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#idk i felt like doin one ok

kira-fluff · 2 months

Note

I saw the “Sleeping with no pants on” headcanon and was wondering if you could do a pretty setter squad containing Atsumu, Kageyama and Akaashi please- ☁️

sleeping with no pants on | fem!reader x haikyuu!! [pt. 5]

a/n: i was not expecting everyone to be so obsessed with this prompt but I am LIVING for it. I love you guys so much 🩷 p.s. my lovely, atsumu is actually in pt. 1, but I'm going to switch for twinnie osamu, okay? 💕 also I'm so sorry i was gone for so long. busy busy busy working 3 jobs with college. forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. tw: sorta spicy idk

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

osamu miya "hey, 'samu, 'samu." "hm." he replied in a grunt. "'m tired." the two of you had stayed up the entire night trying out new recipes that osamu had thought of when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. so, now here you were at midnight, sprawled out on the couch, exhausted. "'n go 't sleep." "don' wanna drive home." "'n stay." you murmured an acknowledgement, then began slipping off your pants. osamu immediately sobered from his tiredness. "wait, the hell are ya doin'?!" "'m goin' to bed, obviously." "ya can't just take yer pants off with a man in the house!" you let out a little scoff, "oh, get over it." but osamu's mind was already racing. he tried to act cool on the outside, but you were just in your fucking panties and acting like it was no big deal? why were you always so clueless around him??? did you really not see him as romantic material??? osamu couldn't help but stare at the round shape of your ass even as your long shirt covered you. he had scarcely time to begin devouring the sight of your legs when you cleared your throat. "are you.....staring... at me?" he cleared his throat and looked away. "...s-sorry.." you leaned in close, just below his ear. "ya know... if you really wanted it that badly, you could've said something.." you smirked, taking a blanket and covering up your lower half with a conceited smirk, walking away. "h-hey wait! the fuck did ya mean by that?!" he trailed behind eagerly. the rest of the night? well... "just friends" was no longer in either of your vocabulary anymore.

kageyama tobio you friends, after all, nothing more. and you didn't want to make it weird. weirder than it already felt having hidden feelings for your best friend. it getting late after a particularly long study session which involved you trying to drill basic math facts into a brain that only understood volleyball. it was a hopeless endeavor, but you took him getting anything above a "50" as a win. so, you continued to attempt to help him improve his grades. you supposed "attempt" wasn't necessarily the right word, as his scores were generally improving, but sometimes you found yourself wondering if there was really a point to it all after you spent the whole lesson trying to help him relearn everything he misunderstood in the lesson from that day. so here you were, exhausted, with your head down on your table at home, tobio sitting across from you. "hey, kageyama, let's just call it a night." he paused for a moment, then spoke. "....do you want to sleep with me?" if you had any liquid in your mouth, you're certain you would've had a comical spit take. "ah, um, WHAT?" you sputtered, trying to make sense out of what he said. he didn't mean it that way, did he? no, of course not. "it's... late." yep. just offering a place to stay. "it is. but there are still trains. i can take a late one." "just get in my bed." your eyebrows raised. "hey, tobio, a normal person would misunderstand what you just said..." he ignored you. "just sleep with me." your face took on a reddish hue the more times he said it... and he just didn't get it? why was he messing with your heart like this!?!? "um... there are different ways to say that. like... 'want to spend the night?'" "then, spend the night." "why are you being so pushy?" "because i like you." as a friend. yeah. we've been over this. "ok, ok, you've convinced me with the power of friendship. but I'm sleeping on the couch." "no." "yes." "no. my bed has enough room." "not for me!!" you laughed nervously. does this guy even have hormones? like, what the fuck? "....I'm going to go shower. I'll see you in my bedroom." does this guy not understand the meaning of no? still, you found yourself begrudgingly trudging over to his bed, especially after you saw his couch was made with the comfort of a burlap sack. I mean, if he offered, might as well take advantage right? what could go wrong? spoiler: everything goes wrong. you thought he was fast asleep. so, in the stealth of 1000 ninjas, you slid off your sweatpants for the sake of comfort. it wasn't weird, right? oh well. you were tired and damn did he like his room hot. you jumped when you felt him arms wrap around you. then, he stiffened. "...are you not wearing any pants?" "um... maybe..." he sighed. "are you trying to seduce me?" "n-no it's just more comfortable!" he turned you around so you were facing him. "well, whatever you're trying to do, it's working. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep." "wait, is it because I'm making you uncomfortable?" he went silent for a moment. ".... you could say that." "I'll... just put them back on then. sorry. it's just that your room is really hot and-" "can I kiss you?" you blinked in disbelief. "can you what?" "kiss you" he answered without a beat. you spluttered some more as he slowly leaned it, asking for permission, silently this time. you nodded and closed your eyes. sparks flew as his lips moved against your own and you finally understood what he'd meant when he said "I like you". kageyama tobio was head over heels in love with you, and you hadn't a clue. until now. the two of you broke apart. "...can we... do that again?" he asked brazenly. you leaned forward again in reply.

akaashi keiji akaashi would rather die than confess to you the things he woke up at night fantasizing about. you'd likely be especially mortified if you discovered that one of your most embarrassing mishaps was on a frequent replay in akaashi's brain when he fell asleep. he was supposed to be a gentleman, not some gross pervert that looked at one of his best friends like... that. but since it was all in his dreams, it was impossible to "turn off" no matter how many times he tried to think about something else before he went to sleep. and so, let's recall The Incident shall we? he had come to your house late at night and knocked at the door, fully expecting to see you up and awake as it was the early evening. to his surprise, however, you answered the door groggily, eyes still bleary from exhaustion and sleep. the way you looked would be forever ingrained in his mind. you were blinking back the remnants of sleep, wearing one of his shirts. it hung low on you, but not low enough to cover your supple legs and the white panties that peeked out below the hem line of his shirt. you hadn't noticed yet, either. "... what d' ya need...?" you asked tiredly, rubbing your eye. akaashi swallowed harshly, his brain turned into complete mush. "uhh.. uhh...." goddamnit, MOVE YOUR EYES BACK UP TO HER FACE. were her legs always that long? STOP. when he still hadn't answered, you followed his gaze down to your lower half. he still remembers the succession of events as follows: you blushed, stammered, and then slammed the door in his face. you didn't talk to him for a week. after, you finally awkwardly explained that you sleep without your pants on and that you didn't realize you hadn't put anything on when you answered the door because you were so tired. it sucked that you ignored him. and even that you explained yourself. because all it did was bring those... memories... right back to the forefront of his mind. whenever he saw you in the hall and you'd flush and look away, he was immediately brought back to the sight of your bare legs. when you stumbled through your explanation, his mind reeled back to those white panties. and he hated it. what kind of friend looks at their friend that way? but he knew in his heart that what he was feeling for you was beyond sexual attraction when, in his dreams, you smiled at him. and told him you loved him. and so, what if he dreamt a little longer? hopefully you'd forgive him. and maybe someday he could tell you how you made him feel...

#haikyuu!!#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi fluff #Akaashi keiji x reader #hq osamu #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu osamu #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

Don't Go Where I Can't Find You

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 9 (during six year time jump) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—fingering, grinding, sideways sex?? (idk what it's called lol), gentle sex (I think?), unprotected sex (DON'T TRY IT AT HOME), straight (?) people sex, swearing, angst ❧ Word Count: 9.5k

❧ Prompt: "Did you ever even love me?" from the Norman Reedus Whores Discord Prompt Challenge (more info here)

❧ Summary: Daryl hasn't been the same since losing Rick, and though he loves you, he needs to do what he thinks is right: try to find his friend, bring back his body, or die trying. Six months apart is too much to handle, he soon realizes, and something is calling him back home.

❧ A/N: Hiiii how y'all doin... um so like I tried to do angst, smut, and fluff all in one??? And I also tried to knock out several requests in one fell swoop. So I have sort of a bastardization of what @shariiina requested (tho they asked for a big fight and makeup sex which I don't think I quite nailed but I will definitely try do that more accurately in the future), as well as some anon requests for soft/gentle sex and also reader crying during sex. I was ALSO trying to fit in the prompt from my prompt challenge thingy that my Discord group is doing lol so there's a lot happening here. I just hope it turned out ok! I think this is a pretty sweet little story with a steamy lovemaking scene and a pinch of angst. Some cute/funny moments as well I think.

You weren’t there when the bridge fell, but you heard it, and you felt the ashes from the fire as they drifted over your face.

Daryl had shifted past you, not answering you as you asked what was going on. He had that thousand yard stare you’d seen before. You’d seen it when he lost Merle… When he lost Beth… When he lost Denise…

When you grabbed his face with your hands to look him in the eye, asking what on Earth had happened as tears drowned out his vision, you knew what happened. Context clues gave it away, and the ache in Michonne’s wailing as she emerged from behind Daryl, Maggie and Carol supporting her limp, writhing body.

In your bewilderment, you felt Daryl jerk himself from your grasp, retreating somewhere inside himself you couldn’t reach, somewhere you couldn’t follow. His grief was hostile territory for you, though his heart had become a world of comfort and familiarity the past few years.

This excursion was far more intense than what you’d seen from him before, though. Death was a fixture of everyday life for you and everyone else you knew, but Rick’s death was unprecedented. Nothing could compare to the grief in its wake, especially not for Daryl.

For as long as you could, you left him alone. The only reminder of his presence after that was the feeling of his body weight dipping on the other side of your bed. You were surprised he even tried to sleep next to you, but it was the one thing reminding you that he was there.

Only in the morning he’d be gone, a cool, silken expanse of olive green sheets where once his body lay, sprawled out with open arms trapping you so close to his chest for hours on end, until whatever responsibility he had took him away from you.

Now he seemed to leave on his own accord, you supposed. You weren’t sure where he’d gone during the day, but it wasn’t for lack of looking. You found yourself wandering the streets of Alexandria sometimes, in the back of your mind trying to locate a man who didn’t want to be found, but maybe he wanted you to look for him, you thought. You loved him enough to never stop looking.

Each night he slept less and less. After a while, you weren’t sure if the nights were getting colder from the changing season, or if the warmth of his body you usually relied on was getting further from you. One thing you were sure of—autumn was fading into winter, and for the first time since you found yourself in his arms, you were cold.

One morning when you woke up, you were sure he hadn’t been to bed at all the night before. His musky scent of pine and tobacco still lingered, but it was gradually becoming more faint, and your home was becoming a shell, all because he wasn’t in it.

“Daryl,” you mumbled against your pillow, then flipped over in a half-sleep state to face him where he’d be if he were there. After a month of not waking up next to him, you would’ve thought you’d grow used to it by now. You’d never get used to it, not when waking up next to him was all you had to look forward to.

The haze of sleep still deluding you, you reached out to touch him, the empty space of him. Where are you? you heard your inner voice speak. Daryl… come home.

Your eyes fluttered open with reluctance to see he wasn’t there. Again.

But you heard him moving downstairs, that creaking of the old floorboards underneath his feet. You felt his presence when you were awake enough to feel anything. He was home, and that was enough to get you out of bed that morning.

“Daryl?” you called out to him softly, voice still groggy from sleep. Your bare feet were cold against the hardwood floor as you tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, where you saw Daryl’s worn grey backpack sat upon the couch, next to his crossbow.

“Daryl, are you here?”

Approaching footsteps from the kitchen preceded his appearance. He emerged with a few cans of green beans, and a tired, sleepless look upon his face.

You sighed in relief, happy that he was home instead of wherever he went to be alone. Your smile faded when you realized how exhausted he looked, and how red the whites of his eyes were.

You hadn’t been able to touch him in weeks, so when you took the cans out of his hands to place them on a nearby table, he seemed almost startled by your movement.

“You need sleep,” you said, tentatively coming closer and closer until you could rest your hands on his chest, gently moving them up and down against the scratchy fabric of his wool poncho. “Let’s lay down. You’re exhausted.”

His tenseness seemed to loosen under your touch, but his glassy eyes portrayed a different story. Something was off, something more than just grief.

“Sweetheart,” you said, while raising a hand to pin the unruly hairs behind his ears, “what’s wrong?”

He huffed, then removed your hands before turning to pick up the cans. “I’m leavin’,” he grumbled, his back turned towards you.

He moved to the couch to stuff the canned beans inside his pack, then zipped and buckled it tight. Next, he turned to the hallway, retrieving his quiver of bolts he usually used on trips outside the walls.

You didn’t want him to leave. He didn’t have any reason to go out there. As far as you were concerned, his mental health needed to recover from the loss of his best friend, his brother, before he could even think about going out there. Still, maybe it was what he needed, and maybe when he’d come back in a few days like he always did, he’d be more like himself. Maybe it was what he needed to heal.

“When will you be back?” you asked, as you always did.

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze, but not before he made incidental eye contact with you. You looked so innocent, so unaware of what he had planned. He couldn’t hide from it now. Weeks of milling over it in his addled brain had finally accumulated to this moment—telling you, the person he loved more than anything, that he didn’t know when he was coming back. He wasn’t even entirely sure where he was going.

“I was going to make that casserole you like for dinner,” you added. It was better than the silence. “But I’ll wait till you get back. Unless you’re coming back tonight?”

He shook his head. “Don’t wait for me.”

“I’ll always wait for you,” you said, with a soft laugh under your breath. “Just tell me when and I’ll save it for when you come home.”

He went silent again, opting to arm himself with his various knives and utility belts instead of answering you.

It wasn’t like him at all to ignore you, to avoid your touch, to avert his gaze. Maybe when you first met him three or four years ago, but not now. Not after two years of the greatest kind of intimacy two people could share with one another.

You tested the waters, coming closer to touch him and see if he’d recoil again. Your hands held his, disrupting him from looping his belt. A small smile spread across your face, and though part of it was forced, all of it was born out of love for him. He’d told you before that your smile could fix everything for him, so you hoped he meant it.

“Hey,” you said. “I love you, Tarzan.”

The corner of his lip quirked ever so slightly, but something held him back from returning your smile, even if you called him that little moniker you gave him years ago, to reflect the “wild man” he seemed to be. He always felt more at home in the wilderness, it seemed.

What you expected was for him to return the sentiment, to call you “Jane” as he usually did. He only chewed his bottom lip, and watched your hands as they fit perfectly in his.

He only shook his head, a gesture so foreign to you in this circumstance. He should’ve smiled, held your hands tighter, kiss you… Not loosen himself from your grasp, not take his undying warmth away as he stepped backwards, away from you.

Of course, it was hard to react that way. It wasn’t his instinct, and a part of you knew it, but it still hurt. He didn’t want to say what he was about to, or to do what he was about to do, but he had to. At least, he convinced himself that he had to.

“I’m goin’ away,” he said.

“I know.”

“No,” he replied. “I’m goin’ away, and I ain’t comin’ back till I find Rick.”

You stepped back subconsciously, so much so that you couldn’t feel the back of your legs hit the couch. Gravity forced you to sit on the edge, somewhere between disbelief and confusion. None of those words made any sense together, in that order in which he spoke them. It must’ve been an illusion, some trick of the mind orchestrated by the debilitating loneliness that had settled in your heart. To make matters worse, you feared this was just the beginning.

You tried to make sense of it, in a way that allowed the sense of it to become something else—something you could grasp. “Rick’s gone,” you said quietly. “How are you going to find him if he’s gone?”

He shook his head, as if he didn’t know the answer to that himself. He truly didn’t. “I’m gonna find him, dead or alive.”

“Alive?” you asked in bewilderment. “You… You think he’s alive?”

“Never found a body… Blast of the explosion coulda blown him somewhere nearby.”

“Daryl,” you said, “that’s…” Your words failed you then, as they often did when emotions took over. You couldn’t help it—you loved him, and Daryl never lied. If he said he wasn’t coming back, he wasn’t coming back. “You can’t leave.”

“I gotta.”

The lump in your throat was becoming impossible to swallow, and tried as you might, you couldn’t keep your voice from cracking under the pressure. Tears would soon follow, you were certain of it. Still, you were trying to delude yourself, to interpret Daryl’s straightforward words into something that didn’t tear you apart from the inside out.

“But you’ll be back soon,” you said, looking up at him with much more than just a hint of vulnerability in your face. “You’ll come back, even if you can’t find him?”

He lowered his head in silence, then finally replied: “I dunno.”

Your legs lifted you up to full height, a sudden burst of impatient energy seething through you.

“What does that mean?”

“Means I don’t know, (Y/N).”

You shook your head in bewilderment. “You can’t just leave. I mean, I understand you want to find him but… You can’t leave.”

He huffed through abnormally flared nostrils, indicating that he, too, was losing his patience. It wasn’t pure anger, though, in fact there was very little anger inside of him—it was more like dread, sorrow for the pain he would continue you putting you (and himself) through as he tried to justify his reasons for needing to leave, even though he couldn’t really think of any justifiable reason. It was irrational, impulsive, dangerous, inconsiderate… Most of all, he just wanted to get it over with; to rip off the bandage and try his best to ignore the sting.

“I ain’t tellin’ ya again,” he said, in that low, extra gravelly voice that told you he was close to a breaking point. “It’s settled.”

Your lips trembled as you tried to speak, with nothing but a barely audible whimper falling and fading into thin air. Your tears inevitably broke out, but they were muffled as you tried to maintain composure. You weren’t sure why—Daryl had seen you cry countless times, but this time was different. Maybe Daryl was leaving you because you cried so much, because you cared so much. You feared he found you pathetic or overbearing, maybe even annoying.

Of course, no such thing was true, but irrational fears born of insecurity and self-doubt got the better of you. The strain in your face was evident.

“I, uh, I don’t wanna leave,” he said.

“Then don’t!” you suddenly exclaimed, voice weak and faltering. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, then stepped forward tentatively as you approached him. “Or… let me go with you.”

“Nah,” he said quickly. “No way. You gotta stay here where it’s safe.”

“Daryl… I—I can’t. I need you. I love you… How could you say you’re leaving? Doesn’t what we have mean anything to you?”

You hated to ask him that, and you never would’ve unless you weren’t genuinely afraid he felt nothing for you anymore. Of course, it wasn’t that at all—it was the grief that overwhelmed him, called him to take Rick’s disappearance on his already burdened shoulders. In a sense, it had nothing to do with you, but you were the one who was going to suffer. You were the one who’d be left behind.

“You know it does,” he replied, this time voice much more firm and loud, as though he couldn’t even risk the thought of you not knowing that for sure. “This ain’t easy for me, but it’s eating me up inside. I at least gotta try.”

“Then let me help,” you begged, and somehow you’d gotten close enough to take his hands in yours. If you got desperate enough, you wouldn’t be surprised if you found yourself down on both knees before him. “Please. Just don’t leave me… Don’t—don’t go where I can’t find you.”

“Woman,” he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. He must’ve known how you melted when he called you that, how easily you could give into him. “Don’t go lookin’ for me. I need you right here.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to flood your cheeks with tears. “I need you here,” you said. “I just don’t understand how you can do this after everything.”

You stepped back, gently yanking your hands from Daryl’s grasp until you stumbled back onto the sofa. You sat there staring straight through his face, which had sunk as the grim reality of his decision came shattering down upon him.

He wasn’t sure what was worse: being away from you indefinitely, or leaving you hurt like this.

As you held your head in your hands, you thought back to all the times Daryl had said he’d never leave you, in the same breath as the words “I love you.” Now that he was leaving you, without a return in sight unless he found Rick, you wondered if those words really meant anything.

“Did you ever even love me?” you asked sincerely.

It wasn’t that you wanted him to prove it, or to feel guilty for what he was doing, but you genuinely didn’t know anymore, and that uncertainty terrified you. You’d built your whole life around him the last few years. You’d made sacrifices, compromises, choices that were predicated on the belief that you were going to be with him forever. Was it over now? You had a feeling Daryl didn’t even know himself, all he knew was what he thought he needed to do, and that your relationship would have to hang in the balance until he accomplished his self-assigned task.

He swallowed hard, making sure he didn’t cry when he opened his mouth to speak. “I never stopped loving you,” he said. “I never will.”

That was six months ago now.

Six months since he’d seen you, six months since he’d held you, six months since he’d heard you say, “don’t go where I can’t find you.”

He hated that he’d done just that, and he quickly realized that his decision wouldn’t ease the pain of Rick’s disappearance.

All it did was render him lonely. Much more lonely than he’d ever felt in his life.

Still, he gave himself a mission, a responsibility to find Rick alive or dead. There were questions that needed to be answered, and Daryl didn’t leave any stone unturned.

He went where you couldn’t find him, though you didn’t try to find him. You were convinced he didn’t want you, that there was more to his leaving than just finding Rick. He didn’t love you anymore, and you still found yourself wondering if he ever did.

Around the same time he left, though, you noticed you couldn’t find one of your blouses—the cream colored peasant blouse with lace trim and cinched waist. You hadn’t worn it in some time, since it was one of Daryl’s favorites on you, but its disappearance drove you crazy, since you couldn’t think of where it had gone to.

That blouse had lived a more interesting life in the past six months than you had, as it lay neatly folded at the bottom of Daryl’s pack, the only thing he had to remember you by.

Perhaps he should’ve told you he took it, knowing you were rather sentimental about your clothing, but in the emotional minefield of that morning he left, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. He spoke very little that day, and he regretted not telling you everything he wanted to.

So now, sitting beside a rocky creek in the last golden light of the late spring afternoon, only the gentle sound of trickling water and birds chirping sweetly in the trees, he thought of you.

He always thought of you, especially with the weather warming up, knowing how much you loved to wear your sundresses and sandals.

You’d frolic around the house, opening the windows to let in the soft, subtle spring breeze and the twinkling sound of the wind chimes. When he was home, you’d somehow get him to lay on the couch, your body snuggled up to his as you both fell asleep to those wind chimes, on an afternoon not unlike today.

He could practically taste the sweet and sour lemonade you squeezed fresh from the tree that had grown outside the walls, but hovered over just enough to allow ripe yellow lemons to fall on the shady grass below, waiting for you to pluck them up with a delicate hand in the safety of Alexandria.

In his hands, he held your blouse, absentmindedly caressing the fabric between his fingers. He had taken great care not to let the lifestyle he’d been living the last six months tarnish or tear the thin fabric, as he fully intended that someday he’d return it to you.

He didn’t know when that day would come, which was why he couldn’t promise you he’d return, but for weeks, he’d felt home calling back to him. In fact, he was sure it’d been calling to him since the moment he left, but now he allowed himself to hear it, those dainty chimes on the wind, drowning out the sound of the creek before him.

He didn’t take your blouse out of his pack often. There was no way he’d risk staining it with his filthy hands, or let the well-preserved, lingering scent of your perfume wear off, but lately he found himself sitting here, not far from his camp, holding that shirt.

Did you ever even love me? The phrase rang out in his head, echoing in the empty cathedral of his mind.

The fact you even had to question it devastated him beyond even his own comprehension. What was worse was how he left without really proving it, without actions to mirror his words.

I never stopped loving you, he’d said. I never will.

He’d played that scene out in his head with every possible chain of events, but nothing could stop him from remembering what he had said, and the fact that what he said simply wasn’t enough.

Stupid, he thought to himself. I’m so fuckin’ stupid.

Six months of searching for a missing man, and he had nothing to show for it but a few dead ends. If he hadn’t found him now, he was never going to find him. He had told himself he’d never stop looking, but something had struck him just then, when he milled over your words once more: don’t go where I can’t find you.

If he kept looking for Rick, he’d be lost, too. It was time to go home.

He walked longer than he had in some time, long enough for day to stretch into night. The guards at the gate nearly couldn’t recognize the hero of Alexandria, face shrouded by a tattered hood and smeared with several layers of dirt and blood.

Only the crossbow on his back gave away his identity, as well as the gruffness of his voice. The gate opened for him with a familiar rattle, and quickly the routine began to settle in once again, as though he’d never left.

As his aching feet carried him towards the house he once shared with you, he found himself wondering if you were still there, or if you’d moved to a smaller home. His question was answered when he spied your muddied yellow rain boots sitting outside the front door, and your hand painted welcome stone on the front step.

Thank goodness he’d never lost his house key—he kept it on a long string of twine so he could never not find it.

As he turned the key and pushed open the door, he was overwhelmed with the scent of something he vaguely remembered coming from the kitchen, where the oven was still warm from dinner that evening.

Hunger overwhelmed him, and made him instinctively head to the fridge, where a recognizable casserole dish was sitting on the top shelf, still warm.

He didn’t notice he let out an audible grunt of hunger before he bent over to pull the dish out and set it on the counter. Peeling back the tin foil, a smattering of potatoes, cheese, garlic, and probably a myriad of other spices and vegetables you’d thrown together, greeted him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cheese, or anything moderately tasty, but it must’ve been before he left, certainly it was something you had made.

As he shoveled spoonfuls of lukewarm food into his mouth, he realized you had inadvertently made good on your promise: you had that casserole ready for him when he got back.

Turning to face the clock on the wall, he narrowed his eyes to see through the darkness: 10:37 PM.

You must’ve been asleep upstairs, and plopping himself onto that bed alongside you was just about the best possible thing he could think of right now. He trudged up the stairs, with each step careful not to wake you. He was worried about how you might react to his sudden appearance after so long away, but at the same time, he couldn’t wait to see you. He couldn’t think straight enough to work out the logistics. What if you woke up before he did, and what if you were terrified of his sudden presence? Perhaps you wouldn’t even want him in your house, after so long of not seeing him. Still, there was no indication that your relationship was over when he left. He assumed it was an unspoken agreement that if and when Daryl returned, you’d pick up right where you left off. He only hoped that was a correct assumption.

Sure enough, you were asleep, without the light of the lantern by your bedside table which you used to leave on for him to return. As such, he could hardly see you, your features just barely illuminated by the cool, indigo-tinted light of the moon streaming in through the window.

In the warmth of the night, you must’ve kicked off your blankets, as your sprawled out body was outlined only in the thin cover of the sheet. He smiled to himself, remembering how much of a restless sleeper you were, always tossing and turning so much that you’d end up tangled in the blankets, and sometimes he’d wake up with your hand dangling over his face. You were even more restless when he wasn’t there, since his arms holding you close to his body seemed to keep you from moving around too much. That, and the comfort he provided you with was enough to lull you into the deepest, most undisturbed sleep.

As he stripped himself of his vest and shirt, he remembered how filthy he was, covered in grime and tree sap and dried walker blood. He was ashamed to admit he hadn’t had a proper shower in weeks, and if you’d been with him, you would’ve made sure he bathed at least every other day, but he’d been alone for so long, left to his own devices, and his less than sanitary habits.

But a shower sounded almost as good as sleep, so he turned towards the bathroom door, gently closing it behind him as he entered to light the lantern next to the sink. Routine—it was all coming back to him. He had tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy out there in the woods, but he quickly learned that it was nearly impossible, what with the nomadic nature of his lifestyle, moving from camp to camp, never staying in one place for too long. As much as he was used to living like that, he hated it. It made him feel more like an animal than a human.

Tarzan, he remembered you calling him. Somewhere between man and beast. Right now, under the gentle stream of the warm water, as he struggled to comb his fingers through the large knots in his wild, disheveled hair, he never felt more like he was trying to regain his humanity, to wash the wilderness from his body.

He raised his hands to rub his face vigorously under the splashing water, and proceeded to further claw at the tangled clumps of chestnut waves on his head.

“Damnit,” he sighed under his breath. It was so much easier when you did it for him.

Remembering the existence of shampoo and conditioner, he turned to reach for the bottle of homemade “hair stuff,” as he called it. When he removed the cap, a fragrant burst of sweet pea and lemon awakened his senses. Oh, it was just like he remembered, just like the smell of your hair.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbled under his breath. “My girl.”

He’d missed lathering his hair with your little concoction, but even more than that, he missed the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, and the sound of your voice so close to his ear as you asked him about his day. Maybe you��d accidentally tug on his hair a little too hard as you tried to get out the knots, but he’d never complain. Not when even the pain felt so good.

Soon his head was drenched in white bubbles and soapy lather, cleansing his mop of brown hair and removing the blood and dirt that had somehow found their way into his wavy locks.

When he washed out the shampoo, he squeezed a hefty dollop of conditioner into his palm, and smoothed it through his less tangled hair to get the real stubborn knots out. It felt wonderful to finally be clean, but that was just his head. His body still needed tending to.

You must’ve still been getting those handmade bars of rose petal soap from the neighbors, since the sweet floral scent quickly wafted into his nostrils as he held it in his hands, rubbing it between them to make a thick lather.

As the conditioner settled in his hair, he dragged the soap languidly across his chest, paying extra attention to his underarms, which surely needed it.

His hands trailed down with the soap to his abdomen, circling around his navel. It’d been so long since his stomach felt full. His belly protruded more than usual, too, a sight that was welcome as he looked down to see the dirt washing off of him.

Next was, of course, his nether regions, where he’d felt an irresistible urge since the moment he saw you, even if he could hardly make out your face. He knew you were just as beautiful as ever, and that he wasn’t entirely sure how he could sleep in bed with you without getting lost in his lustful thoughts.

He could already feel the tingling sensation surge through him as he ran his soapy hand along his shaft, paying extra care to the tip and all the crevices.

“Shit,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against the tile wall. It had been so long since he touched himself. In fact, he was sure he never really had time to do it while he was out in the wilderness, constantly in danger.

That didn’t stop him from thinking of you, though. All those lonely nights of shallow, dreamless sleep without the softness of your body he’d gotten so accustomed to holding. Too often had he found himself reaching for empty air, or whispering your name in the haze of his exhaustion. On particularly desperate nights, he clung to your blouse, burying his head in the bundle of fabric like it was a burial shroud as he unzipped his pants to just barely touch himself over his underwear, but that was long ago, and lately he had to reserve his yearning to simple thoughts and memories, making it all so much more potent. He needed you.

Without entirely meaning to, he gripped tighter around himself as he made longer and more intentional strokes. Soon the soap in his other hand must’ve slipped from his grasp, and he leaned forward to catch himself before the sudden pleasure of his touching became too much to bear.

He flinched slightly as his forehead pressed against the cool wet tile of the shower wall, one hand outstretched above his head, the other now tugging harder and faster on his cock.

When he became more aware of his body and its movements, he slowed his pace, opting to thumb at his tip in gentle circles as he took a deep breath. He felt the water hitting his back, heard the heavy pitter patter of droplets hitting the tile below and pooling around his feet ever so slightly. Funny how one could feel so alive, so human, in such a simple way.

And yet, he could hardly bear to allow himself that simple, human pleasure of intimate touch. How could he do such a thing when he’d left you alone for six months? The shower could cleanse his body, but not his mind.

Still, he allowed his fingers to trace gently along the semi-hard surface of his shaft, as once your fingers had done the same. “I love you, Tarzan,” your voice echoed in a distant memory. He nudged his forehead in small circles against the tile, as if it could ever feel like your warm, soft body, curled up against his as he held you like he always used to. Why did he ever stop?

Always trying to find something. Always trying to save someone. Always the hero.

The longer the water ran, the more he returned to the reality of his situation, and the more he realized just how exhausted he really was.

He crept out of the bathroom slowly, careful to hold the lantern close to him so as not to wake you with its light. His sore legs seemed to carry him to the bed—his side of the bed, the one that you’d left deserted for six months, as if you knew all along this night would come, that someday he’d come back to you.

What on Earth was he thinking? He could’ve slept on the couch, he could’ve slept on the front porch, for crying out loud, but would it be so bad if he slept here, where he belonged? Weren’t you still his, anyway? Please, still be mine.

If you were awake, he’d beg you, but you weren’t awake, and he’d spent too long having one-sided conversations. He just needed sleep, or you, whichever one he could have. If it was only sleep, he would take that gladly.

Though it was tempting, he had to admit. Tempting to wake you up. Tempting to gently rub your shoulder until your eyes shot open as they always did, an old habit from living on the road. Tempting to engulf you like quicksand until your body melded with his, for the first time in so long. Tempting to rid you of that silky button-up nightshirt he immediately recognized on your body. It looked a little suffocating, a little too modest for his taste. The night was warm, stolid and heavy. Even that sheet seemed too hot, or maybe he just wanted to see your body, that pliant, supple flesh he had once held sensual dominion over.

In your sleep, you’d finally settled into a fetal position, curled up on your side, back facing him. As he set down the lantern on the bedside table, you stirred slightly, a small, breathy whimper escaping your lips unconsciously.

From the indirect light of the lantern, he could finally make out your features—a stinging pain rose up in his abdomen, as he’d almost forgotten how sweet you looked in your sleep. It was something out of a Renaissance painting or a pre-Raphaelite’s hazy daydream. Though he could only see your side profile from his vantage point, your lips parted so delicately as your head moved in adjustment against the softness of your pillow.

He was just about to settle into his side of the bed when he noticed a dark piece of fabric tangled between your arms as you held it close to your chest. Squinting, he lifted his knees to the bed and leaned over you to get a better look, and of course he knew what it was. It was his, after all.

Aw, sunshine, he thought, watching your fingers curl and indent the fabric of his old black t-shirt he used to sleep in on cold winter nights. He could even make out some of the holes, in the same old spots.

Overwhelmed with love, he let himself lay down as close to you as he could without waking you, he’d hoped. His arm’s old muscle memory immediately kicked in as it draped itself gently over your side, a movement he was quick to take back when he felt your body flinch and heard your breath hitch in unison.

Sleep hadn’t quite lost its hold over you as you mumbled out something incoherent. You’d felt his empty presence before, especially when his name echoed in the atmosphere of your dreams on a nightly basis. By morning, you wouldn’t remember them, only blurry glimpses and long lost sensations.

In your mind, you always knew that slight weight around your waist was nothing but a phantom limb, but in your heart, you’d always bring yourself to look over your shoulder at his side, where he never was. Until tonight.

When you lifted your gaze ever so slightly, you swore you saw a faint glimmer of familiar blue eyes nestled between dark strands of freshly rinsed hair, though it couldn’t be, you thought.

Still, in your transitory state between consciousness and sleep, you mumbled his name under your breath, almost unintelligibly: “Daryl…”

Though he looked much clearer than he usually did in your dreams, you were quick to dismiss the dimly lit, shadowy figure beside you as nothing more than a lovesick illusion, so you turned and buried your face in the shirt you’d been clinging to every night since Daryl left, not knowing that he was right there, only wanting to hear your voice again.

“Hey, Jane,” he said softly, then reached his hand out to touch your shoulder as you flinched yourself awake.

“Oh... my god,” you said groggily. “Daryl?”

His body didn’t give yours the chance to turn to face him. Instead, he aligned his chest snugly to your back, and tucked his arms tight around your sides until you were fully stuck in his grasp.

Rendered silent, you shook your head in disbelief as you felt his lips hungrily latch onto your exposed neck, while his hands slid along your side in a desperate attempt to remove the sheet draping your body.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had come over him, whether it was the sound of your voice or the feeling of the warmth radiating from your body, but all he knew was that he had no immediate desire to explain himself, or to excuse his actions, if they could ever even be excused, all he could say, repeated in breathless sweeps of his nearly tear-soaked voice, was: “I’m sorry.”

Between each apology, his lips found a new part of your skin to soak with saliva from his frantic open-mouthed kiss.

The more you felt his lips tremble against your heated skin, the more your heartbeat thundered in your chest, and the more you couldn’t care less if he was sorry or not—six months without him, without love, made you ravenous for touch, and his touch alone.

When your shock and relief at his presence subsided, you reached back to squeeze his hand as it grasped firmly onto the fabric of your nightshirt, nearly tearing it in his reckless desperation.

You had barely even seen his face, but you felt his body and his presence with you in the darkness of your room, so it was enough to know he was there, that he loved you enough to come back home to you. Whatever anger and confusion you had was still there, but what consumed you was the very essence of him, the only thing you’d wanted for the past six months.

“Mm, Tarzan,” you hummed sleepily, bringing his hand to your chest to cup your breast.

You felt his chest heave against your back, and the scent of your shampoo in his hair made you smile as you bit your lip, trying to hold back the happy tears and save them for later.

His hand squeezed your breast gently, but just enough to elicit a deep sigh from your lips. The erection growing in his underwear was becoming unavoidable, and that hardness pressed up against your bottom made you shiver in need. Your body squirmed and writhed so much he hissed between his teeth, burying his head in the crook of your neck, where his tongue traced circles under your ear.

Heat spread all through your body, until you were uncomfortable under the thin fabric of the sheet. With a huff, you kicked it off you, and Daryl’s hand didn’t waste a second to reach over your waist and palm at your clothed mound. You’d forgotten how strong he was—the pressure of his heavy hand pulled you even closer to him, and sent a small shockwave through your touch-starved body.

Both of you felt so delicate, like thin sheets of glass ready to shatter at the slightest touch. When his hand fondled you there again, you let out a sharp gasp as you reached down to hold your hand over his. “Yes…” you sighed. “Touch me… Don’t stop.”

He put more pressure on his palm as his fingers circled above your underwear, right over that sensitive little bundle of nerves he used to be so good at stimulating. His fingers were still just as good as they had once been—maybe even better from months of using them so much more than he had before. They were nimble and precise, yet somehow still heavy and bulky in shape. You’d never known such perfect fingers before, or such hands that could caress your body with the utmost love and respect.

Even in his desperation to touch you, to make love to you, he always held you like he could wait an eternity for you if he needed to—there was never any rush to his love, it was always slow and sweet, tender and soft. If you stopped him now, told him to get out of your house and to never see you again, there was no doubt in his mind that he’d respect your displeasure with him and his absence, but you didn’t pull away. Maybe a part of you wanted to, wanted to torture him and put him through the same pain you went through when he left, but something told you that he had gone through that same pain, too, that he never wanted to leave you, but he felt he had to.

You always knew he loved you, and here he was—proving it.

As his mouth sucked on the skin of your neck, you maneuvered his hand until his fingers slipped underneath the fabric and tickled your outer lips. His hand stilled for a moment, allowing you to use it to your liking. You used it to spread your lips, and encouraged his fingers to enter you slowly, all while you writhed purposefully against his palm, hitting your sensitive spot.

He groaned lowly in your ear as the feeling returned to his fingers, and he didn’t hesitate to dig deeper, two fingers curling up inside you until you whimpered in satisfaction. “Oh, God… Daryl.”

The weight of your leg being placed atop his as you tried to spread yourself out more caught him off guard, and his fingers dug deeper, sending you writhing and whimpering from the pressure. He felt your tightness squeezing all around his thick fingers, soaking them as you became more aroused.

“Don’t remember you bein’ this tight, sunshine,” he whispered into your ear between kisses. “You’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

“Mm, put it in me,” you said, voice strained as your core rutted against his hand to increase the pressure. You bent the knee of your outstretched leg and grounded your foot on the bed, stretching your entrance as much as you could. “It’s been so long.”

He grunted in agreement as he pulled out his fingers to raise them to your clit once more, circling it in slow, rhythmic motions.

“I ain’t never stopped thinkin’ of you,” he said. “I missed you… God, I missed you, woman.”

You smiled and reached down to tug off your panties, while he moved to yank himself free from his own underwear.

Quickly you found yourself reaching back to grasp his hard shaft, pulling it to your folds where you pressed his tip to your clit. His chin pressed firmly to your shoulder, he watched you stroke his cock against your slit, which you dragged back and forth along his now aching shaft.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your neck. “I ain’t gonna last long.”

“Me neither.”

His hips jutted forward and backward, gently rocking himself against you. Each movement hit your clit and forced a heavenly sigh from your lips. Daryl had tried with all the mental fortitude he had to recreate that sound in his head, but your voice was like honey, coated in sugar crystals and dripping from your succulent lips. He hadn’t known sweetness like you and your body for so long, and he knew with every surge of tingles that ran through him that he couldn’t keep himself from his release for too long.

You gasped when his cock entered you slowly, breaching your entrance and burying itself in your tightness. Now you could feel just how incredibly close you were to bliss—only a handful more minutes of touching and penetrating would relieve you of your need.

“Oh, God!” you cried out in a gasp. “I—I… Oh…”

You felt his cock remain still inside of you as he caught his breath, trying to pace himself. His hand massaged your breast with tender, circular movements, comforting you.

You bit your lip and shut your eyes tight as you writhed gently to feel more of the pressure of his tip on that tingly spot inside you.

“You all right?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine… I think I just… forgot how big you are.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked with a smile, slightly more cocky than his usual one-sided smirk. He slowly pushed himself deeper, his cock curving more and more inside of you. The warm, confining walls of your body clenched around him on their own accord as they adjusted to his sizable thickness. Your body had been so used to it before, but now it was almost foreign, like your first time all over again.

“So… tight,” he grumbled against your shoulder. Letting go of your breast, he snaked his hand down to your clit, moving his fingers with increasingly fast pace. “Want you to come on me… Want ya to get this cock all soakin’ wet… like a good girl.”

You giggled under your breath. After all this time, you’d still never get used to Daryl’s dirty talk, but you loved it—the way his gruff, scratchy southern drawl made those sinful words sound so sweet and nearly angelic, yet with a deep, growling animalism in the pit of his stomach.

“Mm, don’t stop,” you sighed. “I’ll… come for you.”

“You better.”

His hand applied more pressure to your outside as his cock buried deeper inside you, going all the way until his hilt hit your bottom. You stretched your leg further behind him, allowing more room for the girth of his cock, though still you were so constrained around him, a feeling that had him gasping for air between heavy, breathless breaths.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so good.”

He moved as rhythmically as he could as he lay on his side, with your leg wrapped behind him and your bottom on his lower abdomen, causing him to strain. His feet anchored him, allowing his hips to thrust in steady, consistent movements. There was just enough pressure on you, just enough to get those shockwaves of bliss pumping through you as he got you closer to letting go.

The more he penetrated you, the more your body soaked him in arousal, allowing more comfort for your orgasm to soon take over. As his hand applied more pressure, you grinded yourself against his palm in a desperate attempt to get more of that sweet tingly feeling.

“Easy, girl,” he whispered in your ear. “It’s all right… I got ya… Your man’s got you. I’m home.”

“Daryl…” you whimpered shakily. “Oh, Daryl… Don’t you… ever leave me again.”

“I won’t. I got you, sunshine. Let me make you feel good, just like I used to.”

Even he was starting to crumble the closer you got to relief, and as he pleasured you, inside and out, you shut your eyes tight and felt the incoming surge of pleasure about to send shockwaves through you. Still, you weren’t quite there, and the agony of wanting that sweet feeling to send your body into unrestrained convulsions was so potent that you couldn’t stand it anymore. Your sensitive, supple body couldn’t stand it anymore.

Tears began to roll down your cheek, seeping out from between the tightly closed lids of your eyes and falling into the corners of your lips until the taste of salt melted onto your tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, tears breaking your voice. “I need…”

“What do ya need?”

“I need to… to come.”

“You will.”

His hand gripped your mound hard and hit harder at your clit, sending you into a whimpering state of frantic writhing and panting. “Please…”

“I’m here… I got ya.”

The glass shattered when you least expected it, but it was so mind-numbingly good that you flung your head back onto his shoulder, while your body writhed and rocked back and forth in pleasure as each wave of bliss surged through you. “Yes!” you cried out. “Oh, yes… Oh, God…”

He held still inside of you as your walls clenched and squeezed around his aching cock, swollen and just about ready to burst inside you. Each pulse has him groaning against your scalp, where he’d buried his face in your hair. “Shit,” he groaned. “You’re gonna make me come, too.”

As your high subsided, you unfurled your leg and rolled more completely onto your side, careful not to let his cock go. He clung to you, his arms around your abdomen as he refused to release you from his grasp. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t leave again—he knew that from the moment he decided to come back home.

Without a word, he thrusted deep inside of you, moving at a more desperate pace. He kept his arms hugging around you, with his hand placed firmly on your stomach, where he felt his body meeting yours.

“I love you,” he panted in your ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, Daryl… Come inside me.”

He groaned just at the thought—the thought of filling you in the most sensual, intimate way possible, and watching it all trickle out, the proof of his love for you.

One more deep thrust and he felt the final pulse trail down his shaft, into the tip, and out into you, his moans and “ah’s” of relief sinking into your shoulder as his teeth dug a small imprint.

Your sigh of pleasure broke out into a breathy, delirious laugh, the feeling of his spend tickling you from the inside and heating you up with its warmth. He held you close by your waist as his hips kept thrusting, eager to drain every last drop inside of you.

He must’ve had so much built up inside of him, so much pent up need for release—his explosion never seemed to end. He was writhing against you, dragging heavy, open-mouthed kisses along the nape of your neck.

“Mm,” you sighed, rubbing your stomach as if you’d just eaten the best meal of your life. “You still got it, Tarzan.”

He blushed and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “Ain’t nothin’ without you, Jane.”

You turned your head till your lips met his, for the first time in so long. His tongue snaked languidly into your mouth, and yours did the same, until you pulled away, with your tongue circling over his lips.

You studied his face in the dimness of the dark room, and that sorrowful look in his eyes reminded you of your own sadness, the one that had left such a bitter taste in your mouth for so long. Daryl might’ve filled you up with sweetness again, but you wouldn’t forget how he left you.

“You jerk,” you said, much to his surprise. “You left me… I thought you’d never come back.”

“I—I know,” he said, tangling his hand in your hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” He trailed off, not sure what else to say. He never had a way with words, and he was hoping he’d proven it with his actions. “Shoulda never left. Shoulda stayed right here, with you.”

You shook your head and turned your body towards his, finally seeing him in full. It reminded you of long nights laying in bed together, talking endlessly until the sun came up, or until one of you fell asleep, usually you. Only now, instead of talking about the future, you spoke of the past, of the moment Daryl broke your heart, and his own, too.

You soon found your cheeks were soaked in tears, and his hand quickly moved to catch them. You’d cried so many times since he left, always wondering where he was, if he’d found Rick, if he was even alive. You yearned for his touch, for his thumb to brush away the tears and for his lips to kiss them away until there were no more tears left to cry.

Now, he was finally here, you just weren’t sure how to deal with it.

“I know… I know that you love me,” you said. “I know that. I just wish… I wish I would’ve wrapped myself around your ankle and made you stay.” You laughed through your tears, and he smiled, too, just a little, at the thought. “I think I loved you too much to do that… You weren’t happy. You did what you needed to do. I understand that. I mean, I didn’t like it, but I understood it.”

He shook his head. “Nah, don’t make excuses for me. You should be mad… Shoulda kicked me outta this bed.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, still tearful, but clouded now by happy tears, not sad ones. “I don’t think I could ever kick you out of bed… But I’ll tell you one thing.” You wrapped your wrists loosely around his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead touched yours. “Next time you leave like that, you might not have a warm bed, or a woman, waiting for you when you come back.”

He nodded seriously, his damp bangs tickling your nose as they fell into place. “Yes, ma’am. Don’t gotta worry about that, though. Told you, I ain’t ever leavin’ again.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, giggling at your own emotional state. “Good. Sometimes, I felt like going out there, try to find you. Almost did once or twice. Michonne stopped me. But you know, I knew I wouldn’t be able to find you anyway.”

He sighed, the cruel sting of guilt stabbing him in the side. His chin lifted to rest on your head, as his hand moved to stroke your back, replacing your nightshirt to cover your bottom half. “You don’t belong out there,” he said. “Neither do I. I know that now. Just… had to try.”

“I know. Hero complex. I think that’s just one reason why I love you so much.”

You leaned up to kiss his forehead, nestling your nose in his scalp, where you got another good whiff of your shampoo. “Did you take a shower just for me?” you asked, slightly blushing at the idea. Of course, you knew he probably would’ve taken one anyway, but a part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, he did it for you, knowing how much you loved him when he was clean.

He shrugged, his lips curling into a small, wry smirk. “Well, uh… Maybe. Knew you wouldn’t want me dirtying up the place.” He looked around the room, the light of the lantern behind him casting a shadow of your curved figure on the wall. Not much had changed at all since he left, other than a few of the trinkets he had brought back for you being on full display on your shared dresser. Absence really did make the heart grow even fonder, though you were always certain you couldn’t love Daryl anymore than you already did.

It reminded him of the shirt he had seen you clinging to as you slept, and how he, too, kept one of your shirts for just the same purpose. “You sleep with my shirt every night?” he asked with a slightly mischievous raised eyebrow.

You huffed. He knew the answer to that question, you could tell. “Don’t make fun,” you said. “I missed you. You’re important to me, and… sometimes, that shirt felt like all I had left of you.”

He swallowed back the lump in his throat that formed at your words, and he knew if you said anything like that again, his heart would break into a million pieces. Not only because he had put you through this, but because he knew the feeling, too. He knew the fear that he would never see you again, the uncertainty of it all.

“I, uh… I got your shirt, too.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Huh?”

“Well, uh…” He cleared his throat. The slight embarrassment of his sentimentality made him flustered. “Ya know, I… mighta taken that white shirt with me.” Another pang of guilt knocked the wind out of him. He had taken one of your favorite shirts, for his own benefit, what kind of man was he? “I’m sorry. I shoulda asked, or—”

You laughed and squeezed him tight, nestling your head in his shoulder to kiss the junction of his neck. “That’s so sweet,” you said, choking up once again. “Sweetheart, do you have any idea how crazy I was, tearing this place apart looking for my blouse? I thought it just… grew legs and walked out of here, never to be seen again.”

“Well, I kept it in perfect condition,” he said. “Good as new. No stains, no rips, nothin’. Like it never left.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

✏ Taglist

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead smut #twd smut

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jadedrrose · 8 months

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WOW!! im that anon that got rambly and wrote rhat lil thing im glad u liked it that much!! maybe ill post future ones since i have lots of wips and. ill just do that since its also easier to read instead of yknow reading it from an ask lolol - also i hope ur doin good!! (btw ofc your works are DELICIOUS too i love everything u make 😭😭 especially ur law works cause... u write him so well,, waiting on the next part of silent reaver no pressure tho!!)

but uhmm,, about virgin law,, (all the other asks have been amazing so far btw 😤😤) idk if u accept doubles,, but feelin really soft and giddy today so this is more fluffy than smutty- what if soft and tender aftercare,,, warm, lovely, sweet cuddles,,, he looks at u like a little puppy with a cute tiny smile after ur both done and awkwardly requests "uhm... c- can I hug you?" laying there on his side, looking at u with the most vulnerable eyes u've ever seen and he just, looks so adorable like. must hold and pamper him with kisses and praises, must tell how much u love him. mustn't let him go. (I WANNA BITE HIM AND TEAR HIM TO SHREDS affectionately must cuddle AGGRESSIVELY)

Ok so like I said earlier I’d get to answering this!! And Ik nobody else saw it from the ask I posted but your blog theme is so cute!!!! Please post whatever other Law stuff you got bc that other one was SO good!!! <3 Anyway… here’s a lil scenario for this:

Warnings: kinda short but still sweet, a little nsfw but it’s really just them cuddling and being in love. Implied(?) afab reader

The room is hot, air thick after all the things that had just occurred within it. Law’s mind feels clouded, and yet so clear at the same time- he’s completely blown away by the events from just moments ago.

You’re laid against the soft sheets of his bed, naked body glistening under the dim lights. There’s a satisfied smile on your lips, and you look very content. Your legs are barely spread apart, but it’s enough for Law to catch a glimpse of his cum pooling out from you. A mess he’d have to clean soon.

His body is exhausted and numb, you taking his virginity having done a toll on him physically. But contrary, his mind is entirely awake, buzzing with thoughts about how good you felt, how beautiful you looked, and how pretty the noises you’d made -because of him- sounded.

You look so peaceful, and yet, something about your body language indicates you’re wanting something more from Law. He’s never had to perform aftercare before, so Law’s unsure of where to start. But he figures, a hug can’t be a bad place to start with, right?

“Y/n…?”

Your eyes flutter open, and he loves the way you gaze at him just now. “Yes, Law?”

“Can I… h-hug you?” He asks, meekly.

You giggle, shuffling yourself closer to your boyfriend. Wrapping your arms around him, you kiss Law and run a soft hand over his back, soothingly. “Course you can. You don’t even need to ask, baby.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck, goatee brushing against the skin of your shoulder. It’s a pleasant feeling, your body tingling with want once again. Though, you’re too tired to go for a round two, you think.

Law’s arms slither around your body, hugging your waist and pulling you closer to him. He inhales your scent, still able to smell the lingering scent of sex. But then there’s just you, and Law can’t get enough of that.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice small and muffled against the skin of your bare shoulder.

“I love you too, Law,” you tell him, moving the hand that had been on his back tattoo up to his soft raven hair, fingers playing with the locks to soothe him.

Something about the way your bare body is flush against his, still warm from the physical activities, sweat lingering on the both of you. Your plushy chest pushed into his tattooed one, your soft legs wrapping around his long legs, the way he can feel your lips smiling against his upper neck. Law’s completely and utterly obsessed, loving this feeling despite being so tired. Though the doctor in him wants to get up and clean, take care of you and perhaps take a shower even, Law can’t bring himself to disrupt this moment between you and him, wanting to stay here in your loving embrace forever.

The cleaning part of the aftercare can wait until morning, can’t it?

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader smut #law x reader #law x y/n #law x you #trafalgar d water law x y/n #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d water law x reader #virgin law hcs #law thoughts nsft

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gaybananabread · 4 months

Note

AHHH, ok ok. This is my first time like ordering anything so I’m nervous asf. But I’d like oranges, grapes and cherries with Ler!Jax and Lee!Pomni. Obv everything platonic, and like, go nuts with the plot. (Idk if this is worth mentioning pero I have this silly little headcannon that Pomni squeaks like a squeaky toy when squeezed so like, IF YOU WANT, you can add that.)

IF YOU DONT DO THIS ONE ITS OKK, I rly enjoy your writing and hope you have a great day/ night, tyy <33

Fruit(s): Oranges, Grapes, Cherries

Aww thank you Anon! You’re all good, and love that Pomni would absolutely become a dog toy (¬‿¬). Jax is definitely interesting to write for, and I like playing around with his asshole-ness. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Pomni

Ler: Jax

Summary: Pomni is still getting used to the circus, anxious and uneasy in the new environment. Jax tries to help out, though he does it in his own annoying way.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

In the circus tent, small NPCs ran wild, knocking things over and babbling nonsense. They were like the Gloinks, but so much worse. Caine had dipped on them once again, leaving the characters to fend for themselves. Zooble peaced out, but the others were stuck with them.

It took nearly the whole day, but they had managed to contain the little monsters until Caine came back to woosh them away. For most of the characters, it was weirdly routine. For the newest arrival, however, it was more than off-putting. Pomni just felt…out of place in the digital world. She wandered around the tent, trying to calm herself down.

Jax was walking around, trying to find something to do. He would have messed with Ragatha, but her and Gangle were having some kind of “girl’s day.” Ugh…he wanted no part of it.

Just as he was considering going to explore the forbidden rooms, he heard the faint jingling of bells. Pomni must’ve been “exploring” the grounds again. While she wasn’t his usual target, the jester would probably keep him entertained until something else happened.

The smug and confident smirk he always wore shrank as he approached her. Pomni looked so…so tired. Tired and way too wound up. Still, he sauntered over, trying to gauge just how upset she was. “Hey, newbie. You sane after that horror show?”

Pomni flinched at his voice, taking a second to register what he said; she’d been spacing out for most of the day. “U-uhm…yes? Why?”

He rolled his eyes, trying to act as aloof as possible. “Really? ‘S just that ya look like you’re about to fall apart. Hey, you think that’s possible here?” Jax cared about how she was doing, but he had an image and a rep in the circus. No way he was jeopardizing that.

“Shut up, Jax…” She turned away from him, rubbing her arm and looking down. The girl felt crummy enough; she didn’t have the energy to deal with his junk.

He chuckled, leaning down and getting eye-level with her. Jax was bored, yes, but he didn’t want to see Pomni so down. Might as well try and cheer her up. “Aww, c’mon Pom-Pom! Try a smile; it won’t kill ya!” He reached out, trying to poke her side in an attempt to get her to smile. Before he could even get close to her blue side, she gasped softly and jerked away from his hand. Oh…that’ll work.

The look on his face was a dead giveaway to his plan. “Jax, no! I swear, don’t you even think abo-KYAH!” Pomni was cut off by a sharp poke to her stomach, whatever she was trying to say lost in a squeal.

“Oh, I’m doin’ more than think about it~” Jax’s voice was smug as ever, his gloved hands wrapping around her middle and wiggling them into her sides. The bunny crouched down, just so he could whisper in her ear. “Tickle tickle, Pomni~”

Squeaky and bright giggles bubbled out of her, only making Jax’s smirk grow. Pomni was much less amused, kicking and wriggling around in his grip. “Y-youhuhu prihick! Gehet ohoff mehehe!”

“Nah, don’t think I will.” One fun thing the purple rabbit noticed; Pomni was blushing. Really blushing, so brightly that it put the circles already on her cheeks to shame. So, of course, he called her out on it.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could blush like that, newbie!” He cooed, making sure to poke up and down her ribs as he spoke. “Thought bright red was crybaby’s thing, but you go girl~”

“Sh-shuhut uhuhuhup!” The bells on Pomni’s hat jingled with every sharp jolt and tug, only making the scene funnier. Jax was thoroughly enjoying himself; he had maintained his vibe while also making Pomni smile. True, he was being a bitch about it, but it was working.

Wanting to try something else, Jax clamped both hands firmly on her sides, giving them a nice squeeze. Nothing could’ve readied him for what happened next. “Jahahax! Wouhuld you- *squeak*”

Suddenly, his hands stopped moving, giving her a quick breather as the shock and amusement set in. After a few seconds, a loud bark of laughter escaped him, his voice more playful than it had been the whole time. “No *sproing*-ing way… You squeak?!”

Without any further warning, he dug into her sides, rapidly squeezing them in the hopes of more squeaks. “J- *squeak* COHOHohome ohon! Quihihit- *squeak* JAHAX!” The sound was almost like a dog toy’s squeaker; it endlessly amused Jax, leaving the rabbit wanting more and more of the adorable sound.

“This has gotta be my favorite quirk of yours, squeaky-toy!” He squeezed and poked along her sides, sneaking a quick rib scribble in every few seconds. Best day ever…

“P-PLEHEHE- *squeak* NOHO! JAHAX!” While he was more than enjoying the squeaks and laughter, he could tell Pomni was wearing out. Not wanting to potentially get on Ragatha’s very-bad side, he stopped squeezing the jester. “Alright, alright, no more squeezes. That was fun, though~”

Pomni went almost limp in his arms, trying to catch her breath. She looked up at him expectantly, expecting to be released. Jax only laughed at her expression. “Oh, newbie, no. I never said I was done~” The ever-growing blush on her cheeks made him smile wider, his almost haughty confidence growing.

He tested out her neck, smirking at the surprised giggles he received. “You’re just a walking tickle-spot, aren’t ya? There anywhere you ain’t ticklish?” Deciding to be a bit merciful, he kept the tickling to light scratches, exploring the area.

Much to his surprise, Pomni’s giggles softened, her body going almost slack against his. Jax wondered if he’d managed to kill her for a second, but he soon realized that she was just…enjoying it. Pomni wasn’t trying to push at his hands anymore; she just grabbed his wrists and loosely hung on.

“Aww, Pomni! You like this, don’t ya~?” He continued lightly tickling underneath her chin and the front of her neck, basking in the lazy giggles and lax squeals he got. Jax had no idea how someone could practically melt from getting tickled, but he wasn’t gonna question it.

“Ihihihi- shuhuhut ihit…” Pomni could’ve had a better response, but she was too comfy to try. While he was still tickling her, it felt much more relaxing and nice in that spot. She could’ve stayed there all day…

Quickly realizing the jester was about to fall asleep on him, Jax stopped and patted her back. Pomni took a few shaky breaths, residual giggles still squeaking out in her daze. The bunny boy just chuckled, trying to help her wake up, in a sense. “You’re good, I’m done, wakey-wakey.”

Pomni was tired, though, and feeling like mild revenge. She just leaned into the purple boy, closing her eyes and letting the sleepy relaxation take over; girl was out in seconds.

“...Pomni?” Jax’s smirk slowly fell, his brow-area bunching. She hadn’t moved in a few seconds, though he could see her breathing. Did she… That little-

Seeing her asleep on him felt strangely similar to a kitten napping there. It felt wrong to move… “*boing* it…”

Hopefully Ragatha and Gangle will be done soon…

#kasey's fruit shop #tadc tickle #lee!pomni #ler!jax #ticklish!pomni #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #fruit shop event #the amazing digital circus tickle #tadc #tadc jax #tadc pomni #the amazing digital circus

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avissapiens · 1 year

Text

Avis Abstraction #6: Gym buds

You are now friends with Mason Reed. You can now message and call each other and see info like Active Status and when you've read messages.

Oct 26th 2044

Me: Hey bro Mason: Heyyy dude haha. Nice to finally meet you Me: Same. ngl i was kinda scared about signing up for the abyss. Thought they’d hook me up with someone i couldn’t vibe with.

Mason: lol. Yh i’m chill. Tho you’re lucky. I didn’t even know about that weird chip thing. Shit hurt when they put it in. did you feel like…tingles too?Me: Yh i did. Was kinda like getting an electric shock but good?? Mason: Weird. Guess we’re gym buds now tho. Can’t wait til we can workout. My weeks a little packed but i’ll defo hit you up when i’m headed to The abyss Me: Sweet dude. We can hash out our split and everything another time. Mason: For sure bro.

Oct 29th 2044 Me: Yo dude, are you on your way to the gym? Mason: yeah actually. I just got off work and thought i’d do a really quick chest workout. How’d you know haha? Me: Idk..i just kinda felt it. Maybe that’s one of the chip functions? No clue. I’m already on my way now tho if you wanna train together Mason: Damn dude yeah i’d love that! So strange, as soon as you said that I got super hyped up. Me: Awesome bro. I’m like 5 mins away. You get warmed up and I’ll chug some preworkout.

Oct 30th 2044 Mason: dude what days do you train? I’m thinking bout changing up my work schedule so i can gym more. Last night was the fuckin best workout i’ve ever had in my life! Me: IKR. God i broke so many of my PRs. The pump is insane. Still sore haha Mason: How about we hit it 6 days a week. It was really awesome to just hang and vibe in the gym ya kno. Me: yeah dude i’d be down for that Mason: Sick, i’ll call my manager to see if he can schedule me different. So pumped Me: Nice. So what are we training today bro? Legs Mason: Legs Mason: Yooo basically in sync nice haha. Me: Lol. See you in an hour? Mason: bet

Nov 5th 2044 Me: Yo Mason: I know.. Me: you know what? Mason: I know what you’re feeling bro. I feel it too. But fuuuuck its rest dayyy. I just wanna train with you. This week alone has been one of the best weeks of gym EVER. Idk if its just the chip talking but damn I love training with you. Me: Wanna head to the gym. Just do something light? Maybe get a protein shake after? Mason: Already packing my bags. ------------------------------------------- Dec 8th 2044 Mason: Bro killer workout today. We were fucking monstrous. Mason: I had a chat with the Gym owner and he says we’re progressing faster than the majority of the other Chipped dudes. Me: Yo really? That feels amazing to know fuck…like really amazing. Gotta work harder. Blow away the competition dude 💪💪 Mason: Yeah. Honestly i see it dude. You’re looking fucking massive lately Me: No way brah. You’ve been bulking like a madman these last couple months [Mason Sent a Picture]

Mason: It’s all you bro. Wouldn’t be at this level without your help. Next year’s gonna be crazy.

Jan 6th 2045 Mason: No homo bro, but your pecs are looking so fucking massive. I swear every time i saw you flex em my chip went off like crazy. Just bolting lol. Me: Oh yeah bro 😏? Mason: Yh Mason: Broooo noo stop it shittt i can feel that in my chip. Me: LOL OMG i didn’t know it could do that. That’s so fucking cool Mason: haha..yeah. Just like chill with it ok bro Mason: STOP Me: ok ok lol. These fucking chips are wild bro. Don’t even know how most of the stuff works yet. Me: woah dude wtf are you doin? Mason: I know you’re jelly of my god quads so i was trying to get you back. Guess it worked lol Me:Lol. Fucking love you bro Me: No homo Mason: lil homo? Me: haha Mason: Ya know bro, i’ve got room in my apartment. Maybe we should like room together? It’d make setting up workouts super easy Me: really dude? That’d be great! Lets hash it out some more tomorrow for Pull day. Mason: Totally

March 20th 2045 Me: hey bro.. Mason: Yo dude, wassup? I’m loving spring break in Fiji. Having a great time Me: Thats nice…you gotta get back here bro.. Mason: Wdym? Me: Its torture just like Me: IDK man. I try to keep working out. I try to keep the pump up, but jesus. Going to the gym without you is miserable Me: I feel weaker. Smaller. Fuck i feel like my chip is punishing me every time i enter that building without you. But then when i don’t go it’s like my entire brain is being eaten from the inside Me: It feels so fucking bad. I just wanna kneel and never get up. So hard to keep going Me: Please bro. I know It’s a lot to ask but just hurry home. I miss you. I miss us… Mason: Okay bro. I know what you mean. Hang in there for a few more days. I’ve been missing the pump too and the gyms here don’t really seem to hit as hard as ours anyway. Me: I’ll try. I promise. Going crazy here. Thanks bro Mason: I’ll bring you back something from Fiji. Can’t wait to lift with you again.

-------------------------------------------- May 1st 2045 Mason: Hey dude are you busy? Me: ? yeah bro i’m just out in the living room. Wassup? Want me to come to you? Mason: NO. Don’t Mason: I can’t look at you right now Me: Okay??.. Mason: Idk what it is bro..I think its the chip but fuck Mason: The last few gym sessions we’ve had Mason: I see you and the weight you’re lifting and the progress you’ve made Mason: And then i look at my own progress Mason: And I just get…fucking upset? Mason: Because you’re not progressing fast enough dude. It’s making me look bad Me:Bro wtf?! Mason: Look at this [Mason sent a picture]

Mason:I’m fucking massive compared to you. All the other chipped bros look on par with each other, but i’ve got 15 lbs on your ass. Me: Yeah…i guess.. Mason: We’ve gotta work harder bro. I fucking love you. I can’t have you being weaker than me. It makes me sick. Makes me fucking angry Me: Yeah, we’re chipped for life. There’s no going back Me: FUCK Mason: Feel that? Exactly. You’ve gotta get back on my level bro. Otherwise, well… Mason: I can feel the chip bro. Mason: I don’t like what it’s making me feel Mason: But i’ll act on it if it goes on long enough Me: Thanks bro. I needed this. I’ll be better, I promise…For you. Mason: For us..💙 Me: For us...Can I still come to your room dude? Mason: Sure bro. Calmed down a bit...think we might lose the deposit on the place tho..Ignore the holes..

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

Jul 17th 2045 Me: Bro? Me: Bro??? Me: Mason dude where tf are you i’ve been waiting at the gym for like an hour Me: i’m just gonna start bro. Me: Mason bro wtf’s going on is your chip acting up? Me: Fuck. Fuk bro Me: Stop whatever you’re doing bro thats not funny. Me:Cut it out! Me: Fuck me dude what is this

Jul 18th 2045 Mason: Sorry bro. My bad. Guess i shoulda told you. Me: Tld m wut bro? My chipz ben goin off all fucking nt Me: Fuk can barelt tyoe. Bods liek pulsing. cnt thinkkk Mason: I heard from one of the other chipped dudes down at the gym that there was a guy upstate who’s been jailbreaking the chips. Installing cool new firmware updates. He said he Only needed one of us cause the softwares connected, but i guess you need to go too. Me: WTF bro thts so fucked up! Hw cud u di tht Mason: Tho if i’m being honest. I don’t really need an update. You were the one lagging behind bro. Lets just keep it like this for a bit and see what happens Me: Cnyoujuststopthepingigbro Mason: Haha sorry. I think that’s the roider protocol. Supposed to send a shiver every time your chipbro thinks about getting bigger. Guess i’ve had one thing on my mind all night. My bad Mason: K should be good Me: This is high-key fucked mason. Mason: Wanna go the gym? Me: fuck…yes. Me: I’m getting my gear ready. See you in 20 mins..fucker. Mason: Oh bro btw [Mason sent a picture]

Me: fucking hell bro. Ok 10 mins

The Model for this one is Alex Price. Check him out. And If you want to support the creation of more hypnotic experiences and writing, then you can do so by subscribing to my Patreon, or to my Youtube channel. And if you want to interact more closely with me and my supportive community you can join my Discord server. And check out my file archive on my website.

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georgiaheartsdilfs · 2 years

Note

Love your writing. Could you write a story about reader blurring out that Jeremy is hot. Lots of cute flirting back and fourth.

i hope you meant blurting because idk any other words... but this one is pretty short, sorry if you expected more

Back & Forth | Jeremy Gilbert x Reader

"Hey jeremy" I giggle walking into the Gilbert house, Jeremy was the cute. Elena had asked me to help with her homework tonight whilst she was babysitting Jeremy who was basically an adult.

Elena lead me to the kitchen as the fridge door closes to reveal a shirtless Gilbert brother "Jeremy, clothes we have guests." Elena gasps and I chuckle "What? You girls never seen a shirtless guy before." he chuckles before leaving the room and sitting on the couch.

He turned on the TV, I've had a crush on him for a while but it always felt wrong given his sister was like my sister, I'd do anything for her especially to keep her safe.

he's so hot "y/n" Elena looked towards me "Wait, did I say that out loud?" I ask her and she nods "I could've sworn I said that in my head." I clear my throat turning back to her work.

Reading through it, all I could think about was the younger brother, Jeremy, how insanely hot he is.

Jeremy walked into the kitchen leaning over the island "watcha doin?" he smiles looking at me "just uh- reading over Elena's work, since that's the only reason I'm here for" I smile sweetly to him and he chuckles.

"you thirsty?" he asks "uh no i'm fine" I nod to him as Elena hands me her paper and I read over it "might want to change that sentence it makes you sound opinionated, the teacher doesn't want that." I say instantly spotting a mistake.

Elena nods taking a note down "so how's sports Jer?" I ask him looking up as Elena changes her sentence "it get's hot, but its great." he smiles and i nod "oh I bet" I chuckle softly.

"do you think maybe you could help me with my homework in my room after elena's?" Jeremy says and Elena throws a book at him as he catches it and I giggle "I don't think your sister wants that." I chuckle as Elena hands me her edited paper.

"no i don't but i think i missed the chapter where you two were openly flirting." Elena says looking between her brother and I "we aren't I say looking over to Jeremy who nods "it's just me asking for her help , like you did" he laughs.

"oh wait I need to grab something, when I come back you two better not have gone anywhere." Elena says causing Jeremy and I to laugh in unison.

She runs up the stairs "so, homework." he mumbles, the tv still playing in background and I nod "there's far better things to do in this house." a smirk appeared on that perfect face and I roll my eyes "remind me how old are you?" my voice quiet, so elena couldn't hear us.

"old enough" his voice was quiet too as he goes into the fridge handing me a bottle "i'm not thirsty Jer" i say "you clearly are." he says jokingly and I hit him softly just to feel how much muscle he gained since the last time i 'hit' him.

"we both know why you do that y/n." he cocks an eyebrow sitting in the seat his sister was once in "yeah?" I say as he spins my chair towards him lifting my chin up with a singular finger "yeah" he smiles.

Getting closer to my face, lips only inches apart yet I pull away "don't" I say warning him and he chuckles "yeesh ok" leaning back against his chair.

"you're cute" he says catching me off-guard, my cheeks turning redder than they already are when I'm around him "back and forth back and forth, make out already." Elena groans walking down the stairs with 2 of her history books.

"these were the books I was reading." she says and Jeremy gets up and leaves to go back to the TV.

"what is the deal with you and my brother, back and forth flirting?" she says confused handing me the books and I nod "pretty much" I clear my throat "I'm pretty sure he heard you call him hot" Elena chuckles "I did" Jeremy laughs and I shaky my head disappointed in myself.

"no harm in putting yourself out there." he says opening a bag of chips (crisps, potato chips) before shoving them in his mouth "you find that attractive?" Elena questions me and I laugh "yeah".

The night went on and Elena and I gave up and decided to watch the movie with Jeremy.

After a while Elena fell asleep which let me and Jeremy "I meant it, y/n, you're cute" he whispered still looking at the TV "you're handsome, all the time, you're also still shirtless." I giggle as he wraps his arm around me "yet it still doesn't bother you." he smiles.

"why would it" I giggle and he runs his hand along my cheek until Elena wakes up, he immediately removes it clearing his throat.

She yawns and I chuckle "I better get going" standing up "are you sure it's pretty late?" Jeremy asks and Elena agrees "yeah you can just stay in the spare room" she insists and I nod reluctantly "sure" I smile.

Elena leads me to the spare room before disappearing to her, Jeremy left to he rooms before Elena so he could prove that he was going to bed.

Laying on the bed, my door opens slowly and Jeremy walks in quietly closing the door getting in bed next to me.

"you can't get enough of me can you?" I laugh and he wraps his arms around me "i'm not even your girlfriend." I state and he shrugs "I don't see the problem" he winks.

"you're pretty cute too." I admit and he laughs resting his head on mine "can i just sleep here?" he asks politely "don't you have a room of your own?" I ask him "are you suggesting we move there?" he asks excitedly and I laugh "no, i dont mind but no." trying to be quiet.

"fine i'll stay here" he mumbles snuggling up to me.

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helloitsghost · 1 year

Text

✨Work of art✨

Ok so hi hello how y’all doin I’m posting this at 12:40 am but hush🌚

Anyways

I was talking with @giggly-squiggily bout Pokémon cause we awesome like that and I was going off bout one of my favorite ships in Pokémon

Idk if they have a name I think I’ve seen people call them “eyebag shipping” or smth else I’ll find later but eh

Anyways Larry x Hassel x Brassius fucking epic ass ship 10/10 recommend

And ya girl just had to draw them🌚

So basically hc since brassius and hassle have their own names for each other they def gave Larry the name “ray ray” cause it’s cute

And yeeee lee larry is always nice

except he was a pain to draw actually all of them were a fucking pain holy crap I felt like I faught 20 dragons when I finished but djcjsjcjsjfjdjg

Anyways yeee old gay men I think they’re cute and I love how this turned out🌚

Here’s the text if u can’t read my shitty handwriting

Part 1:

Brassius: “Ah Hass isn’t Ray Ray just so adorable when he’s trying not to laugh?”

Hassel: “Why yes he is dear Brassie but, I think our precious Ray Ray would look much more adorable if he laughed. Don’t you think?”

Brassius: “Why yes I fully agree, wouldn’t you as well Ray Ray? >:3”

Part 2:

Brassius: “Thereeee it is there’s that smile we love so much.”

Hassel: “Ah such a work of art isn’t it Brassie?”

Brassius: “You’re just right Hass.”

#art #digital art #tickle art #pokemon #pokemon tickle #larry pokemon #hassel pokemon #brassius pokemon #eyebag shipping #larry x hassel x brassius #lee!larry #ler!hassel #ler!brassius #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon art

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devine-star · 2 years

Note

Hiiiii okay so I have a smut request for Eddie Munson x ftm reader (I'm 18 years old I promise)

Ok gonna out myself rq: I've never moaned before so I've been thinking

How would eddie react to making his boyfriend moan for the first time or just being loud and vocal.

Idk. I think it's hot. If it's nit your cup of tea then I'm so sorry

Eddie Munson x FTM!Reader

Warning: Teasing, Auralism, service top Eddie,

Note: I have decided to make these headcannons and a little blurb :)) Can ya'll tell me which style you like better third or second person POV? Cause I like both but I dunno man.

-When the two started dating, Y/n wasn't a vocal person in general. -Being a shy guy that caught Eddie's eye as he shyly asked to join HellFire -When Y/n came out as trans, Eddie couldn't have been happier for him! -Noticed Y/n seemed to talk more as he felt more comfortable in his skin!-But when it came to sex, Y/n was as quiet as a mouse! -Gasping and small whines of Eddie's name falling from his lips like they were a prayer. -So the first time Eddie heard those moans slip through his lips; his head began spinning. -He NEEDED to hear more, so, he angled his hips and started thrusting hard encouraging Y/n to moan louder. -Eddie had always been a fan of Y/n's voice. Listening to him read for HOURS is something Eddie would be happy to do so when he hears him moan for the first time? Almost nuts right then and there. -Little did Eddie know the reason Y/n finally let the sounds slide from his throat was due to the testosterone influenced horniness that filled Y/n's mind. -All day at school, Y/n daydreamed about the times Eddie went down on him. -Daydreaming about Eddie dragging him into a broom closet or bathroom just to fuck him sensless before lunch. -- Grunting as Eddie pushed him onto the bed Y/n wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend whispering soft pleas for Eddie to touch him.

"I feel like I'm going insane Eds, PLEASE just touch me!" Eddie would chuckle as he slid his hands into Y/n's boxers to start rubbing circles on his growing dick.

Throw his head back Y/n gasps with eyes closed as his nails dug into Eddie's shoulders as he begged for more.

"You're already so wet baby, been doin a lot of thinking today handsome?" Eddie began shedding them both of their clothes.

Stopping to watch Y/n stroke himself quickly after he grabbed a condom from his dresser.

"Such a needy boy huh?" Y/n nodded his head, repeating what Eddie had just said.

"Such a needy boy for you!" Eddie raised an eyebrow at this. Y/n had never been the vocal type in bed but he wasn't complain as he climbed back over his boyfriend after slipping the condom on quickly.

"Don't worry baby, I'm gonna make you feel really good okay?" Y/n nodded while whining loudly pushing his hips down towards Eddie.

The small whines always drive Eddie insane, but what drove him even more insane was the intense moan that came from Y/n as he pushed himself in.

Eddie stills himself inside Y/n watching him squirm and moan softly as he grinded down onto his cock "Oh fuck," he mumbles feeling his cock twitch at the sound.

Y/n nods before looking up at him "p-please fuck me!" Eddie chuckled as he begins thrusting. The more he thrusted the more Y/n moaned loudly with fingernails gripping the sheets.

"Fuck baby!" Y/n yells arching his back.

Y/n's moans and cries of pleasure spurred Eddie on as his thrusts became rougher; he needed to hear more.

Leaning down so his ear was close to Y/n's ear, Eddie pistoned his hips as fast as he could practically begging Y/n be louder.

"Please be louder baby. It's so hot, no one is home!" Y/n only nods swallowing thickly as he freely let the moans flow out of him; not controlling the volume of them.

Eddie's head was spinning. He was on cloud nine hearing his boyfriend finally moaning his name louder than a soft whisper. Every little moan of his name made him feel closer to his high; he needed to hear what Y/n sounded like when he came.

So, Eddie reached between their body's to start rubbing circles around Y/n's TDick once again.

"C'mon baby," Eddie slurred in his ear before moaning softly. "Cum for me, let me hear you scream my name,"

Due to Y/n's daydreams and the testosterone, Y/n was already close to cumming.

"I'm close baby-FUCK-Please don't stop!" Y/n yells bringing his legs up to wrap around Eddie's waist.

Skin slapping skin mixed with Y/n's desperate moans is all Eddie could hear, his own mind reeling was also bringing him closer to his orgasm.

Just thoughts of Y/n being this vocal all the time and what he could do to keep him this vocal the next time they had sex.

"Fuck" Eddie grunts feeling Y/n pulse around him. "I can tell you're close baby, cum for me!" Y/n once again lifted his back off the bed, pressing his chest to Eddie's as he came, loudly.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Eddie cried his hips stuttering as his balls drew up; cumming harder than he had in a long time.

Fucking them both through their orgasms Eddie then collasped on top of Y/n.

Both men laid panting.

Pushing himself up on shakey arms Eddie looked down at Y/n with a smirk "That was hot as fuck," Y/n blushed laughing a bit.

"Sorry, testosterone has me so fuckin horny,"

"Don't apologize! I came so fucking hard I saw stars dude!" Eddie laughed as Y/n pushed him away.

"Don't call me dude with your dick in me!" They both began laughing.

#Spicytalks #Spicy Talks #Eddie Munson x male reader #Eddie Munsion x male reader smut #Eddie Munsion x FTM reader

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doin-just-fine · 10 months

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What the brain doin?? PT. 5 of a questioning median system's journey

"A very distinct Co-Con moment"

CW: Talks about bringing younger alters up to speed on when and where they are and them being slightly upset by it. Mentions feelings that fit with depersonalization.

I, DoinFine, am always in front, I am never not fronting, so I don't really have memory gaps. For everyone else, they usually just co-con and I'm not sure how their memory is effected yet.

Yesterday I was mindlessly scrolling on tik tok when I happened across this video. I read it and thought, "it's 6 pm it's not bed time yet lol." and as I was about to scroll I stopped. I felt super stimmy in a good way and I played along. At the end of the little video I felt super proud of myself, while at the same time I felt like I was leaning back and watching myself do this, just casually observing. I noted it and moved on. A little while later another video popped up. This one had some kick. I played along and again at the end I felt super proud of myself for playing but also like I was observing this occurrence, fascinated by it.

After finding a couple more videos like that and getting really excited about certain options in the videos and stuff, I just hung out in this childlike feeling for a second.

I've noticed that when Cloud co-cons, we look around the room a lot. Almost like we're getting our bearings as to the environment we're in. However, we never feel like we're lost or confused about where we are and I think this is because I'm always in front and know where I am. When someone joins me the information I have is also given to them so we don't feel freaked out, but they are still taking in the new environment, hence them looking around.

As I sat there with this younger feeling, we started looking around the room. I thought about the concept mentioned above and wondered if thats what was happening. IMMEDIATELY I felt a quiet thought, beneath my observing thoughts, saying/feeling things along the lines of, "I don't know this place, this isn't my room, I don't know where I am." It was strange. It felt like a mix of being confused and a little frightened not knowing or, better yet, not understanding where I was while also knowing exactly where I am, how I got there and why I was there.

I got the sense that if I hadn't thought about my looking around the room theory, they wouldn't have noticed that they didn't actually know where they were, and that only I did. Oh well. They didn't panic too much they felt more confused than anything. I kinda gave a mental tour of where we were and offered visiting the garden as a distraction, which they liked.

I was toying with the idea that this just might be me just age regressing to relax after a long day of fun, kid friendly, things (we went to the beach and swam around). However, as we stood up someone (idk which one of us) noted that "whoa the floors farther away than usual." Now, I would have just written this off as being part of my vertigo (despite it feeling nothing like vertigo). The only reason I didn't is because I remembered what my partner's kiddo's say when they front. They always mention how tall they feel in the body. That they are expecting a shorter point of view when they stand up.

In that moment from being underneaths my bed covers to standing and being confronted with my size, I understood exactly what they have been talking about. So I started treating this like a co-con kiddo.

We went downstairs and we were about to go to the garden when we heard my cat's collar jingle behind me. I was excited because what kiddo doesn't love petting a cat, right? So I thought about which cat was following behind. As I imagined my tuxedo short hair, I started feeling wrong. So I checked in with my passenger, if you will, to see what was wrong.

Doing this check in felt almost like an emotional self check in when you ask yourself "Ok, where is this emotion coming from" and you see if it's being brought on by a trigger or trauma or insecurity.

I paused and checked in "whats wrong" and then I waited. Usually in the self check in example above you kinda retrace the steps of the emotion yourself. I made sure not to do that here, it almost felt like my co-pilot did it instead, like I was doing it but next to myself?

The conclusion as to why the thought of my tuxedo short hair made the co-pilot feel wrong was because they didn't know that cat. This shocked me. I've had my tuxedo cat for somewhere around 12 years and he's my best friend. Whoever my co-pilot was pre-dated 2010, making them 10 or younger. When I checked in to see which cat they thought it was they thought of a taby cat, I've met a couple taby cats in my time so I ran through a list of the ones we've bonded with, and they landed on one of my childhood cats who passed away when I was around 7. All this communication happened in seconds by the way in a hydraconsious sort of way (as if reading and responding to each others thoughts, which are a combo of visual, emotion based, conceptual, and "verbal" or word thoughts, while still remaining two different consciousnesses)

I had to then inform the kiddo that this pet was no longer around. That was heart breaking to do. As a result they were informed of all the other new and past pets. I could feel that it upset them to learn this, but we continued to the garden to distract from all the new upsetting updates they were receiving.

Thoughts and feelings while in the back yard get a little fuzzy. I just remember noting that this kiddo felt like they had more influence over the front than anyone else that has co-con'd before. At one point we were just staring at the house and I noted feeling like I was the one co-con to the little one. They were in control of the body and what we did. Luckily, I don't think the little one even noticed, cared, or knew what to do with being in that position so we just kinda stood there and zoned out for a little bit.

As we explored the garden for a bit I could feel the co-con fading in and out. The vibes around my house have not been the most fun so I think the kiddo was getting nervous. I was fascinated by this whole experience and didn't want it to end so I took us inside and started making our comfort food and put on some Bluey. Bluey kinda worked and kinda didn't work on keeping them co-con because I also enjoy Bluey on my own and I don't think this facet has ever watched Bluey before. I probably should have put on something from my childhood like The Muppet Show or something if I wanted them to closer to the front. Maybe I'll do that next time.

While watching Bluey I usually let the first episode I watch's intro run all the way through and then I'll skip it on the rest of the episodes. This time I didn’t do that and it's only in hindsight that I'm noticing this.

The first run of the intro felt like DoinFine jamming to it. The second run through felt like a shy observation and practice run, counting out the beats like we were engaging with it for the first time. The third run through of the intro was full little one, we closed our eyes and imagined ourselves in our living room. As a kid at the end of certain movies (typically with banger sound tracks) I would get up and dance to the credits. So, we imagined ourselves dancing like that to the Bluey intro and that was quite an interesting experience. The kiddo went from hanging back a bit to pushing me to co-con so fast. From there, they went back to side lining and eventually they left because we had to make conversation with people.

That was the most powerful sense of co-coning I have had so far. It was very interesting.

Does this line up with anyone else’s experience?

As usual asks are open!!

#What the brain doin #median system #actually median #questioning median system #questioning system #system #actually plural #plurality #plural community #neurogenic #little #median co-con #first co-con #fronting #median fronting #median system fronting

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itsthatoneguy · 4 months

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hlvrai theory

I thought of this last night for the funsies cause I felt like throwing some incomprehensible paragraph to my friend

so I think that benrey and Forzen both are not human ngl, let me explain, first of all benry is.. benry is that he acts odd and yes we all love him but he mentions how he used to be best friends with Forzen *and* and Gordon, even though the Gordon thing is bs I think that’s evidence that benry could be .. somewhat toxic, he’s funny but idk, like his behavior towards Gordon because he has a crush or wants to be friends or more than that is off, like he goes out of his way to harass Gordon and mock him as well as make threat to him and kill people (and birds, rip those pigeons) just to mess with Gordon. Now yes this is behavior caused by the fact he cannot have Gordon (weird wording Ik) but that is behavior non the less, so I have no idea where I’m going with this other than the fact that for a disciplined soldier of team nice (why would nice guy like mean people smh Forzen lied) if not for the fact that he may have some similarity to benry species wise and they were kinda just together as friends because of the one thing in common.

theory-ish/headcannon 2: benry is non human but relatively young in his species or gos?? How do they age idk so I can’t prove it and the reason he kinda goes ape wild and hormonal is from the radiation (warned by Gordon to stay out because he’s not wearing a suit to protect from radiation) speeding up his growth or mutating him harshly as explaining his sudden change of very snarky or mocking to Gordon to “leave me alone! I hate you” edgy teen towards Gordon and then kinda accepting like “man we used to be such good friends..” (yea it’s bs but his tone when saying it)

Warning: utter crack theory here

theory 3: Forzen is a shapeshifter :3

hear me out hear me tf out please

ok so first of all, behavior, Forzen is a marine soldier and should attack on sight, yes he is in a singular op or team but who on earth would do that knowing what’s out there unless Forzen was incredibly skilled, fearless or just straight didn’t need a team so his behavior makes no sense unless his higher up or commander is a literal monkey or wanted him dead (another reason, he may be wanted dead for being a shapeshifter but I’m NOT doin that rn) so he may have just taken the form of a dead soldier to not be shot on sight. And not to mention his stuttering when asked his teams name, my theory is he had to make that up on the spot and had no idea about military stuff. Why is a shapeshifter fluent in French? Idk this is just weird stuff I thought of lmao but I’ll update if I get an idea.

#hlvrai #hlvrai forzen #half life vr ai #crazy ramblings #theories #hlvr benrey

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thesilliestofgals · 9 months

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Ok COMPLETELY off topic but there's something about the first Warriors book that bothered me but idk if it's my empathy talking (spoilers for Into The Wild, obviously):

When Bluestar is like "whaddya doin' on our territory buddy, bucko, pal?" and Rusty responds with "oh I was just gonna try and hunt a mouse or two no biggie :D" and she just absolutely tears into him, it just... it rubbed me the wrong way cause it was like?? It felt like the equivalent of a middle aged woman tearing into a 10-13 year old boy who wanted to go fishing at the lake that was on her "private property" but he didn't know.

Am I the only one who feels/felt that way?

#nonny's nonsense #warrior cats #bluestar #rusty #might delete later

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bregee13 · 2 years

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The 5 Hour Spamton Playlist

It's been many months, and it's finally complete enough to share (though I might add more later). And yup, you read that right, it's just over 5 hours long.

I even decided to order it for some reason. So if you're able to listen to the whole thing in order, that's appreciated! Though it's not required of course.

But either way, I hope this playlist drives you up the wall as much as it did to me.

Anyway I'm gonna put a bunch of commentary under the read more. (This thing has been sitting around in my library for almost a year, since a week or two after the chapter 2 release!!!, I have every right to be annoying about it)

(I was originally going to comment on every other thing on the playlist, but then I got overwhelmed lol. Still keeping some of what I wrote. Might elaborate more on some things later idk. )

(Hope y'all like it!)

I tried to keep the Spamton songs in the same order as the soundtrack. In fact, the whole playlist is roughly organized based on those songs! I guess you could say each section has its own themes.

Imagine. You start the playlist eager to hear what bs was added to it. You listen to HEY EVERY !, and then it ends. Everything's quiet. And then "BWAH BWAH WHAT'S NEW PUSSYCAT-"

I've seen people add Mamma Mia and Dancing Queen to Spamton playlists, which is neat, but ngl Ring Ring and I'm a Marionette fit way better. And they're both really good.

I like to think I Get Around and Outside represent the very beginning of the bigshot era

But Telephone by Red Vox feels like it'd be from a lot later than that. Like someone looking back at the past with regret. And seeing a loss of independence and control.

Y'know, with the perspective constantly changing between different points in Spamtons story, it sorta reminds me of Death of a Salesman. Except not as good.

Anyway Spamton brings us back to the present. Even if it's just for a moment.

GAS GAS GAS I'M GONNA STEP ON THE GAS (surprised how few playlists used these tbh)

Ok ok I know Business Man has nothing to do with Spamton aside from the title, but it's goofy and gives levels of suspicion that felt relevant >:)

I Really, Really, Really Like This Image comes off as a convo between Spamton and Gaster for some reason, and I really really really like that image in my head. Also Jevil is there at the end (ps the image is an image of an egg 😊)

I'm not sure if I can properly explain It's Still Rock and Roll To Me. Pre-bigshot era? Early bigshot era? Idk. It just feels like Spamton to me. Actually Billy Joel music in general seems to fit imo. Can't explain why. Just does.

Haha All Star hehehe!!! Oh DAng it's a cool place and they say it gets colder??? Snowgrave reference??????

I hope when you hear Doin it Right, you know what I WANTED to put there...

At first Baby Hotline felt like me inserting it for the heck of it, but the more I listen to it in the context of Spamton, it fits more. Being put on hold (literally as well as metaphorically), the implications of suicide/suicidal thoughts. There's also kind of an implication of someone rooting for Spamton to improve. (Which would probably be the player, but who knows)

Ngl Promised You A Miracle is a song I stole from my Mirror Man playlist. And it's not the only one. They both share themes of religion/heaven, changing your appearance to be perfect, becoming god/superior to others, and being seen and respected.

Easy Money is a late addition. I couldn't not add it. It's good.

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A

Temporary Secretary

(But seriously, can we agree that Temporary Secretary is definitely a Spamton song? It feels scummy, unsafe, DESPERATE, and dare I say unhinged. )

Cars by Gary Numan. That's all I have to say. It's cars. Spam man likes cars!

When adding Hanging On The Telephone, I had to choose between the Blondie version and the one by The Nerves. I chose the Blondie version. It was gayer.

OuiOui's First Crime was added because Peepy's Theme didn't fully capture how much people wanna baby this middle aged puppet. Also It's OuiOuis First Crime specifically to still show that as much as people love this guy, he isn't as innocent/nice as we sometimes want to make him out to be. He's scamming and killing people! Good for him!!!

Don't You Want Me is another song stolen from the Mirror Man playlist. I like to think in perspective of Spamton, this song has multiple layers. It's about Spamton actually being seen as someone important for once, him asking for reassurance that people want him, and threatening them if they don't. It's about Spamton getting more successful because of Gaster/Mike and wanting independence from them, causing his downfall. It's about teaming up with Kris to become BIG at the expense of Kris and potentially everyone in cybercity. It's about Spamton wanting the player to like and pity him. There's probably more connections that could be made than that even!

I'm too overwhelmed to comment too much more atm, but please know that at a certain point of making this and listening to it over and over trying get the order right, I momentarily mentally turned into Chris McLean from Total Drama. I will not elaborate lmao

#Spotify #spamton #deltarune #spamton g spamton #spamton neo #spotify playlist #It's nowhere near as good as the mm one but prob nothing will lol #I want everyone that listens to this to feel like they're getting hit by a truck

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udonthreens · 2 years

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top 5 disco elysium moments i have never played the game but ithink you should explain it like i know everything already anyways

anon uve triggered my autism beam

these r vaguely ranked but also i. i dont promise coherency and if i thought abt it with more brain theyd be different.

5) ok this is the last one im writing and idk. theres so many good scenes and moments and nevermind. the chair. the fucking CHAIR and evrart. it took me 200hrs to see what happens when u PASS the composure check like. tbh failing this check is basically canon. slide down it like a jello shot. again like the megarich container guy this is one of those possible early moments of 'ou this games a fucking weird comedy' and i just. best way to assert dominance with the corrupt commie boss like 'what a great display of... idek what that was' and im pretty sure u lose a rep point with kim if u fail it too like. kim dont be mad this is just my interogattion technique im not giving the rcm a bad rep i promise kim

actually some honourable mentions: lamby, boardgames with kim, joyce pale convo, kim voice dilligent boy, THE CHURCH I DIDNT MENTION THE CHURCH i love doin the dance after gettin shot its so funny. love the rave kids. shivers voice theres a hole in my heart. the fucking 'lookin to score some d girl!' bit with kim & acele thats comedy gold actually. thats brilliant. i might just start listening everything. pinball with kim when u pass it im just like. kim why dyou sound so smitten . the piss and fuck jackets. actually i really like the whole bit with the working class woman that was Devasting. even more so when i realised u could actually tell her ud look for her husband ...... i liked the jamais vu viscal pleasure wheel bit after (i think that was added with the update? yes it was) altho i dont remember specifics just. his brain reconstructin smth as idk.. smth to make him feel better? felt bittersweet. i should go see that scene again.

ok ill fuckin wrap this up. 'are u... a really good detective?' great line and not a moment per say but. the fact that jean just. hangs around the whirling for several days in that fuckin wig like, obvs he doesnt move spots bcs its a video game (despite the edc lines showin that he does do other shit) cuz u need to know where to find him. but he just fuckin commits like. the character building from all this shit for whats technically a minor character. brilliant. doesnt HE have a fuckin job to do. also titus is always in the whirling for the same video game reason so like. yes. yes to that rarepair.

3) communist book club and the tower building that was soooooo cool not to mention the fuckin hilarity of readin bout inframaterialism for the first time nd going "???? is this pseudoscience in the game or can it ACTUALLY fucking happen like wtf"

2) karoke. pass over fail tbh limbic system KILLS it (and its more lyrical spoken word doesnt fit the song nd also i thot id actually hear harrys voice during that scene and we kinda did but like thats a different tangent) and kims support 'detective du bois... it was down right tragic' and the edc or concept check? concept i 5hink that was like 'to him that represented being an rcm member perfectly' like HELLO??? kim bestie its not 2 late for a career change. AND not to mention gartes reaction to it like... u really get the feeling that he Will get rid of the machine if harry fucks it up. however i do like the pass as well bcs a) harrys had enough cringe fail b) jeans deadbeat litany of 'yeah its shit it sucked awful' like. thats how he talks 2 harry when hes being NICE its so funny. het life partners <33

4) mega rich light bending guy. AGAIN the weiss thingymay coefficent where ur like 'is this an actual Thing or is harry just fuckin insane' nd also i crit succeeded on my first playthru real early on when i hadnt seen any of the wacky shit yet nd it just. the -2 if u have the artcop thought the fuckin ultralib shit . u get like 4 ultralib points at LEAST if u pass/fail the right concept check. god not to mention kim earnestly suggesting rcm reforms like kim bestie kim kim my bestfriend kim its not 2 late for a career change. also if u get the 100 real and kims like 'ur full of surprises most of them bad but some of them good' soooo true <33

1) salami man.

#answered #anon

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horromcom · 2 years

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elaborating on earlier when i was talking abt the wasted potential barry carried im mainly talking in regards to his redemption/post-coma writing. not saying his pre-coma portrayal was perfect by any means, i still got some problems w it, but in comparison he feels leagues more well-utilized as a character

idk how to explain it but it kinda feels like the writers dont know WHAT to do w him anymore. like a barry redemption has the potential to be so complex and dynamic and could lead to soooo many fun ideas and episodes and potential plot threads and so many new angles to explore but the writers just dont do ANYTHING INTERESTING WITH IT (avgn voice) WHAT WERE THEY THINKINGGGG??

like ok 11x4 was. fine. still has some MAJOR glaring issues that make me foam at the mouth, but on its own its alright for the most part, i still revisit it a lot and if i dont think abt it too much its fun. 12x8 on the other hand was where it all falls apart for me

like i’ll never forget how excited i was for that ep thinking it was gonna tackle at least some of the cool new potential themes and ideas his character now carries like YES ITS HAPPENING WE’RE WINNING WAHOOO YIPPEEEE .. and then they completely botched it. like i cant say they didnt try, the ep did have some good ideas but the way it was all executed was sooo :/ disappointing and boring and surface-level and tbh kinda felt shoehorned in for a quick easy source of conflict and drama rather than being naturally developed over the course of his arc to the point where it almost feels like an afterthought and its all just so FRUSTRATINGGGG. (shrek image) they didnt even follow up on the events of 11x4. sucks especially bc this episode was shaping up to be one of my favs ever and then it actually aired and it was the worst night of my entire life hate and violence on planet earth. and it honestly has me extremely worried for future seasons too bc on one hand im scared his death’s gonna stick and the end of his arc will be whatevr the hell that was,, but on the other im scared he’ll come back and the writers will continue to butcher his character the way they’re doin. idk which is scarier AAAAA. like maybe they’ll surprise me maybe they’ll fix the problems i have and do something fun and new with him im trying so hard to stay optimistic. but my hopes aren’t high at all. the bar is at the earths core. yes im sooo excited for s13 yippee yay. yes im also shaking like a wet lil dog whenever i think abt how its almost here bc my poor blorbo might get massacred further

also the ‘doesnt get enough screen time’ slot that i checked off plays into the wasted potential angle too. like i think prior to the coma seasons the amount he got was fine (i def wouldnt complain if he had more but for what he got yeah it works) but post-coma i think the whole ‘once a season’ thing doesnt work anymore now that they’ve taken him in this new direction that requires more focus and care to develop. like i said abt how 12x8 felt rly rushed with barry’s whole deal feeling like it was tossed in without much forethought, i think that wouldnt have been so much of a problem if he were allowed more episodes prior to DO ANYTHING to establish his character growth and new motives/ideals and relationships/dynamics with the rest of the team and his clear struggles with recovery and how having archer back in the picture is affecting him and MY GOD. archer fx staff give him some filler episodes RAT NAO IM SO SRS and i know im yelling at clouds here bc i doubt this is something they’re gonna work on in future seasons considering they’re prob gonna stick to the 8 ep structure forever now which means less time to build on their side characters which drives me so mad and also another thing why have him apart of the team at all if ur not gonna do ANYTHINGGGG WITH HIM WHATS THE POINT THEN like if u for some reason cant feature him in too many eps then at least make up an excuse as to where he is or SOMETHING to affirm hes an established team member like the show claims like is he apart of the agency or not HELLO IS ANYONE THERE CAN ANYONE HEAR ME ITS SO DARK AND COLD IN HERE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE HELP MEEEE

where am i going w this what am i talking abt im running on three hours of sleep here im not crazy i just want my babygirl sweet angel darling honeypie to have good writing and a meaningful well-realized arc and fun interesting relationship dynamics and character complexity/depth and actual thought and attention put into his development SO SO BAD I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE AUUUGHH AUUAHAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (DATS ME YELLIN)