

I look around, there's two other people. I can barely make them out. Joe and Ash. It’s hard to think. It’s so hard to think.

“There you are..” Wilbur whispers, his pointer finger gently stroking my cheekbone. “What happened to you love?” I can’t tell if it’s his tone, or the fact he looks so broken. But I can’t stop my eyes from watering and my body from turning into him, hiding myself away. Embarrassment filled me, they’d seen it all. The moldy food, the dirty clothes. They probably saw the abundance of mail I'd gotten as well. People are walking out the room. Not Wilbur, he stays. He stays and makes me look at him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m gonna help you shower, and they’re going to clean and get you food. Okay?” My eyes widened. I shake my head so quickly it hurts. His face falls, he looks down at what I’m wearing. His face falls even more. “Love…” He whispers. “I don’t–I can’t. Don’t make me.” I whisper. Wilbur wipes away my tears and shakes his head. “No. You’re going to get clean, eat, and then you will sleep for however long you need to.” He lifts me like I’m nothing.

He sets me on the toilet, turning to the tub and turning on the faucet. He waits for it to get warm before he’s plugging the drain and helping me get undressed. He brushes the hair from my face, he frowns at the sight of the back of my head. He looks down at my arms before I can see him clenching his jaw. “We’ll work on the matts too.” He picks me up again, placing me in the tub and going to shut the door. He grabs a towel from the cabinet, as well as a washcloth. He swipes the comb from the counter.

“I’m sorry.” I can’t help but whisper. He sighs. “I know. But it’s alright. We were worried about you.” Was all he said before he’s dousing my hair in water. He keeps a hand on my forehead, stopping the water from getting into my eyes. And with that, he applies conditioner and starts to de-matt my hair. An hour and countless tub refills later, my hair is de-matted and I’m clean. Feeling slightly better too. Wilbur gave me the crewneck he was wearing for comfort, before planting a kiss on my forehead and leaving the room to grab other clothes. The sounds from the outside are a lot less foggy now. I can hear the boys outside bickering and talking. “Are they okay Wil?” “What happened?” “From your face, I can tell it wasn’t good.”

I can’t help but stand weakly, the towel wrapped around me. I look in the mirror. I look a little more like myself. I touch my face, I look pale. I am pale. My hair is a bit longer now. I don’t smell bad anymore. I do feel better, but I can’t help but think I’m making Wilbur do this.

Wilbur reappears, he looks at me and smiles. He hands me the clothing he picked out before leaving the room once again, though he stands just outside the door.

I dress quickly. Slipping on Wilbur’s crewneck once I have my shirt on. I walk out, giving Wilbur a small smile. “You uh–You didn’t have to do this.” He takes my hand and leads me through my now clean apartment. “I did. Because if I didn’t–If we didn’t, you’d be dead right now, or you’d have killed yourself soon.” He says, sitting me down at the table that’s been cleared off. “Now, be honest. When is the last time you remember eating something?” He asks.

My face drops. That’s the thing–I can’t. “Uh–Tuesday?” I say, like I even know what day it is, his face falls. “It’s Friday.” He deadpans before going into the kitchen, he comes back with Ash, Mark, and Joe. They each have both in their hands. Wilbur has two.

“It’s just soup. Easy on the stomach.” Joe pipes up before sitting on my right, Wilbur sits on my left, and Ash and Mark sit across from me. “We don’t need to talk about things right now, no one is going to make you. But you need to talk to someone soon. Maybe not us, but someone.” Wilbur said, putting his hand on my knee. “Yeah. I think I can do that.” They smile, I eat my soup, and for the first time since September–I feel permanent.

#wilbur soot #fluff #wilbur mcyt #wilbur #angst #x reader #wilbur soot x reader #Wilbur Soot x Reader angst #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #heavy angst #hurt/comfort #Minimal comfort #lovejoy

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 month

Text

Paradise (what about us?) | JJK | SNIPPET

Pairing: military! husband! Jungkook x engineer! wife! Reader

A/N: Welcome, darlings, to my April's GOLDEN fic! This was inspired by "Paradise (what about us?)" by Within Temptation as well as the video game "Fallout 4" so you can thank my dad he played it while I watched :D I'll be publishing snippets here and there as well as progress on the story. I really hope you will like it and remember you can get access to exclusive fics with my Golden Membership I'll link below! ALSO, the poll I said I'd publish have been postponed because uni has been kicking my ass. That's why I'll be writing this story I'm currently inspired to write. Additional content will be published on Ko-fi

Warnings: apocalypse! AU, war! AU, dystopian! AU, violence, blood, gore, use of weapons, angst, some fluff here and there, survival! AU, married! AU, ft. OT7, futuristic! AU, sci-fi, military! Jungkook (I'm in love), oc is described to be shorter than Koo, more warnings will be added on the fic,

~SNIPPET

The world ended 150 years ago.

And now, what was left to do was to survive in this new cursed paradise.

“Have you ever wondered what it was like to live before hell fell upon us?”

“Have you ever wished you had died in the war?”

“Have you ever wanted to live so much like now?”

Those questions were commonly asked. Cruel questions. Questions you didn’t know the answer to. Questions that made you think in a world where you could only act. Where impulses won over reasoning. Where life was considered both as a curse and a blessing and sometimes, neither you nor your husband Jungkook knew if it was worth fighting for a fallen world or to join the dead, for in death there’s peace you’ll never find in this dark paradise.

Get my GOLDEN Membership for exclusive fics, additional side-content and special snippets. As well as insights of my writing process! Don´t miss out on this opportunity of becoming GOLDEN!

April/16/2024

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sunnebeam · 10 months

Text

and all the pieces fall.

A 'DARKEST LITTLE PARADISE' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

warnings: fluff (the calm kind, not the tooth-rotting kind sadly), revelations, mentions of past car accident, mafia au (but no specific details in this particular drabble), other warnings withheld due to possible spoilers

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: would u look at that, no smut for once HAH anyways a lot of u guys seemed to like the first drabble (read that first if u haven't yet!) so here's an attempt at a continuation <3 please share your thoughts! feedback and reviews always keep me going ^^

— prev: in the darkest little paradise | next: everything just stops

The harbor at night shows the best view of the city.

It's tragic, really, how little you see of the city you live in. You only ever lingered in places near your apartment or near your work, and you no longer remember the area you grew up in as a child.

This unfamiliar side of the city — the side with skyrise buildings, bustling night life, and uptown streets — is wholly new to you.

"Are you cold?"

And amongst other things that are new...

"I'm fine," you answer as you feel his presence behind you. "Just enjoying the view."

A warm jacket is placed on your shoulders and you smile at the action. This is a side of Yoongi that's kind of new to you. You only ever spent time with each other in the bedroom, and there, he's always so dominating, so intense. It's nice to get to know this softer, caring side of Yoongi outside of sex.

Regardless, you pull the jacket tighter around you. You don't really feel cold but he decides to wrap you in his arms anyway, your back to his chest, as you both look out the harbor.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" he asks, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"I loved it," you affirm, soaking in the intimacy he's offering.

Yoongi's always commanding and rough in bed, but you aren't a stranger to his sweet kisses and affectionate touches during aftercare. Still, you always told yourself to keep your distance, to not get too attached, because at the end of the night, he's still a paying client.

Tonight, though, you allow yourself small luxuries.

"Good," he says, relieved, before whispering in your ear, "happy birthday, princess."

You smile, closing your eyes. This is the best birthday you've had in a while. You take a moment to soak in the feeling, but after about a few minutes, you know you can't avoid it any longer.

You need answers.

"Yoongi?"

"Mm?"

You feel his lips on your neck.

"How did you know my birthday?"

He plants a chaste kiss on your neck.

"Does it matter how I know?" he asks.

"It matters to me."

He pauses and contemplates before his lips reach your ear.

"What would you do if I said it was a lucky guess?"

You shiver at his voice, then you open your eyes.

"I would say you're a liar," you eventually say, "and then I'd ask you how you know about my allergy."

You're referring to the incident earlier when Yoongi ordered a dish that was supposed to have certain ingredients in it that you're allergic to, but he was quick to tell the staff to remove them before you could even say anything.

"Then I would say you're too sharp for your own good," he concludes, sighing.

You blink in confusion, before pulling out of his embrace to turn around and look at him properly. He looks back at you with a forlorn expression.

"You really don't remember, princess?"

"Remember what, Yoongi?"

"Think for a minute. Please." His voice starts to become frantic. "Don't you remember anything at all? Anything?"

"Yoongi, I don't—"

"You have to remember." His voice is getting louder, desperation lacing his features. "Try and think back to eight years ago. Try and think back to before the accident."

Accident? How could he have known about that?

Around eight or so years ago, you got into a pretty bad car accident which led you to lose your memories. The doctors hoped it was just temporary but unfortunately, you current memory only dates back to when you woke up at the hospital to see your mother's distraught face. Anything before the accident was a complete blank.

It's a sensitive topic for you so you never really told anyone. No one else of importance needed to know, anyway. The only one who knew was your mother and she's already passed.

So how the fuck does Yoongi know?

"Yoongi, you're not making any sense," you tell him, tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes. "You're scaring me."

"No, no, don't be scared." He cups your cheeks and plants a small, reassuring kiss on your lips. "I'm sorry. I just... really want you to remember on your own..."

"Remember what?" you ask him for the second time. "What do I need to remember, Yoongi? And how the fuck do you know about my accident?"

Your voice is getting louder, your tears finally falling. You have half the mind to be more quiet but the way he is talking to you (or not talking to you) is getting on your nerves.

He clearly knows something. And since it very clearly involves you, you deserve to know everything.

Yoongi stares at you for what seems like a long time, debating whether or not to finally give you the answers you're seeking.

In the end, he decides to tell you the truth.

"Princess..." he starts slowly, "your accident..."

And all the pieces fall—

"I know about it because," he continues, "I was the reason behind it."

—right into place.

He then tells you all you deserve to know – that you've been in love since you were teenagers, that some rival gang orchestrated your accident eight years ago in an attempt to spite him, that you lost all your memories because of it, and that your mother convinced him to leave you to keep you safe.

It wasn't easy leaving you, but with you losing your memories and with his risky line of work, he eventually backed off, thinking you were better off with a fresh, blank start.

But when he saw you again at the city's red district about a year ago, he couldn't resist his longing anymore. He had to have you again in any way he could have you. Even if it meant you didn't remember. Even if it meant he was a stranger to you.

And even if it meant you didn't love him anymore.

#bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fic #min yoongi fic #yoongi fic #suga fic #bts x you #min yoongi x you #yoongi x you #suga x you #bts x y/n #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #cat.writes

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lilacsbeeswax · 2 months

Note

happy birthday to your account!! for your writing event, can I please have Lilies 🌺 with work song by hozier and sirius black? thank you🖤

Work Song

Part of my 2 year milestone event!

MASTERLIST

——-

Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

Work, work, and work Sirius swore these days it’s all that he did. Back when his dream of running his own tattoo shop was nothing but that he had had no idea what it would entail.

For the past week, he had been clogged with appointments. So many people had wanted custom tattoos, so he was drawing constantly. Then, it came to actually doing the pre booked tattoos which could take hours. As well as, walk ins that paid well, but took just as much time. Even when sharing the work load with James it was hard. Remus was out on vacation meaning Sirius had to take over bookkeeping and running the business. He swore he’d never have to do math, but there he was doing basic algebra at 8 am.

In short, Sirius was absolutely swamped. He had even been sleeping (albeit only a few hours) at the shop. His overfull mind only becoming more painful in the hours away from her.

Her. His only paradise. His pretty baby. The only girl for him.

He got small tastes of Y/n throughout the day, but it didn’t satiate his desire for her. Everyday at 11:30 am, she would bring him lunch during her break at her own job. She could be doing anything else, but she wanted to spend her rest time on him. Sirius loved it so much he felt sick. Often, he would be thinking about her so much that he wouldn’t be able to eat. He was unable to stomach the sweetness that he felt he never deserved.

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

Sirius walked into the apartment on Saturday night exhausted. Y/n called out to him, “Siri? Is that you?”

He didn’t respond quietly slipping off his shoes and coat. She turned the corner, running up to him and nearly sliding on the laminate floor. She wrapped her arms around him, placing her forehead on his.

“Hey baby,” Sirius sighed. “I missed you.”

She leaned away and smiled at him. That sweet smile that made him feel like he was going to faint. “I missed you more!”

Sirius moved to brush a thumb against her lips relishing in everything about her, before his gently pulled her into a kiss. It was soft and sweet and if he didn’t know better, Sirius would suspect he was going into cardiac arrest.

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

And I was burnin' up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

Y/n and Sirius had met many years ago, back when he was a self-described man whore and carried way too much trauma to hold on his own.

He had been a mess. Drinking constantly, using, and not being able to hold a stable job. Despite all of his problems, she had pulled him up and out of it.

Sirius had lost yet another job the day he had started that fateful drunken binge. Maybe, it was the cheap vodka or the combination of it and the weed, but he had called her.

When she arrived at his place after a very concerning phone call, you had found him on the floor half dead. From then on she never stopped taking care of him. She never asked what really happened.

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

Y/n and Sirius got ready for bed and laid down on their soft shared mattress for the first time in what felt like weeks.

She ran her fingers over his scarred up arms and chest. She kissed his lips, while caressing the marred skin. Sirius pulled away and kissed down her neck, nipping at all of the places he knew she liked. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her smiling under the dim lamp light.

“Fucking hell, you’re heaven.” He chuckled, saying a word between every soft peck of her neck.

“I could say the same about you, Siri.” She giggled, pulling him close to her, not planning on letting go anytime soon.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Lying there wrapped around the love of his life, Sirius couldn’t help but smile, knowing no one and nothing could take him away from his baby.

MASTERLIST

#fluff #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #lilacsasks #2 year tumblrversary #fanfic event

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henrysglock · 1 year

Text

Mother is God, In The Eyes of a Child

This has got to be my farthest-fetched theory, and its more of a collection of observations that weave together than an actual theory. However...there's something distinctly weird about all this.

It started here:

Max steps on spider egg sacs in Vecna's mind lair, and the babies spill out.

"If there's a spider, you're never gonna find it 'till it lays eggs and the babies spill out"

Then Vecna killing Patrick while looking distinctly like a spider on a web, a direct comparison to those black widows.

And I talked in the discord chat talking with Em for a while like. They. They wouldn't. Right? And I've been sitting here thinking about the last time I said "they wouldn't...right?" So here we go.

"Of course you have a mother. You couldn't really have been born without one."

But Mama is dead...

just like One doesn't exist.

And whoever you are, either you aren't home (which, you're "Terry's daughter" in Terry's home which was decorated for you in hopes that you'd come home 🤨)...or you aren't Terry's daughter.

but wait: Mr. Mom? Perfect!

Mr. Mom...which leads straight to the lab going haywire:

Because of the Mind Flayer, who we know is (most likely) a version of Edward.

And "sleepyhead" is a parent thing...but it's specifically a mom thing, and it comes from the guy who's likely Edward. Why are you, as a man, so distinctly mother?

And so I'm looking at all of his God coding:

And I'm looking at his talk of spiders, particularly black widows, being the gods of our world:

There's also this particular dialogue parallel with Carrie's mother:

As well as Black Widow "God of Our World" 001 and Henry "Sensitive (Gay) Child" Creel, framed this way in back to back shots.

One of them has the rainbow flag and the other's got the black widow spider, makes sense...right? (Sure. Except not really.)

He also has a ton of God coding in his music choices:

Except, when we look at the songs he alone or he and El are overlaid with...Akhnaten is functionally a mezzo-soprano. In the pieces we hear specifically, Akhnaten sings in the same range or higher than Nefertiti.

Which then gets me thinking about the Silent Hill parallels (that Em has talked about here), and specifically this one line of dialogue from Dahlia:

And the fact that every single black widow spider reference regarding Henward/Vecna/001 has been about female black widows, never male ones:

As well as a good portion of his rant being about:

- Being vaguely broken (what's wrong with him is never said) - His kinship with spiders (specifically the female black widows) - Society's oppressive made-up rules - Being forced to pretend (unspecificed as to what, exactly, he's pretending about...all we get is "a silly, terrible play") - Reproduction

Then the fact that Vecna kind of has a thing for showing up as mothers:

And on top of all that...the fact that Vecna somehow lost his dick along the way. Where did it go????????

There's also all the birthing and reproduction imagery that goes along with the UD, most blatantly in the scene where El crawls out of the same hole the Demogorgon came through:

As well as these movies from the ST4 Movie Board:

Ace Ventura Pet Detective: Finkle has a sex change to assume a new identity and seek vengeance.

Let The Right One In: Vampire girl who is really a boy being forced to live as a girl

Sleepaway Camp: Girl named Angela who is actually a boy named Peter being forced by his aunt to live as a girl after his twin sister (the real Angela) was killed in an accident. (Wibble knows more about this one than I do, but I'm staring at Peter Ballard and all of our Angela's parallels to the lab)

Splice: Female Human-Animal hybrid "dies" (is actually in a coma) and undergoes a spontaneous sex change to male and proceeds to go berserk.

Silence of the Lambs: Main villain is a blonde, wavy-haired cross-dressing serial killer.

And then with the parallels to Room (even if it isn't on the ST4 Movie Board):

Plus Will's Alan Turing poster and the castration stuff that goes along with that..and the "Henry" that shows up behind him:

What in the gender is going on here?

#martin brenner. what did you DO.#he wanted more. and soon...you were born.#henry creel #edward creel #henry/vecna/001 #edward/vecna/001 #st theory #stranger things theory #stranger things

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444rockstargf · 9 months

Note

now one where the reader accepts and eats the "strawberries" that marcus offers 🤩🤩🤩

yes!!! omg if he offered them to me they wouldve been all gone.

"strawberries, cherries and an angel's kiss." | marcus

summer wine. - lana del rey

female!reader x marcus

contents: slight mentions of sex

you woke up in an umfamiliar bed, all your clothes having been discarded from last nights activities. you looked around the room, your eyes landed on the man that had brought you to his place.

he was doing something in the kitchen, and he was completely bare just like you were. he looked back at you, smiling. "oh hey, you're up." he placed a knife that he was using to the side and walked toward the bed, holding a glass bowl full of ripe strawberries.

he hopped into bed beside you, biting into one of them. "strawberry?" he offered. you looked down at the clear bowl, which was pressed up against his dick. this was the first time you were actually looking at it since things went pretty fat last night.

you hesitated, your train of thought being lost from the sight that was right in front of you. but after a moment, you looked up at him and smiled, "sure. thanks." he sat down beside you, placing the bowl inbetween you both and looking at you intently as you picked one from the bowl.

the two of you ate in complete silence, but it was comfortable and not awkward. you glanced over at him, who was smiling. a little grin spread across your face. "what?" you asked, accidentally looking at his dick once again.

he shrugged. "i dont know. you just seem really special i guess. ive never met a girl like you before." he bit into a strawberry with an audible crunch. you reached out your hand to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "thanks. i appreciate that."

"i mean it. i've just never felt a connection like this with anyone else. you seem genuine and real." he looks at you intently. you give him a shy little smile as you bit into another strawberry. he seemed to be thinking deeply about something.

he took a minute to study all your features carefully, not missing a single one. "so... do you, uh, live alone?" he broke the silence. you shook your head. "no, i live with my sister. its not exactly paradise, but i've been trying to manage." your tone went down a little, which he noticed. he thought for a moment.

"you know, i think it'd be kind of nice to have someone else staying here with me. like a roommate. what do you say, wanna stick around for a little while?" your eyes widen a little, but you considered your current living situation. it certainly wasnt ideal, so you saw this as a good opportunity to take the next step in your life.

"yeah, i think i'd like that a lot." you smile warmly at him, thinking that this one-night stand could turn out to be something a lot more meaningful.

author's note: im considering actually finishing the episiode and actually watching the show so that i can understand it more. thank you for the request!

#rory culkin #swarm #i ❤ rory culkin #swarm 2023 #lana del rey #444rockstargf

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cool-fancier · 6 months

Text

What The Future Holds

Synopsis: Bada's dance studio introduced a friendship that blossomed into a heartfelt coffee date and more.

The dancing studio was a haven of rhythm and movement, where melodies and delicate steps merged, painting a canvas of expression and artistry. Your paths met with Bada's here, between the pulsating sounds and exquisite choreography.

Bada was a flurry of grace and passion the first time you saw her, her movements a symphony of fluidity and intensity. Her grace on the dance floor captured your attention like a moth to a flame.

"You have great form," you said after a particularly impressive dance, unable to conceal your excitement for her talent.

Bada's smile was radiant, her eyes reflecting genuine appreciation. "Thank you! You're not too bad yourself," she replied, her voice laced with warmth.

The initial talk grew into a friendship established by a mutual love of dance. Conversations expanded outside of the dance studio, meandering over common interests and aspirations.

The friendship between you and Bada became stronger as the days changed into weeks, and weeks into months. The dance studio had been transformed into a paradise of laughter and chat in between routines.

The boundaries of your relationship evolved softly amidst the lively banter and shared moments. Bada's laughter became music to your ears, and her presence was a continual source of solace in the middle of life's chaos.

Bada lingered around one evening after an especially thrilling dance session, a hesitant expression on her features. "Hey, would you want to grab some coffee with me after this?"

Her offer caused you to feel both excited and scared. "Sure, I'd love to!" you said, attempting to keep your feelings in check.

The modest café down the street served as the setting for an evening that marked a turning point in your friendship. Bada's laughter rang through the cosy space, spreading a warmth that wrapped both of you, amidst steaming mugs of coffee and animated conversation.

"I've really enjoyed spending time with you," Bada acknowledged, her eyes meeting yours with a vulnerable expression.

A surge of bravery pushed you to express the feelings that had lingered between you. "Me too. "I feel like we have a real connection, you know?"

There was an unconscious acknowledgement of the developing feelings that simmered beneath the surface in that instant. The café hummed with the electricity of unspoken thoughts, both cautious and eager to move further.

"Would you want to go out with me sometime? Like, on a proper date?" Bada's voice was a little apprehensive, her eyes searching for ease.

Your heart skipped a beat as you smiled and answered her question. "I'd love to," you said, relief filling your chest at the mutual approval.

And in that moment, amidst the fragrant aroma of coffee and the shared laughter, the unspoken longing found a voice. The decision to take a step beyond the realm of friendship felt like a natural progression, a testament to the bond that had blossomed amidst the rhythms and movements of the dance floor.

-———————

The sun hung slowly in the sky over a peaceful meadow, putting a golden glow on the green expanse. You and Bada lay next to one other, the grass blades cushioning your bodies as you looked up at the canvas of clouds moving slowly across the vast expanse above.

"Look at that cloud, it's like a heart," Bada pointed to a fluffy mass that seemed to resemble an oversized heart.

You chuckled, letting your imagination take hold. "A heart, you say?" It seems to be a fluffy cushion that has been squeezed too much."

Bada laughed, her laughter a gentle melody that blended with the soft rustle of leaves. "A squished pillow heart! I can see that."

The pleasant banter flowed easily between you, a treasured rhythm in the peace of the field. These joyful moments were gems, momentary reprieves from the weight of the world.

As the conversation meandered through whimsical clouds, it inevitably found its way to discussions about the future.

"Do you think we'll live in the city or somewhere quieter?" Bada's gaze was drawn to a distant cloud that appeared to be a bustling city.

"I'd prefer the quieter side," you said, tracing the cloud shapes with your finger. "A quaint cottage with a garden, maybe?"

Bada's eyes twinkled with excitement. "Yes! And we'll certainly have a pet, either a playful puppy or a loving cat."

The thought of a furry pet playing in your envisioned garden made you both grin. The topic moved easily from plans for a dream pet to plans for cooking together.

"We'll make extravagant dinners together," Bada said, her eyes twinkling. "Our own little cooking show every night!"

You burst out laughing. "Absolutely! We'll try recipes from all over the world and create our own culinary adventures."

The laughing mingled with the lovely rustle of leaves in the breeze. Yet, under the surface of the jovial banter and shared objectives, there was an unspoken undercurrent of something deeper, an undiscovered terrain of emotions.

Bada's gaze lingered on the horizon as she continued, her voice gentle. "You know, there are times when I wonder about our future. What it has in store for us."

You turned your gaze toward her, meeting her searching eyes. "I do as well. The unknown can be overwhelming."

In that instant, there was a common understanding, a wordless acknowledgement of life's uncertainties. The link you and Bada shared had weathered many storms, but the future remained a blank canvas, waiting for the strokes of fate.

The need for stability lingered in the midst of the serene surroundings, unspoken but obvious. The longing for a future in which you remained entwined, bound by threads of friendship and hidden feelings, produced a poignant painting against the azure sky's canvas.

"We've shared so much," Bada said, with a voice tinged with nostalgia as she reflected on the events that had shaped your friendship. "I can't imagine a future without you."

Her comments struck a deep chord within you. The idea of a future without her seemed impossible.

"I feel the same," you said, your vulnerability tinted with truth. "The simple idea of not having you around... it's hard to imagine."

The admission hung in the air, a devastating reminder of the depth of your bond and your reluctance to imagine a future apart from each other.

Bada moved in closer, her hand resting on yours in a gentle hug. Her touch imparted a warmth that went beyond words, a gentle reassurance in the face of uncertainty.

"I want to dance more in the future," Bada said determinedly, her eyes blazing with unflinching passion. "I want to express myself through movement."

"That sounds amazing," you said with a sweet smile on your lips. "You're a fantastic dancer." I see you achieving so much."

Bada locked her look on yours, a closeness in her eyes that told volumes. The space between you seemed to vanish in that quick moment, leaving only the strong connection and shared aspirations that bonded your hearts together.

The desire for stability, the longing for a future where dreams intertwined, lingered evidently in the air. A hidden hope for a future where you remained interconnected in each other's lives felt like an unspoken agreement established in the peace of a sun-kissed meadow amid the soft quiet between whispered vows and unspoken thoughts.

The unspoken promise of a future filled with shared dreams, dance, laughter, and unwavering support seemed to hang in the air as the sun began its descent towards the horizon, casting a warm glow upon your intertwined fingers, a silent yet profound testament to the depth of your bond and the longing to remain intertwined in the chapters yet to unfold.

#bada lee x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bebe #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x oc #bada lee x y/n #bada lee imagines

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