#I’m not gonna survive the last two episodes

[t3a-gh0st]

HELLO? WHAT

IM FUCKING SCARED

This is so wHY

WHY DOSE IT LOOK LIKE A HOSPITAL THING

ALSO “cheers” BEING THE NAME OF THE LAST EPISODE OH MY GOD IM GONNA JUST EXPLODE

#fionna and cake #simon petrikov #adventure time simon #adventure time #where everybody knows your name #and their always glad you came #I’m not gonna survive the last two episodes #they fact that I have to sit through school for 7 hours and not know how it ends is tragic #I’m not gonna be able to think about anything other than this the whole day #credit to hannaktweet on twitter for the promo btw

[brewdarrymore]

yo the flash is for real BACK and i am being reminded why i fell in love with this show nine years ago like THIS is what i’ve been wanting this is what i’ve been missing for 5 seasons i’m about to get emotional

#the last two episodes have me nostalgic as hell i’m a fan again truly #i won’t survive the finale #and i’m gonna get emotional that there’s only 3 episodes left when it’s finally getting good again #my mouth was OPEN this episode i was genuinely like oh my god #the flash #dctv #cw the flash

[i-like-writing-stuff]

retirement [five hargreeves x reader]

a/n: hi guys! it’s been a while hehe, so i hope ull enjoy this short x reader with the one and only five yall know i love sm, homeboy did not disappoint this season neither lmao. season 3 just premiered and i already have finished it:( 

can i just say

WHAT THE ACTUAL FVUCK

either way, id b happy to discuss with yall opinions and such and also feel free to leave requests! 

ill leave warnings at the beginning of each imagine if it shall be the case

i.e. this imagine takes place right in the first episode!!

also, forgive my english, havent really spoken in a while and dont even get me started on the writing 

enjoy besties!

summary: now that the second apocalypse is over, five and y/n can finally retire and maybe finally make their moves?

“You know, Five... Sometimes I do wish I’d never met you,” You took a sip from your wine, watching as the preteen in question rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a delight as well, Y/N,” He nonchalantly dismissed you, continuing to eat his Chinese takeout.

After surviving not one, but two apocalypses alongside Five Hargreeves and his siblings, you guys wound up back in your timeline, only to find out your trip to the 60s caused some changes in the present, such as Sir Reginald Hargreeves deciding against adopting Luther, Diego, Klaus, Ben, Allison, Viktor and Five, and instead some seven other dickheads with superpowers.

Your encounter was far from pleasant. 

Six months ago you were planning to retire from the Commission, since you were almost sixty and had had your fair share of missions, so you figured one last task with your partner, Five, would be the good way to end things. Well, one thing led to another and instead of taking out JFK, you woke up in 2019, in your preteen body, in an unknown backyard with unknown people, who turned out to be your partner’s siblings.

One thing led to another and you guys bonded over the span of 10 days in an attempt to save the world, but that is a story for another time. 

After those 10 days, you time traveled once again and woke up in 1963, alone, in a school. Some teacher found you and took you in, thinking you were a lost 13 year old girl, but then again, that is a story for another time.

Six months passed until you reunited with the Hargreeves siblings in yet another attempt to save the world.

Two more weeks and you were back in 2019, but things did not go according to plan. 

“Still don’t understand how you two have not banged yet,” Klaus shook his head disappointed, as Diego and Luther couldn’t help but not in agreement.

You tried not to blush, but Klaus’ bluntness always got the best of you. Spending this time with Five on top of being a teen again took a toll on you. You’ve known Five for long before the apocalypse. When the Handler recruited him, she trusted you to be his partner, since you were basically her right hand. The bickering was there even back then, but these past six months you started seeing him with different eyes, in a different light.

“I’d rather choke on chopsticks,” You were quick to deny any indecent thought, “You’re sick, by the way.”

“And you’re sixty, so bye,” Klaus smirked, hopping from his stool.

“Too retired to even bother,” Five shrugged his shoulders, watching as his two other brothers followed Klaus.

“I’m gonna get more food,” Luther lightly shrugged his shoulders, making his way to the buffet.

“I refuse to third wheel 13 year olds,” Diego stated, scratching the back of his neck.

You watched confused as the three men all left the table, leaving you alone with Five, who did not seem bothered at all. 

“I’ll never get used to your brothers,” You shook your head, taking another sip from your wine, “You people are too much.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Five scoffed, watching as you were playing with your glass.

“So, retirement, huh?” You changed the subject, “What are your plans now that the world is safe?”

“I didn’t think much of it, to be honest,” Five shrugged, “Weren’t you supposed to retire after the JFK mission? What did you have in mind?”

You smiled softly, looking at your wine, “I was gonna buy a mansion in Italy, 1970s or so... maybe get a dog and cat, start producing my own wine... I don’t know, I didn’t plan much.”

“Of course there’s a lot of wine in your retirement plans,” Five smirked, as you playfully smacked his arm, “Ow!”

“You’re officially banned from visiting me in Italy,” You stated, biting back a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to anyway,” Five lightly shrugged his shoulders, not once dropping his smirk, “Besides- you wouldn’t last a day without me.”

“Excuse you?” You scoffed, placing your hand on top of your chest for a more dramatic effect, “Last I checked, you were the one who dragged me along this whacky adventure.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I knew you’d be devastated at the Commission without me,” He replied with the same cocky air as usual, which made you ponder on the situation.

Is this Five’s way of flirting with you? During the time you spent together ever since operation Doomsday started back in the original timeline of 2019, there may have been a few... interesting moments to say the least. Like when he first opened up to you about being worried sick for his siblings, or when he gave you the tightest embrace after reuniting with you in 1963. There was also that time when you two held hands on your way to meet his father. 

Moments like these that you couldn’t help but cherish with utmost happiness, but not once letting yourself get sidetracked. There was an apocalypse going on, neither of you had time for this.

But now?

Now there’s no apocalypse anymore. Granted, there still are some issues that would be best to fix, but it’s not like they’d bring the end of the world if not.

So, why not?

“If I didn’t know you any better, Five Hargreeves,” You smirked, leaning in closer to the boy, with your glass of wine in one hand, “I’d say you are flirting with me.”

Five shook his head amused, watching you sip your precious wine so close to him. If the wine was intoxicating you, you definitely were the one intoxicating him. It took him some while before he could accept that he had feelings for you, but he couldn’t say either that he was surprised when he realized.

He really felt like you were absolutely perfect, no doubt in his mind. 

“And would that bother you?” Five raised a brow, resting his arm on the back of your chair, leaning in even closer.

“I can’t say it would be unpleasant,” You set down your wine, curious to see where this would go.

“You’re such a tease, Y/N,” Five rolled his eyes, “But... I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Will you just kiss me already?” You sighed, watching a genuine smile appear on his lips, as he leaned in, connecting your lips at last.

You cupped his face, melting into the long-awaited kiss. On one hand, you couldn’t believe this was finally happening, and on the other hand, you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You and Five were finally done with apocalypses, trying to save the world and the Commission. 

You could officially both retire.

“Does this mean I can visit you in Italy?” He whispered, as you two pulled away from the kiss, but still painfully close to one another.

“Ah, who can’t last a day without the other now?” You smirked, pulling him into another kiss.

#five x reader #five hargreeves #number five x reader #number five imagines #five hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #tua season 3 #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy x reader

[thecreelhouse]

part time soulmate, full time problem

Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI!

Summary: The tragic accident Willow died in replays in a nightmare, in great detail, along with how you and Gator stopped talking years ago. While Gator comforts you, a confession slips, making it crystal clear there’s no going back.

Word count: 10k+

CW/Tags: PTSD/flashbacks/nightmares, hurt/comfort, blood/injury mentions, discussions of kinks and boundaries, somnophilia, dacryphilia, oral sex (both f and m receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, anal play, brat taming, boot grinding (I’m so sorry lmao), bunch of other filth, lots of fluff in between it all

Series Masterlist // Read on AO3

A/N: hi y’all!! This chapter’s hopefully gonna make up for the heaviness of the last one, as well as the insanity of this week’s episode. It’s emotional, but I promise it’s a lot sweeter than the last chapter. Thanks again for all the support on this series y’all. <3

Day 9

Freshly 18, you had your own place, your own car; safety to retreat to, and a way out, just in case. You had worked so hard for things your classmates were gifted from parents and took for granted. What they got for free from parents who cared, you’d work two jobs after school for.

Independence like yours on the surface was something most teens your age yearned for, but deep down, it was just a painful reminder of the way your family was falling apart right before your very eyes. You did what you had to do to survive, and to keep your sister safe from the threats that once hurt you.

“She’ll be here, it’s alright.” Gator said softly as you glued yourself to the window, while you watched the snow coat the street below your shitty shoebox sized apartment. His hands rested on your shoulders from behind, instantly easing some of your tension. “You taught Willow how to drive in this weather. She knows how to be safe.”

You wordlessly nodded, eyes never leaving the view out of your window. Gator could tell nothing would ease your mind until she arrived. It didn’t help that you were beginning to feel a strange distance growing between the two of you already, but he was still here at this point.

“Would it help if I went out to look for her?”

You finally turned around, seeing how concerned Gator was, too. “Don’t do that, you’re right. She’s fine. She’s probably just driving slowly in the snow. I’d rather her get here alive if slowly than not at all.” Your eyes linger, locking with Gator’s for a moment; you could tell neither of you believed your words. You chewed on your thumbnail as you turned around to look out the window again.

All the “what-ifs” began to run through your mind again, even as you watched the snow slow to a light dusting of flurries.

A police car pulled up in front of your building, catching your eye; your heart sank into your stomach. Something wasn’t right. Your hand fell to your side and your breathing became shallow, rapid.

“Gator?” Your voice shook as you called out for him, but a knock on the apartment door grabbed his attention first. You whipped around, as Gator waited for your OK to answer the door, since he was closer to it. You nodded, feeling lightheaded; your mind was one step ahead, dissociating already.

Now you knew something wasn’t right. Especially if they were here to talk to you, not your parents.

Gator swung the door open, and it’s no one you recognized, but he did; someone who worked with his dad regularly.

All sound around you faded out as a ringing took its place, high pitched and painful. Nothing was right. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. It was all wrong.

Gator took over on conversation with the familiar cop, voices hushed in a somber tone; you saw him in your peripheral vision continue to look back to you, worried, but this sickening daze held you in a death grip. You couldn’t breathe; it felt like your lungs were filling up with sorrow already to brace yourself for whatever was about to come.

It only took hearing the words “I’m sorry,” to set it all off; you weren’t even aware you were already crying, but those two words pulled the most heartbreaking, bloodcurdling wail from your lungs.

You didn’t faint, but your mind had a gap from that moment and how you ended up on the floor in the fetal position, screaming. You didn’t know when Gator came over to you, to grip you in his arms, as if you’d vanish before his eyes. As if the grief would’ve swallowed you whole on the spot.

The ringing faded a little, and you could only make out some things Gator said; something about the cop giving him all the information to give to you, and that he’d go see your parents next, and that he truly was so sorry.

You were always Willow’s emergency contact before anyone else. But she didn’t even have a chance to call for help, a drunk driver hit her head on, and she died on impact. Meanwhile, that drunk motherfucker survived.

Waves of anger and pain flooded through you, so you sobbed and grabbed Gator as tight as he held you. You couldn’t see past the tears, but you heard him crying, too.

“I’m so sorry.” It was all Gator could say to you, other than, “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” repeating it over and over.

“Don’t leave me,” You wept, unsure where that came from. He wasn’t moving, he was still holding you. If Willow was gone, Gator was truly all you had in this terrible town.

“Promise I won’t.” He said firmly, “I’m here for you.”

He repeated it so many times, you actually believed him.

Days later, arrangements were made only by you, since your parents couldn’t be bothered. You texted Gator to give him the details, but he never responded. Only left you on read. So, you called him. No answer, ever. Even went to his house, to which you were given some weak excuse by Roy as to why he was busy and unavailable. Every time you tried to contact him, tell him about the viewing and funeral, he never answered. Not once had he checked on you since the night Willow died.

So, you stood alongside your parents at the viewing, feeling so alone, even as you sat through friends and family giving their condolences down the line after paying respects to Willow. It wasn’t even her. Just a dolled up shell of who she was, or rather, wasn’t. No amount of thick, oily, mortuary makeup would ever make your sister look alive again. You felt isolated during the service, shut out from the only other people that should’ve cared for you. They should’ve cared about Willow, too.

And as the casket lowered into the ground, all you could think of was how you wished it was only the snow that took her, and not some scumbag drunk driver. The biggest wish was that she was never stolen from life so early at all. Your only other thought was how you wished Gator would show up. He never did, so in a crowd of others, you mourned alone.

Time passed, and you stayed in your apartment, distanced yourself even further from your parents, and prayed you’d hear something, anything from Gator.

Eventually, your parents threw out most of Willow’s belongings before you could gather some of them to remember her by. It sent you into a violent rage, throwing their own belongings around the house; frames cracked, vases and knick-knacks shattered, and your mother cried. She wept more over this than at the funeral for her own daughter.

Your father refused to understand your pain, only to unleash his abusive fury on you, like how he did during the days you still lived at home. Your mother watched silently as your father swung fists at his own child. His only child at this point.

After the bereavement time passed, you returned to school with a black eye. No one, not even your teachers asked if you were okay. It was either a punchline in someone’s shitty joke, or juicy gossip, or ignored completely. You weren’t sure which of the three were the worst.

When Gator saw you in the hallway, his heart shattered, but he said nothing. Just gave a quick glance of sympathy before his asshole friends caught his attention again. At first, he said nothing. By the end of the week, he was joining those assholes to say rotten things about you, about how weird you were, how tired and sick you always looked now, and how you probably deserved that black eye.

You pulled yourself out of school to finish senior year in homeschooling; aside from some online classes, you taught yourself the rest. It was a quiet and lonely rest of the school year. You skipped your own graduation. You had no one to celebrate with. Your parents didn’t want to go. Your only friends were gone, one way or another; Willow was dead, six feet under, and Gator suddenly withdrew from your entire life.

You were only home for another month or so before moving on a whim in the early summer. You finished the apartment’s lease, sold most of your things and your car; you packed the few necessities you had, along with some of Willow’s personal belongings she left at your place. Without much of a goodbye, your parents were more than glad to offer a ride to the airport, more than satisfied to get rid of their one remaining child.

As you threw your things into the trunk and slammed it shut, a familiar truck parked across the street, with Gator hesitantly stepping out. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, time stopping around the both of you. He held his breath, unable to move more than one step before you stopped him from crossing the street with a cold glare and your middle finger flipped towards him.

You held it for a few seconds, hoping he noticed how dead tired you looked, how sick the heartbreak of losing two people at once made you, and the few bruises your clothes didn’t cover that your father gave as a farewell present.

Gator looked like he was punched in the gut as you climbed into the backseat, while not once did you look back at him as your parents drove off.

———

Quickly, you’re sitting up in bed, gasping from startling yourself awake. You have a lump in your throat, as if you’d start to cry, but it never starts. Your chest felt heavy as you tried taking deep breaths, not realizing how hard you were gripping Gator’s arm out of instinct, digging your nails into his skin, until he was woken up by the pressure and slight pain.

A searing pain of your own tears glides across the side of your face; your fingers touch along the bandages, and everything begins to flood back to you, along with fresh blood onto your fingertips.

“What the fuck—“ Gator grumbles as his eyes open; he looks pissed, but only for a moment when he sees how distraught you look. His irritation only takes a second to turn to concern, sitting up to move in front of you, hands resting on your shoulders as your body was stuck in this terrible feeling right before the tears break. He holds you just like he did the night Willow died, before moving his hands to cup your face; he’s cautious and gentle with the side that’s injured, keeping his touch off of the wound.

“Hey, darlin’, what’s goin’ on?” Gator’s alert but the sleepiness still clings to his words.

What he thought were tears was blood from the laceration on your face. “Fuck, how’d this open?” Scrambling to get a better look at you, he clicks on the lamp near his bed. He’s torn on whether or not to care for you emotionally or physically first as he takes in the heartbroken, pained look on your face, while blood dribbles down your skin.

Your stare is blank as your breathing stays shallow; everything’s spinning from the dizziness. He sits as close as possible to you, watching you spiral into panic and dread. The wound long forgotten, you look down at your arms and legs, checking for the bruises you were once so used to seeing as a child.

Gator follows your gaze, confused. “What’re you lookin’ for?” He’s pulling his shirt up and over his head, using it to clot the bleeding. Using generous pressure, he holds the fabric to your face, watching blood trickle through, but not drench the shirt, thankfully.

Without a verbal answer for him, your tears finally, finally break. Up until this moment, you were completely numb, but you can’t take it anymore. They’re silent, but they’re rushing down your cheeks wildly, like a broken faucet. Some slip under the shirt on your face, sneaking their way under the fabric and seeping into your cut; you hiss as the salty tears sting. “I wish I- I said goodbye.” Your voice is small and broken. Gator isn’t sure what you’re talking about, but his heart breaks for you regardless.

“Said goodbye to who, darlin’?” He’s reaching over to his nightstand, fumbling through its messy drawer, hoping to find a bandaid; he lucks out, removing the shirt and applying it to your face. He’ll clean it for you later, but right now, you need comfort, and something to stop the bleeding.

You lock eyes with him, overflowing with tears, and he finally gets it, but you answer anyway. “I wish I said goodbye to you, Gator. I- you came by the day I left a- and… and…”

Gator pulls you into a hug, pulling you onto his lap while holding you just as tight as the night your sister died. He realizes the disaster that happened hours earlier must’ve triggered dreams of the past. “I’m so sorry I was so- so mean… I should’ve—“

Gator grabs your face in a clumsy motion with gentle intentions, just missing your wound again. “Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize. You were never mean to me, but I was fuckin’ awful to you. M’so sorry. I’m gonna be regrettin’ that every day for the rest of my life.”

“I was so mean to you as soon as I got here th- though,” you shut your eyes tight, hoping it’ll shield you from any further pain. “That wasn’t fair to you.”

Pulling back while he still holds you, Gator looks devastated as his gaze bores into yours. It kills him that you’re blaming yourself for how the friendship ended, all these years later. He should’ve been there for you; he never should’ve left to begin with. It was his fault he ran away, not yours. It’s his fault you had to finish school at home, his fault you felt so alone in a place you already considered so empty and depressing, feeling like your only other option from giving up was moving hundreds of miles away.

Gator doesn’t even realize that he’s the one crying this time, not until you bring your hands to his face, softly wiping the tears away. His hands meet yours, keeping them in place as he takes comfort in your touch.

“I fucked everythin’ up. I wasn’t there for you when Willow died, I didn’t say goodbye to her, I didn’t protect you from your parents… I can’t even pretend I didn’t know things got worse with ‘em, not with how shameless your dad was about hurtin’ ya’.” His bottom lip quivers while he looks to the ceiling, hoping to stop his tears. This wasn’t about him, and he knew that; his grief and despair was for you, past and present.

“I heard you were leavin’, and it killed me that I never apologized before you left, but I get why you didn’t give me that chance. I never deserved it to begin with. It seemed like it was best to just… back away and protect you from my own bullshit. But we had each others’ backs, and I fucked it up.

“There’s no way to take back the way I hurt you, but I’ll try every day to make things better for the future. Fuck, even if we end up just friends when this is all said and done, I’ll still do anythin’ you need me to. I’m not leavin’ again. Not unless you tell me to.”

You’re at a loss for words, heart breaking as it swells, too. You were no stranger to the abuse his dad had put him through, along with surrounding trauma in that family. It’s something the two of you knew how to comfort one another on. Make each other feel a little less alone.

While you did what you could to get out and start living the life you deserved, he always brushed his pain off, raised to believe expressing emotions and being vulnerable wasn’t what “real men” did. None of this excuses the way he left you behind, but you’re well aware it played a big part in it all, and he never had a healthy outlet to heal through.

Gator’s been suffering, but also drowning in his trauma, too. If he just kept holding on, kept following his father’s orders, no matter how dangerous or unspeakable, maybe that could be his life raft out of the dark waters trying to drag him down.

Truthfully, Gator knew all along being complicit in everything his father has carried out and exploited wouldn’t get him anywhere. He’s no closer to heaven than any other scumbag officer abusing their power to get what they want, or get what his dad wanted. Every empty and full threat made, every shot fired at those who never deserved it, the orders he followed through on, despite his conscious screaming in the back of his mind to stand up for himself— did any of it earn genuine love and approval from his father?

Not at all, and that’s something Gator will carry heavy on his heart until the day he dies.

He really had no one when it came down to it all, no one, except you. He has you. He’s always had you. Even when the two of you didn’t talk for years, he was on your mind more than you’d like to admit, both out of anger, but mostly worrying for his safety and well being.

Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking about you just as often. While he always believed you were tough as nails, a soft rose with razor sharp thorns for anyone who dared hurting you, he couldn’t stop the worry. The bond was a silent radio signal, but the faint buzz still hung lightly in the air between the two of you, even halfway across the country.

“You know… this goes against everything I’ve learned, and unlearned, in the last several years. Forgiving you, I mean. Who you are, that goes against everything I believe in when it comes to morals as a person.”

Gator’s not surprised by your words, but they still hurt like a well needed reality check. It’s still something he brought onto himself. He might’ve been raised by a rotten excuse of a dad, but he could’ve been changing long ago as his own person, as an adult. He could’ve distanced himself from his father and all of his crimes and atrocities, rather than desperately fight for Roy’s approval.

“But you were only that person on the surface. I’ve been lucky to know the real you ‘fore we fell apart. And… I missed you… more than you’d ever know. Seeing you again for the first time in so long… I felt like the only way to keep my guard up was to be mean.” You admit shamefully. Gator brings your hands down with his before lacing your fingers into his. “I don’t even think I realized what I was doing until you—“ You pause, trying to swallow the inevitable lump in your throat, trying to manifest into more crying. “Fuck. I almost hate you for making it so easy to love you again.”

The words slip out before you can catch them in time, eyes widening with embarrassment and fear of rejection and judgement. Your mouth opens and closes comically like a fish as you scramble to think of an excuse.

“Did… did you just say what I think you said?” Gator’s stunned at your accidental confession. He’s also surveying your expression for any uncertainties or doubts.

How are you so good at letting the wrong things slip at the wrong time?

You try shrugging it off, but your hands shake in his grasp. “… You heard nothing.”

“Ain’t that gaslightin’?” He’s teasing, but you’re tensed up, expecting rejection if you answer him. Gator’s eyeing you skeptically, “No, I definitely heard something.”

“Prolly’ just the wind. Very noisy. Can’t shut up, just like me!” You force a laugh, but your voice cracks. “Totally valid you’d think it was me, but nope. Didn’t say a damn thing.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, unable to look away from one another, staying still, afraid to make any movements that could be misinterpreted. The howling wind picks up outside, and a draft breezes between the two of you; you’re too lost in the moment to care about being cold.

What breaks the tension is Gator’s signature cocky smirk, but it’s not malicious. It’s like the one he gave you when you accidentally called him cute a few nights ago.

“You love me?” He hesitates to believe what he heard was actually what you said.

Can’t play dumb out of this one.

You take a deep breath before confessing, “More than I’m willing to actually admit.”

“… You… love me?”

“… I absolutely shouldn’t after everything we went through… but, yeah. Yeah. I do.”

Gator searches your expression for something, anything that’ll give the hint that this is just a joke, a prank, something to get back at him for everything he’s done to you. You don’t break. There’s no sign of your confession being anything less than true.

“We still have so much to learn ‘bout one ‘nother… you sure you want to love someone like me?”

“Only if you want to love someone like me.” You’re terrified saying this out loud, but you’re far past the point of return.

Gator feels like he’s dreaming, and all he can think to ask is, ��… Can we still make fun of each other?”

“Pretty sure it’s just our love language at this point,” You laugh away your sniffles. “Just don’t be too mean, alright? Unless it’s like, consensual-in-bed kinda mean—”

Gator stops your rambling, pulling you back into his lap; you’re automatically wrapping your legs around him as he holds you close and tight. “Then yeah. I love you, freak.”

You snort at the once hurtful name, now a reclaimed term of endearment, as you let your head fall into his shoulder, “You’re never gonna give that up, huh?”

“It’s only fair since you keep mentioning that goddamn sock—“

“Gator? You know fleshlights are a thing, right? Can I get you one? I’m gonna get you one.” You’re grinning at the deadpan glare he gives. “Guarantee that’s gotta feel better than a fucking sock. Wool can’t feel good on your—”

Again, he interrupts you, “You’re never gon’ give up being a brat, I guess.” His hands are pressed against your back, pushing your body closer to his, as if there’s any space left between the two of you.

“Like you said,” Your lips are barely touching when you use his words, “Someone’s gotta fuck the brat outta me, right?.”

He laughs into a kiss that’s short and sweet. “You’re my brat, though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You grin before kissing him again. “Always.”

“Wouldn’t promise always yet, I know I’m still on thin ice.” He’s aware one week together wouldn’t fix everything magically.

“Until further notice?”

“Now that just makes it sound like a job.”

“Brattin’ is a full time job, y’know.” You smirk, kissing along his jawline. “Someone’s gotta keep ya’ busy so you don’t get into real trouble.” He involuntarily gasps as you move down his neck, gritting his teeth as your lips drag against his skin, with your teeth gently scraping every so often.

It’s subtle, you almost miss it, but he flexes his hips upwards into you, movements more deliberate when the friction reaches your core. It provokes you to paw at his chest while you start to tenderly suck on his neck

Then, Gator remembers your face wound, “Wait, wait, wait.” He’s pushing you back, and you begin feeling rejection, or worry that you’re not making him feel good, but he’s checking the temporary bandage holding your wound from seeping open again. Relief pushes the fear of rejection away.

“Before anythin’ else, lemme clean it for ya’, okay?” He gets up, heading for the door, and you follow him, clutching your head as dizziness catches up to you. “Darlin’, you can stay in bed, it’s okay. I’ll go get the first aid kit—“

“Mama didn’t raise no quit—“ You pause and chuckle, while he feels bad as he stifles a laugh, “— never mind, she didn’t raise me at all.” You’re pushing past Gator towards the bathroom, and he follows.

“Jumpin’ into the dark humor already? Damn.” He’s trying his best to hold his face straight, but you poke at the corners of his mouth, pushing upward into a smile.

“You can laugh, I promise.” You’re glancing around as you back off of him, playing I-spy with the clutter in his bathroom. It’s not terrible, or filthy, just random things left about in spots you wouldn’t find them normally; you’re baffled as to why there’s a bottle of engine oil on the floor by the shower. Glancing up at him, you quirk a brow, “Gator, do you even have a first aid kit?”

“Yeah! I do…” He’s glancing around, confidence in his answer fading fast. “… I think.”

“Last time ya’ saw it?”

“…….. Good question.” Gator shrugs with an apologetic smile, despite the look you’re shooting him. “There’s gotta be bandaids somewhere in here.” He’s pulling cabinets open, murmuring, “No… not there…. No— oh, that’s where my spare keys went!”

You sigh dramatically, sitting on the bathroom counter. “Gator, do you ever clean?”

“Not as much as I’d like to,” He’s pulling things out of the medicine cabinet, whispering a small but victorious “yes!” when he finds a box of butterfly bandages, slapping the box on the counter’s surface. Continuing to look, he finishes, “Kinda hard when Roy has me cleanin’ all his fuckin’ messes.”

Your lips pursed together as you watch him, wondering just exactly what kind of messes Roy got him into.

You weren’t dense; you knew he had hurt people in the past, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he killed someone, too. That alone should be a hard line for you to never, ever cross, but everything is so much more complex than it seems. It’s troubling and conflicting for you; you aren’t making excuses. You could never make excuses.

The only choices Gator has are to clean up his act, or continue down the path his father forced him down, so, so long ago. The decision’s up to him. Things can only go up from here, and whatever the circumstances may be between you both, you can only hope and encourage him to be the best version of himself from here on out. Not just for you, or this relationship, but for his own well being and future, too.

“Okay, I think I found enough stuff to treat it.” He’s still murmuring, like he’s talking to himself as he washes his hands. “C’mere,” It’s a gentle order, one that you follow with ease, tilting your head up and to the side, flashing the haphazardly placed bandage over the gash. “Jesus…” Gator doesn’t mean to react out loud, but in the light, it’s clear it was more than just a quick swipe of your father’s hand against your face; that alone is still bad, but your face is bruising around the wound’s edges. There’s an array of colors blooming around the laceration; blues and purples, mostly, but Gator knows they’ll turn a sickly yellow and green before fading completely.

“How bad is it?” You ask; you weren’t able to bring yourself to look closely in the mirror. You didn’t want to see the results of your father’s unjustified anger. Not now, at least. Gator hesitates answering, brows knitting together as he focuses on removing the old bandage gently, along with the original ones Karen applied after the abuse occurred.

He avoids your question completely, not wanting to upset you further. “Bad news…. I only got rubbin’ alcohol to clean it.” He’s studying the pencil thin lines of reds and pinks, expanding away from the source of pain; they jitter and jolt harshly, like lightning bolts, fading out like spider webs. “We got soap, but I don’t got any antibiotics or anythin’.”

“Wait, is it bad to use rubbing alcohol?” You gasp while turning to him, thinking back to the first night together, when you cleaned out the tiny wounds he earned kneeling on the broken lamp. You used rubbing alcohol to clean the cuts after removing the shards, but now you’re worried and second guessing.

“Yeah, it’s not like… the worst thing, it still cleans it, but I read it makes it harder to heal or somethin’. Takes longer.”

“You read?”

Gator narrows his eyes your way teasingly; he knows you’re joking. “Anyway, yeah. Shouldn’t be the first choice.”

“Fuck, I used that on your cuts—“

“And they still healed, no infections.” Gator assures, gently turning your head to the side again. He cleans the dried blood with water and a cotton pad as best as possible. “I’m grateful ya’ helped at all… and it’s nice when ya’ think about it… you’re a lil’ rusty at this. All things considered, that’s not so bad. Means you’ve been safe since leavin’, y’hadn’t had to rely on fixin’ up your own wounds.”

You don’t cry, but his point makes you emotional, skin shivering over his thoughtful view. “Since when are you lookin’ on the bright side?”

“Think some pain in my ass has been an influence on me lately…” His tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth ever so slightly, pulling back as he throws the now-tinted reddish-brown wad of cotton into the sink. Grabbing a clean piece of cotton and the rubbing alcohol, he takes a deep breath before asking, “You gonna be brave for me?”

It’s been years, at least over a decade, since you heard Gator ask you that question. It was common when you were younger; you became your father’s punching bag early in life, whereas your best friend became your personal nurse. Over time, you learned how to tend to your wounds on your own, but Gator was the one that taught you the basics. As kids, you were both terrified of the damage adults could unleash, but he always held strong on the outside as he helped you, and always encouraged you to be strong, too.

You nod slowly, bracing yourself for the sting of the liquid. Cleaning a wound is not the worst pain you’ve ever felt, clearly, but it’s the sting that reminds you of how you were hurt to begin with as it lingers. The healing process. Everything becomes a reminder; even if the damage heals, you’re left ripping open the emotional wound when you begin to spiral. This time, you barely have hope, but it’s still there; you’re feeling a little more at ease with him helping than trying to tackle this alone.

Gator reaches around your head, pulling you towards him to kiss your temple quickly. “Tell me if you need a break, okay?”

Again, you nod, firmer this time. Gator pours rubbing alcohol onto the cotton before beginning to clean the skin around the cut. Some liquid seeped into the valley of the wound, and you hiss at the burn.

“M’sorry, darlin’.” He always hated this when you were kids, and he’s not a fan now. Helping you? Not a problem. He’d do it in a heartbeat. Never hated caring for you. But… Helping you keep a wound your abusive father gave you from becoming infected? Different story. “Deep breath f’me.”

You do as he says, screwing your eyes shut as you steel yourself for the burn. When the liquid makes its rough entrance, you’re biting your lip, holding your breath.

“Y’gotta breathe, baby.”

Forcing yourself to exhale, a whimper of pain slips out too. “Fuck, it’s been awhile.”

“What did Karen use on this?”

“No clue, but it was a lot kinder— fuck—“ He’s trying his best to keep a feathery touch as he cleans the blood up. “— t- than this.”

“I’ll run out and grab somethin’ kinder,'' Gator mumbles, keeping his focus on your cut, but he’s simultaneously keeping an eye on you, too. “Can’t now, though, it’s only midnight.”

“Shit, really? I’m sorry I woke—“

“Every time y’say sorry when you shouldn’t, I’m gonna spank ya’.” He’s joking, but you become stiff under his touch, and he realizes what he said wasn’t appropriate right now. “Shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have- I wouldn’t actually—“

Eyes still clamped shut, you relax under his touch again, and he sighs softly, relieved. “Don’t be. I … I don’t think I can do impact play for a while… I know we haven't tried it together yet, but I- I think I gotta keep it off limits for awhile.”

Gator stops, tilting your gaze back to his as he pauses cleaning your face. “We don’t have to do anythin’ for a while. Or ever. If you ain’t comfy with somethin’, don’t ever be afraid to tell me. A lot of it’s all new t’me.”

You nod, silently relieved. Not that you thought he’d push boundaries while you’re not doing well, but it helps to hear him verbalize it.

“Same to you, y’know. Anything. Ever. If I ever say or do anything you don’t like, tell me. Please. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” He tilts your face again, cleaning the last of the stubborn blood and fibers from his shirt he used earlier. You’re growing used to the burning sensation, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

“Anything… if it’s rougher or new for either of us, we gotta talk ‘bout it first. Deal?”

Gator doesn’t skip a beat when he agrees, “Deal.”

It’s quiet for a moment, just some small, weakly muffled whimpers here and there, with Gator’s soft breathing filling in the blanks. Finally, he throws the last used cotton pad aside. “Done. Well, we’re done with the hard part. Gon’ bandage this up and you’re good to go, baby.”

He begins to apply butterfly bandages across the open skin, his touch infinitely more soothing compared to the rubbing alcohol.

“Gator?”

“Yeah?”

“… I think m’still okay with spankin’, though.”

Pulling back after the last bandage sticks perfectly, he pulls back, scanning your features as you face him again.

“Y’sure?”

“Yeah. And if anythin’ changes, I’ll tell ya’. Promise.”

“Alright.” Gator disposes of the used supplies before turning back to you. “Not now, though. You need more rest, and I was just jokin’ anyway.”

“I don’t need more rest right now.” You know he’s caring for you and your needs first, but you wish he’d stop being a decent person for five seconds and pick up what the two of you started in his room. “I need to forget everythin’ that happened last night. I need you.”

Gator smirks softly, “While I’m honored, and I wish I could make you completely forget, it’s not smart or safe to tonight,” he spreads your legs, only to stand closer to you as he holds you close, “I don’t feel comfortable doing anything to ya’ right now, not while you’re goin’ through so much.”

Your first reaction is to pout, but you stop yourself. Even if you want him right now, he’s not comfortable, and you don’t want to make him feel worse. “Yeah… I respect that. Thanks for lookin’ out for me, Gator. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“Y’know, m’glad we can talk about this stuff.” He murmurs, face buried in your hair. “I don’t ever want to make ya’ feel unsafe or uncomfortable. Just want ya’ to feel loved, ‘cause ya’ are.” Distancing a bit, he kisses the top of your head before stepping back, hand held out for you. You grab it, using his grasp to balance as you slowly slide off the counter; Gator leads you back to bed, asking, “Hey… don’t feel pressured to agree to it… but can I wake ya’ up tomorrow?”

You know what he’s asking, and playfully smirk. “Yeah… I’m cool with that.”

————

Normally, you’re not the heaviest sleeper, but after the previous night, your body couldn’t get enough rest. Gator almost feels guilty trying to wake you up, but you’ve slept a good eight or nine hours straight through; probably the first normal amount of sleep at a decent time within the past week together.

Gator can’t help admiring how serene you look while you’re asleep; your pouty lips are parted ever so slightly as the untouched side of your face is snug against a pillow, smushing your face into the fluff. You’re cozy and calm, with your arms wrapped around one of his. Every so often, you make little hums, stirring before settling again.

Even though Gator was firm about not taking advantage of your vulnerability, what you initiated, after asking him first, he was more than fine with. Before falling asleep, the two of you got handsy with one another, though it never led to either’s release; it was carefree and mind numbing. Gator checked in multiple times with you, asking if you were okay, if it was alright to touch you, and so on. Each time you answered with the sweetest smile that you were fine with things.

Shortly after you tore off the sweatshirt you stole from him, your eyes fluttered shut, unable to even attempt to open them with all of the exhaustion. Gator held you close until he fell asleep, too.

Remembering all of that, his eyes wander down your body, pausing on the cute, black sheer bra you have on. Usually you don’t sleep in bras, but that had no chance to cross your mind before you zonked out. It’s a little snug on you, but he likes the way your soft, plushy curves spill over the cups just a bit. Your piercings are visible through the sheer fabric; it’s a casual, small detail that’s sending his thoughts spinning.

It also drives Gator to palm your breast, thumbing over the sensitive, pebbled skin, flicking lazily at the little barbell jewelry. You hum, huffing weakly just over the subtle touch. He was hoping to take his other arm back from your grasp, but you’re tightening your fingers around his bicep, leaving small crescent indents from your nails.

The reaction you give to that tiny action has Gator riled up already, but he reminds himself he wants to take his time to make you feel good. He languidly kisses along your jawline, avoiding your facial injury as best as he can, making his way to your neck as his hand still works at your chest. Another hum bubbles up from your chest, but it comes out as a whiny, needy groan instead. The vibration from the sound on Gator’s lips against your neck tickles him as he wanders down to the junction of your neck and shoulder. He sucks at a specific spot, one he’s taken notice of that you’re very sensitive in. He could do this all morning, pulling these sweet, fragile noises out of you; it’d be more than enough for him, but his craving to pleasure you is greater than his own desires right now.

You turn back towards him, hips fidgeting, searching for something to satisfy the ache and loneliness between your thighs. In one swift movement, Gator kisses down to your chest, dragging your bra down under your tits with his teeth before he latches onto you; his hand gingerly slides down to your core, slipping between your thighs. He makes a breathy, shuddered noise around your nipple at the feeling of how warm and wet you already are.

The movement makes you buck into his palm, where he adds pressure to your clit over the fabric of panties that match your bra; you squirm against his hand, dragging your slick along his palm. It’s taking everything within Gator not to pull back and lick off the excess arousal, so he keeps himself busy, tongue flicking at your piercing, with his teeth every so often clashing against the metal.

You let go of Gator’s arm, tangling your fingers in his hair where the styling gel lost its hold by now, pressing him closer into your chest. He looks up, and you’re still asleep. There’s a look of agonized pleasure on your features; mouth parting open as your breaths pick up into gasps, brows knitting together while your back arches, pushing yourself even closer into his face. Gator doesn’t bother holding back a groan as your pace picks up against his hand, grinding with a frenzied hope you’ll reach your high soon. You’re still asleep and unaware; Gator knows by now how you look and act when you’re asleep, but he never thought you could be so active when aroused and knocked out.

Still trying his best to be careful and gentle, he slowly pushes you onto your back, hand still between your thighs, mouth still on your nipple, and you stir, murmuring something under your breath. You’re panting softly while Gator switches sides, suckling on the neglected nipple, pinching and tweaking and flicking the other with his free hand.

Whimpers leave you louder than before, and though Gator loves teasing you, he’s trying to be good right now; his mouth leaves your skin, kissing down your soft tummy while rolling the thin straps of your underwear down your legs. You’re soaked, which isn’t surprising, but it gets Gator just as hard as the first time. He can feel himself leaking through his boxers already.

The softest “oh” escapes you as he’s leaving open mouthed, slow kisses along your folds, sucking gently at your swollen clit. That’s what begins to pull your eyes open, and as you awaken, Gator has his arms hooked under your legs, humming around your clit before he drags his nose down your core. You yelp, in a haze of pleasure and sleepiness, when he starts fucking his tongue into you; you can’t help from riding ever so slightly along the firm slope of his nose. He encourages it, pushing his face into you, which only makes his tongue delve deeper, earning a soft cry from you.

You finally glance down, watching Gator look back at you from between your legs; the sight alone is nearly enough to send you over the edge. You’re so needy, feeling so sensitive and dizzy. “… Gator?” You rasp out.

Gator smirks into your skin, sliding back up your folds to work on your clit again, fingers swapping places with his tongue inside of you. “Yeah?” He’s lapping at your bundle of nerves, and you can feel heat building up within you.

“Hi,” Is all you can think to rasp out; it’s small, needy, and makes Gator chuckle into your skin. That just makes you gasp as you grab onto his head, bucking against his mouth.

“Hi, darlin’.” He’s pulling back, causing you to whine in protest; his fingers still keep on, though. Spit follows his lips from your cunt, causing you to tighten around his fingers. “Lil’ spit slut,” Gator teases, but it just makes you clench again.

“C’mere,” You’re panting desperately while he moves up your body, and you’re grabbing at him wherever you can to pull him up faster; his fingers still within you, he begins slowing to a taunting pace.

“What’s up b—“ You cut Gator off, kissing him roughly, tongue dancing against his with ease from the mix of your slick with his spit in his mouth. He shudders a moan into you, fingers in your cunt losing any rhythm left. When you pull back, you’re the one looking pathetic, for once. “Open that pretty mouth, darlin’.” You do, sticking your tongue out; Gator holds your tongue out between his thumb and forefinger firmly in place, forcing out a thick string of spit onto your tongue. He moves his grasp onto the untouched side of your face, watching you swallow as his thumb grazes back and forth along your cheek. “Good girl,” his praise is low, gravelly, but still earns a smile from you all the same.

“You said you’re still alright with spankin’?”

Dumbly, you nod in a lust filled daze. “Mhm.”

“Flip over,” he orders, pulling his fingers out as you do. You whine again, feeling empty. “Can y’be patient for me?”

You shake your head ‘no’. “Why not, angel?”

“I need somethin’…”

Gator’s concerned, moving to look at you; the safe side of your face is on the bed as you’re laying on your belly. “You okay? Should we stop?”

Again, you shake your head. “What is it?”

“I- I’m… there’s a toy I want,” You murmur, shy unexpectedly. “Can we use it?”

Gator nods, kissing your temple before moving to your bag. “In here?”

“There’s a- um- there’s a hidden pocket, it’s in the zip pouch, inside the flap—“

Gator’s scrambling, hand landing on something small within the hidden pocket; he pulls it out, recognizing immediately what it is, blood rushing south.

“I- is it- is this what y’—“ He moves back to you, holding up a shiny, silver plug, with a cute little heart shaped gem at the end. “This?”

You smile bashfully, “Mhm.”

Gator wants to ask why on Earth did you bring several toys with you on this trip, but simply asks, “… You sure?”

“Only if you are, but it’s okay if—“

He’s quick, a little too eager to answer, “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Ever use one before on someone else?” Dumbfounded, he shakes his head in response. “It’s easy, but y’gotta go slow, okay?”

“Can y’tell me what to do?” Gator asks, voice trembling a little. He’s so aroused by this but nervous, too. “I’ve, uh… never used toys with someone… not there. Don’t wanna hurt ya’.”

You giggle at his nervous energy, not laughing at him, but it’s sweet that he wants to get it right. You reach for a pillow, shoving it under your hips, tilting your ass up and out for easier access.

Once more, you remind him, “If you’re not comfortable, we can stop.”

“Jus’ a lil’ nervous… but I’m more than fine with this, darlin’.”

“It’s just like usin’ fingers, gotta prep first, ‘kay?” You purr, giving him an encouraging look before burying your head into another pillow. “You won’t hurt me, promise. If ya’ do, y’know I’ll like it.”

“Yeah…” He trails off, thoughts spinning over your last comment as he ends up behind you again. He can’t take his eyes off of your dripping core. “… gotta do somethin’ first, though.” He murmurs, hands on your backside before he ducks down, mouth on you all over again. Yelping, you turn, neck craning to get a better view; the sight of Gator eating you out, plus the sensation of his ministrations make your eyes roll back, face falling back into the pillow.

You’re not expecting him to lick a stripe upwards, tongue trailing around your tight hole. It makes your knees weak, legs threatening to collapse, but he holds you up without interruption to the filthy act he started. Leaning back, he spits onto the taut ring before continuing to tease with his tongue; his fingers explore your cunt again, rubbing soft, slow circles onto your clit.

“Gator, what the fuck?” You breathe, looking back again. He’s worried he did something wrong, and stops. Frantic, you elaborate, “N- no, keep going, I just—“ He continues, making your brain melt before you can finish your thought. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do this? Any of this? Jesus fuck.”

“‘Member the story I told ya’?” He answers huskily in between motions, “Why I can’t go back to church?”

“Uh-huh…” Again, your face buries into the pillow, muffling your moans. Gator pulls back again, leaning forward and over you to pull your hair lightly, exposing your face again. You’re whining at the mess of sensations gripping his fingers inside of you. The thought of fucking around in a church, of all fucking places in the world, with Gator, does something to the ex-Catholic in you.

“Pastor’s daughter wasn’t as innocent as her daddy thought,” He’s traveling back down your body, he releases his grip on your hair, spitting again on your hole again. “Sure wasn’t as sweet as you, darlin’.” You’re gasping as he tapers his tongue into you, fingers matching the pace. He’s melting you into a subby, pliable wreck; you’d do anything he asked of you right now.

Brief spasms roll through you, and you’re giving into the urgent craving of more stimulation, trying to grind down onto the pillow you placed under yourself. Gator digs his grip into your ass, preventing you from grinding as he holds you in place. He pulls back again, removing his fingers, too. You’re furious at the sudden halt.

“Gator, seriously?!” You’re irritated, wishing you could feel some kind of friction against your clit, at least. A loud slap echoes in the room, followed by an aching sting on your backside. You turn again as the sting is smoothed over with his soft, kneading touch. You’re not as bold when you whimper out, “Why’d you stop?”

Gator doesn’t answer, just leans over you again, hand pulling your head back by the front of your throat. “Open.” You’re a little delayed in catching on, so he gently thumbs at your bottom lip. “I barely did anythin’ to ya’, how the hell are you spaced out already?” You open your mouth to answer, but he shoves your underwear between your lips, gagging you before you can speak. “Can you stay still and quiet for me? Or are y’gonna be a brat?”

His gaze locks on yours, narrowing your eyes back at him before spitting the fabric back out. “What d’you think?” Gator pushes your head out of his grip; you let your body collapse onto the bed with another whine, unsatisfied and still riled up.

Gator’s rummaging through a drawer somewhere, you’re too tired with a sour attitude to bother looking where he is, grumbling with disappointment. “Come onnnnnn, Gator. Let it go. We’re both too—“

“Up. Now.”

“No, I’m good here.”

“Yeah, I know you are, fuckin’ pillow princess.” He spanks you again, and you scoff, turning around to give him a piece of your mind, but any comebacks die before they even make it to your throat as your eyes land on him.

Gator’s wearing the camo pants you stole from him last week to enrage him and wind him up, and his work boots. There’s a bundle of satin black rope in his balled up fist that he throws onto the bed. He crouches down to the side of the bed you’re on, hand slipping gently into yours.

“You doin’ alright? Need anythin’?” You’ve been convinced he’s more of a sub than he realizes, but you’re impressed and taken aback at how good he is at taking care of you like a dom. You shake your head; it’s not enough to convince him. “We can stop. Or change direction, or whatever makes you feel good, darlin’. Gotta say it, though.”

“Um… remember last night I asked if you could make me forget everything? Even for a lil’ while?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah, just… I need it outta my head for a bit.” You gulp. Gator nods as he stands, fingers running through your hair in a soothing touch. “Can you behave?” The question makes you shrug playfully, the kind of reaction he expects. “C’mon, on the floor.”

“What’s the rope for?” You slide off the bed, kneeling in front of him, never breaking eye contact.

“Somethin’ else, baby. Can you multitask for me?”

“I guess.”

Gator leans down to you, squishing your face in his grip, again, avoiding your wound. His fingers are pushing your lips into a pout. “You’re the one who asked for a distraction.” He points out, and you’re sighing, defeated before your brat battle can even start.

“Yeah, fine. I can.” You glare as he lets go of your face, straightening up while unzipping his pants. It’s subtle, but you lick your lips, a subconscious reaction at this point whenever he’s exposed.

He slides a boot between your legs, nudging them open further while he frees himself, throbbing with desire already.

“You want me to—“

“I mean, if you don’t want to grind against something, we can stop.” Gator begins to slide his leg away, but you tug back, earning a quirked brow from him.

Shaking your head in a frenzy, you shift closer, sitting on the firm, leather material. It’s definitely not the softest thing you’ve felt on your clit, but it’s better than not being able to get off at all. Your hips roll carefully, unsure if it would hurt at first; it’s slightly rough, but it doesn’t feel bad. You can’t tell if it feels good because it actually feels good, or if you’re just that goddamn insatiable right now.

Gator has you subservient, ready to obey whatever orders he gives.

“If you needa’ stop and can’t talk, just, I dunno, punch my leg, or somethin’, got it?” You giggle at his suggestion but nod anyway. Carding fingers through your hair, he checks in again, “Hey, if this hurts,” He’s pointing to the injury, “you tell me, okay? Don’t want it splittin’ open again.”

“I got somethin’ else you could split open,” You tease, taking him in entirely at once. Gator sucks in a breath while your sly comment earns a firm movement between your legs; he’s pushing the top of his boot against your clit, causing your whimper to be strangled by his cock down your throat.

It takes a bit to find a steady pace and balance that works for you between grinding and sucking, but once you do, your thoughts begin floating away. No pain, no sadness, only you and Gator matter in this moment right now.

“You always take me so well, darlin’.” His praise drives you to push yourself fully onto his cock, tongue flat and broad on the underside, while his tip gags the back of your throat as precum drips out. While your mouth bobs on him, he’s mesmerized by how pretty your lips look around him. He thinks back to the night you two played that drinking game, how you took swigs of tequila straight from the bottle, and how blood rushed to his dick from the sight alone of how your pout puckered around something while occupied.

Gator’s hips stutter, causing you to gag as he thrusts unexpectedly. You pull back, lips swollen and red, practically drooling onto yourself while you try to keep pleasuring yourself, too. He notices the way his boot glistens when you grind back and forth, wondering if this would ruin the material for a moment, before realizing he doesn’t care, not one bit. Seeing you blissed out from humiliation is causing him to chase his climax faster than he wanted to.

You glide your tongue along the underside of his shaft, hand following to stroke him while you suck his balls slowly, humming as you do. The sensation makes him lightheaded; he grabs your hair for something to hold onto, but it’s not enough to steady him.

“Fuck… look at you, greedy lil’ thing…” Gator’s head falls back as you glide your tongue back up his shaft, sucking on the head while your tongue flits the top, collecting the salty arousal in your mouth before blowing him again. Your cheeks hollow out as your fingers play with his balls; Gator’s trying his best to not collapse on the spot, dirty talk still flowing, “See? All y’needed to stop brattin’ was your mouth filled up, make ya’ dumb by fuckin’ your face. You’re practically an angel when ya’ can’t talk. All that chokin’ and gaggin’ will do ya’ some good.”

Your body shudders over his words, your high rippling through you as you keep your pace, both with your hips and your mouth, but your repetitions begin to falter. You can’t help drooling around his cock while soaking the hard leather between your thighs.

“That’s right, cum on that boot like the filthy brat you are.” He’s watching you fall apart, eyes rolling back as you’re moaning around him. His face flushes red as he starts coming undone immediately after. You barely have a chance to relax as you come down from your high before he’s roughly fucking your face, letting out a low, gravelly groan; both of his hands are on your head, keeping you in place. You try to pull back, but he refuses to let go. “Just a lil’ longer, darlin’, you can do it.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and with one look up at Gator in this state, he’s gone, releasing into your mouth while your name falls from his lips. “Fuck, y’look so pretty when you cry.” The praise makes your stomach flutter as you swallow the thick saltiness on your tongue. Gator pulls out, trying to catch his breath; you move off of him, climbing onto the bed before pulling him on top of you.

He wraps his strong arms around you, still panting along with you. Little fleeting kisses are scattered across your face, then, he remembers your injury, sitting up with worry. “Baby, turn your head for me.” As you do, his gaze falls onto the small droplets of blood on the sheets. They’re fresh. His eyes dart back to you; it’s not bleeding like it did in the middle of the night, but it’s enough to send him into panic, again.

Gator jumps up from the bed, forgetting his pants were still around his ankles; he stumbles into the dresser, but catches himself in time before making his next destination on the floor. You’re leaning up, arms propped up on the bed behind you, giggling at everything. A little blood dribbles down your jaw from the cut, and Gator’s scrambling to untie his boots and get his pants off— a more logical idea would be pulling the pants back on, but his mind’s definitely clouded post climax.

“Fuckin’ hell, Gator. We’re a mess.” You rasp out, throat a little sore. He manages to get everything off, running to the bathroom before coming back, arms full of the random first aid items he has. He throws them onto the bed haphazardly before jumping back onto the mattress, turning your head.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was hurtin’?” Gator’s applying pressure, soaking up the small amount of blood. “You coulda’ stopped me.”

“Yeah, but it’s been hurtin’ since it happened. Thought I was just cryin’, that’s all. It’s okay.”

Gator gives you a stern look as he cleans the dried blood off again, while peeling back the bandages. “It won’t heal if you don’t let it.”

“I know, it just felt good makin’ you feel good.” You answer, still dazed and blissed out. “You’re funny, as soon as we’re done fuckin’ around, you turn into the safety police.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to hurt you. Fuck, I said y’look pretty when you cry, that wasn’t— god, m’such a fuckin’ moron,” Gator’s cursing and wincing at himself. His voice softens before he murmurs, “Gotta be brave again, okay, darlin’?”

“Okay. And y’know that was fine to say, right? It was kinda sweet in a fucked up way, and I know what we say to each other in bed doesn’t leave scenes.” You answer, distracting yourself from the initial sting with a follow up, “If you hurt me, it’s okay, y’know. If it’s part of a scene, you know I like it.”

Gator’s quiet as the burn of the rubbing alcohol gets harder to ignore.

“Do you not like it?” You ask, worried, turning your head sharply to search his expression. “Fuck, we don’t have to do anything, I’m so sorry if I made you un—“

“No, we’re usually on the same page… turn your head back,” You follow his order, and he continues disinfecting the wound. “I just think after last night, I’m havin’ a hard time separating the pain you went through and when you ask for it consensually. I know the difference between the two, but my mind keeps yellin’ at me that it’s wrong.”

“Then we can stop. We don’t ever have to even touch the harder stuff ever again.”

Gator shakes his head, opening new bandages, “Just give me a lil’ while, is that okay?”

“Of course, it’s always okay to stop if you need time. Or stop completely.”

“No… I like learnin’ new things from ya’, and exploring this kinda stuff. I wouldn’t want it with anyone else.” Gator’s determined to keep his touch light while he places butterfly bandages on your face again. “But I also love you, and wanna show that. I wanna protect ya’.”

“Gator, you already and continue to show me these things. You make me feel protected. We can take things slower if that’s easier.”

“It’d be hard, but right now at least, I- I-“

“Hey, it’s okay,” You’re hugging him tightly. “Do you need anythin’? You wanna just chill the rest of the day? Or do you need space? I can give you space, no problem.”

Gator hugs back in the way you love most, where he settles his head on top of yours, shielding you from everything wrong in your life when he wraps his arms around you.

“I appreciate ya’ askin’, angel. But I’m okay, and I should be taking care of you right now anyway.”

You’re shaking your head, still pressed against his chest. “Drops can happen for doms, too.”’

“I didn’t know that, but I promise, I’m okay right now. Thank you for lookin’ out for me.” Gator gathers the first aid supplies after letting you go, mindlessly tossing them onto a random surface in his room.

“I know we just woke up… and we were gonna keep going, but I’m so tired. Is it okay if I rest my eyes a little?”

“‘Rest your eyes’ okay, old lady.” Gator lightly teases, throwing some clean clothes on. “You can sleep, it’s okay. I… I have somethin’ I gotta do, are you okay with me leavin’ for a bit?”

“You’ll come back, right? Aren’t you afraid of your dad?” You don’t mean for the uncertainty and anxiety to be so bold in your question, but Gator can tell you’re worried.

“Honestly, terrified,“ He’s quick to answer, afraid to even speak it into existence, even if he’s always been afraid of Roy. “You’ll be safe here, promise.” You know he can’t promise that, and he can tell you’re not buying it. Gator asks, “I didn’t get to show ya’ gun safety stuff… but, you want one, just in case?”

“Your whole place is filled with them, so I’m good. Not like I’d know how to use one.” You cringe and shake your head. “Still scared of them, anyway.”

With brows raised and a scoff, Gator laughs at your logic, “But you want to try gun pl—“

“Totally different! Besides—“

Groaning as you get up, you lean over the bed to dig through your backpack, pulling out the tiniest knife, flicking it open to show Gator; it has a pastel pink handle, serrated edges, and the words ‘Mean Bitch’ engraved on the blade.

“— I’ll be okay, I have my knife in case!”

“Does that really say—“

“Shut up, I thought it was cute.” You grumble playfully, but curiosity sets in, with a hint of worry. “Where are you going?”

“Well, y’need better stuff for that cut, and the rest is a… surprise.” Gator grins at you, adding to your suspicions of what this ‘surprise’ is. He leans in to kiss your forehead before heading for the door. “I’ll be back, my phone’s on if ya’ need.”

As he’s about to leave, you softly call out, “Gator?”

“What’s up?” He stops, full attention on you, looking you over, making sure everything’s alright, at least for the moment.

Bunching up the blankets around your shoulders and curling into them, you smile, “I love you.”

Everything feels so unsure in this moment, hanging on the edge of whatever’s about to break next, between the fear of retaliation from either of your fathers, or how he’s going to handle the heartbreak of you leaving the next day. Everything feels unsure, except you.

Despite it all, with ease, he responds with sincerity, “Love y’too, darlin’.”

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman smut #my fics #part time soulmate full time problem

[the-somwthing]

I gotta talk to people so bad so I’m just gonna spout something that’s been on my mind for a while

I see a lot of people always describing Joel and Scott’s rivalry as one sided. Like, Joel just hates Scott and Scott doesn’t care? And while I feel like that statement is technically true, it doesn’t really describe the situation very well.

It sort of implies that Scott’s never out to get Joel, and Joel is just coming after Scott for no reason. I won’t deny that Joel does like to come after Scott without provocation sometimes, but like… we are ignoring the fact that 3/5 Joel final deaths have been at Scott’s hand?

In two seasons, those kills were a result of a deliberate hunt to get rid of Joel specifically. In Last Life, I’ll give him a bit of a pass, since Joel did kind of start the fight with a big explosion and had been the “villain” for the entire season, it makes enough sense to try to end him like that.

But in LIMITED LIFE?? As a Joel viewer I am NEVER getting over the feeling of watching his final episode (not negative, just baffling in a way I find pretty fun lol). Scott randomly says “Joel needs to die” and everyone just agrees I guess? And then Joel is being witch hunted. “Oh but it’s because he was getting so many kills! Duh!” Grian had more. Grian LITERALLY got a quad kill (ON SCOTT FOR THAT MATTER) and Scott’s like “JOEL is the problem, the murderous evil of the server”. LIKE HELLO?? They’re literally allies, Scott could’ve said “we need to get rid of the bad boys” but he was COOL with Grian. He was letting Grian LIVE. Like HELLO??? WHAT DID JOEL DO FR 😭 Joel was literally just trying to survive btw, his fighting back was very defensive rather than offensive, and would back off when not being actively attacked. With the exception of trying to get kills cuz he was on less than ten minutes, of course. But Scott had been hunting him before then.

And then I guess I have to mention Secret Life’s Scott-Killing-Joel. I don’t think that final kill was especially targeted on either of their sides, the battle just turned out that way. I could rewatch to see if there’s more to it but for now this is how I see it.

Okay, I’m turning this into a full analysis of their rivalry, idc, I’m literally obsessed with their dynamic. I’m adding a cut here.

ALRIGHT WHERE WAS I. RIGHT. Finished explaining the final deaths, but there’s stuff before that! Let’s take a look at their rivalry 🥰

Let’s go in order, shall we? 3rd Life!! I am obsessed with them in this season ahahahhaga anyways. Joel comes after Scott unprovoked. Simple, this is how everyone sees their rivalry. HOWEVER. Joel is FULLY WILLING to work with him anyways. Maybe you could excuse the dark oak thing as it was early on and they were just trying to take down a monopoly. But in the finale they reconcile and spend much of the session together. They established early on that Joel had been trying to kill Scott, but they’re both perfectly happy to team up instead (which btw they did because they both happened to be allied with Scar).

Then Last Life. Joel does hate Scott in it, but I’m not sure I would say it’s without reason. Joel being boogey in ep2 was majorly important, and he killed Scott. But that wasn’t targeted. He had attempted multiple times to kill other people. Scott was one of the only (and closest) people who didn’t already know he was boogeyman. Then of course Scott tells Pearl they can fight back and has her kill Joel, sending him to red. Perfectly reasonable for all parties imo, and a good enough reason for Joel to target Scott seeing as being red early on had a huge impact on him.

Of course LL is also where Joel says Scott just looked at him funny one day and that’s why he hates him, which is a great line. I do believe he would bother Scott just for the rivalry, but unlike in 3rd Life, Scott had done things to make Joel never consider stopping.

Then Double Life. Erm. Literally nothing, except that I believe the only reason Scott and Pearl were the last pair is because Joel wasn’t there to kill them, since apparently he’s the only one who can make them lose lives. Wild. They were guaranteed to win ever since the lava portal trap. (obviously I’m joking but like how is he the only outside force to kill that pair). I will clarify for analysis sake that Joel’s first kill on them had nothing to do with Scott, and the second kill was to Scott but it was because of the life colors, not really anything about their rivalry. It was technically targeted at Scott specifically but not cuz he hated him, instead because Pearl had a weird “alliance” with the reds.

Then Limited Life!!! What the heeelll was happening lmao. I already talked about the final moment so before that. Erm. I’m blanking out I’m listening to bad romance it’s distracting me. You know what let’s move on I can’t remember what they did, the final death I explained previously is enough data for now.

Secret Life. Oh boy. I’ll say it again, I was secretly hoping for more Scott/Joel dynamic when it started but I doubted it would happen but we got FED!!! I was so excited when I saw the assassin task (as was Joel). Anyways. Throughout the season Joel was doing the whole hating Scott thing, Scott caught onto the bit and played into it somewhat by talking more about how Joel always hates him for no reason. We SHOULD be able to disregard Joel targeting Scott for the assassin task as it was a task, but to be fair after reading it Joel said “oh my gosh is this my dream?” He was super happy to be assigned to assassinate Scott LMAO. That has to count for something.

I feel like the rivalry was fairly obvious, so I need to point out the outlier moments in SL. While Joel goes on about how Scott should die, he happily trades with him and swapped gifted hearts with zero hesitation. In the final session, he and Scott ended up on the same side. I believe Joel may have been slightly annoyed at being on a team with him but accepts it nonetheless. The only reason Scott ends up killing Joel is because their team won, so they had to turn on each other. As previously stated it wasn’t especially targeted, it was a 2v2.

And then if you noticed from me saying 3/5 games, I’m not counting Real Life, but I’ll bring it up here. Scott literally says “since it’s real life we can be friends now since we’re friends in real life” (one of the many reasons I consider RL noncanon tbh, Scott literally mentions in-universe that this season is different so they can act differently, also what is the in-universe explanation for “friends in real life”). Aside from a reminder that Joel doesn’t actually hate Scott irl and this is just fun game rp stuff, this shows that Scott really did catch onto the rivalry bit, and really does just bring it up more. Joel had just arrived when Scott brought it up. Joel agrees to being friends in Real Life. This holds little relevance to my analysis since I don’t view RL as canon but you can keep it in mind.

Now that I’ve laid out their rivalry in a simplified summary, let me ACTUALLY analyze it! What did I mean all the way back at the start of the post when I said “Scott and Joel’s rivalry being one sided is somewhat accurate but I feel it misrepresents their relationship”?

Well, I believe it’s true that (at least up until Secret Life), Scott didn’t care about the rivalry while Joel did. But that doesn’t mean Scott never targeted Joel, as I said he’s witch-hunted him twice. It’s just it was never personal to Scott. I once saw a post(s) I really enjoyed, an analysis on Scott. Saying that he doesn’t actually value being loyal, he values being fair. Then there was the addition that it’s based on what he thinks is fair. I feel like this is 100% true for his thing with Joel. Scott views Joel as a force that has to be stopped, he’s gone too far, he needs to be stopped, it’s only fair for all the suffering he’s caused. He doesn’t stop to think about how killing is the whole point of this game, how other people are doing the same things, how many times he has killed Joel. Joel hasn’t killed Scott permanently before, he has killed him though, but not as much as Scott has killed Joel. To Scott, that doesn’t matter, Scott kills Joel for a reason, for justice, while Joel kills just for the sake of it. Whether or not that idea is true is up to you to interpret for yourself, but to Scott it’s true. Joel is more of a wildfire that needs to be put out than a rival.

Let’s look at Joel’s side of things. He does hate Scott and target him for no reason. The rivalry is one sided, where Joel sees a rival Scott sees some random danger that needs to be dealt with. I can’t tell you why Joel hates Scott. It’s not really the point of my analysis. I’ve seen ppl say it’s because of previous series they’ve had together (they’ve been rivals for ages!) but for my headcanons they don’t remember those, tho very few feelings from their past lives may linger, so perhaps that does explain it. For the sake of my analysis though we won’t be looking deep into why Joel likes to poke at Scott. It’s cuz he looked at him funny one day remember?

So we establish that Joel needlessly attacks Scott. But if you’ll notice from my summaries, he is fully willing to put aside that hatred. It’s conditional (yes it is the default, but still). If Scott treats Joel kindly, Joel will attempt to reciprocate it. Let’s look at this again:

3L: Joel targets Scott, Scott kind of just gives him a disapproving look every time and doesn’t fight back. Joel ends up feeling somewhat guilty, and in the end has no problems teaming up with Scott.

LL: Scott was the main cause of Joel turning red, Joel targets him constantly. Scott ends up permanently killing Joel to put an end to his madness.

DL: erm. Well it’s worth mentioning Joel never specifically targeted Scott for no reason. ALSO WORTH MENTIONING SCOTT BURNED THE RELATION??? This season was a bit of a switch-up. I need to rewatch to see if Scott had any good reason to do that lmao I don’t really remember, I hardly remembered he was responsible.

LimL: Scott deems Joel to be a server menace who needs to die, Joel (who doesn’t really understand why he needs to die) tries negotiating many times but Scott insists. He kills Joel.

SL: Joel gets task to target Scott, is thrilled. He fails miserably, losing people he cares about in the process. Vows to kill Scott, it’s like his main goal now. Still accepts every peace offering from Scott with little to no hesitation, to the point of eventually teaming with him until they’re forced to go against each other and Scott kills Joel again.

So basically you can see, every time Scott does something to wrong Joel, Joel goes hard on the rivalry, while if he doesn’t and offers peace, Joel will lay off. Secret Life was a weird middle ground, where Scott had done things to wrong Joel, however those things weren’t entirely his fault so when he offered peace to Joel, Joel would still accept. A confusing time for Joel I’m sure.

I will say a disclaimer here, I’m not saying Scott shouldn’t ever fight back against Joel. If he’s targeting you for no reason, it’s your decision if you’ll try to befriend him to make him stop or fight back. I support fighting back. I’m just saying that befriending him is a proven method to work, but I don’t think Scott has exactly noticed that and instead just assumes that Joel will stop at nothing to end him.

Another thing I wanted to talk about but forgot what the natural and intuitive transition into it was gonna be. Scott has permakilled Joel 3 times. Joel has permakilled Scott 0 times.

Joel had started the series off picking on Scott for no reason, and has never succeeded. Scott has won this battle three times. At this point, it’s honestly finally somewhat justified for Joel to come after Scott. That guy has specifically targeted and hunted him out of 2 seasons, and took him out of a 3rd as well. Joel has taken Scott out of 0. At this point, I feel like Joel needs that closure, to finally kill Scott, and who knows if he’ll ever get it. If you look at the fandom, even fans are hoping Joel will kill Scott because of this. So imagine how Joel feels! But obviously Scott wouldn’t just let him (okay. Well. Actually. It’s Scott. He kind of lets people do that all the time. But only allies…). Scott will be waiting for Joel to target him once more, and deal with it the way he always does. But who knows if it’ll turn out different?

Which reminds me that I pinpoint SL as the season Scott finally notices this “one sided rivalry”. We all know Scott loves drama, so when he finally noticed Joel had been hating him the whole time, he kept bringing it up. And it wasn’t just for SL only, he brought it up the moment he saw Joel in RL. I don’t count RL as canon but it does prove that Scott hasn’t let go of the rivalry now that he’s finally realized it. I don’t know if there will be a 6th season, but if so I wouldn’t be surprised if Scott brings up the rivalry. Idk if he would make it a big deal, but he would surely at least mention it.

Anyways, if you think I’m done with my little analysis, you’re wrong!!! I’m done with the things I see as pretty factual, but now we’re gonna get into more fanon headcanony type of territory!!!

…but, maybe I’ll make that its own post. Stay tuned and thanks for reading!

#trafficblr #life series #traffic analysis #< is that for this fandom or like. real life traffic. lmk #life series scott #life series joel #secret life spoilers #limited life spoilers #double life spoilers #last life spoilers #3rd life spoilers #ALSO WARNING THIS IS SOSO LONG IT TOOK OVER AN HOUR HELPPP

[respectthepetty]

Hello hello! I finally caught up on DFF a few days ago and have been reading a bunch of meta ever since, but there are some things I can’t follow. Maybe you can help me?

First off, we keep talking about there being a Final Girl, but why is everyone so sure that there will be one? I could see more people surviving or the story going in a different direction entirely. Where does this conviction come from?

Then, I’m on board with the idea of hallucinations, but one thing that always bothers me is the question of how you could make sure that they all hallucinate the very same thing? I don’t know how hallucination-inducing drugs work, but that seems kind of weird to me.

Also, who is Tan and who is Perth again? This is such a dumb question, but I’m terrible with names and faces, and I know most of the characters now, but I keep mixing up these two.

Thank you so much for your time!

Anon, let me answer your last question first:

This is Mio who plays Tan in the series. Tan is part of the friend group but came along after Non disappeared.

This is Perth but it is unknown who he is playing in the series. He was only in the background of this scene in the dark jacket with the grey shirt.

As for the other questions, unfortunately, I cannot help you because unlike the rest of these perfectly normal people watching Dead Friend Forever, I'm crazy.

And because I'm crazy, I do NOT care about "reasoning" when it comes to my wack-a-doodle-doo theories. Therefore, White will be the Final Gay simply because I want him to be, and because none of these other motherf*ckers deserve to live.

Yeah, Fluke hasn't actively done anything, but he knew all of this was happening and turned a blind eye, so if Por is dead, why not just kill all of them? Well, expect for the actual killers, Tan and Phi, and the Final Gay White.

Por's death could have just been an accident, and everyone else will get out of this alive, but . . . I don't want it. I want Fluke to shoot Top, Tee to wrestle the gun away from Fluke only for it to go off and kill Fluke, White to kill Tee and run off scared, Tan to "die" because of an asthma attack (but he won't be dead), which will leave Jin and Phi as the only survivors, only for Jin to be stabbed by Phi right before White shows up with help.

Do you feel the crazy? Do you see what I was saying about myself? You cannot ask me logical questions because I am not using deductive skills. I'm operating off of vibes and vibes alone, which is why I felt Phi was sus in episode one. It's also why I don't like Jin. It's a vibe.

Which brings me to your drugs question - The vibes are off!

I think that Non is still alive and running around scaring them all, so not everything is because of the drugs, but if the energy isn't right, if the mood isn't chill, if the vibe isn't good, the drugs are going to hit different. The figurative trip will be bad. So if the literal trip involves the boys talking about Non and seeing videos of Non while they run through the woods for their lives, whatever drugs are in their system aren't going to be happy in a body with that amount of stress, and their brain will focus on Non and the masked killer. In fact, a common side effect of most party drugs is paranoia.

Hell, even some known prescriptions for depression and anxiety can cause these side effects.

Then again, I just do drugs. I don't know the actual science behind them, but I do know if the vibes ain't right, you're not gonna have a good night.

And these boys seem to be having a really shitty night.

But also, the boys haven't all seen the same thing. Fluke saw Por's eyes bleeding and attacking him. White saw a rash on his skin. Jin saw Mr. Keng. Top saw the masked killer trying to axe him (I think part of this was real) and thought he saw a masked killer in the road, so he scared Tee going on about it. Top also might be having a reaction to it which is why he was seizing.

PSA: Test your drugs, kids. Even Amazon, which I think is the devil, sells drug testing kits.

In case you have no idea what this image is about, the joint in her hand is laced with cocaine and was probably one of the reasons her ass was going through endless time loops, so don't do coke. Or things laced with it. Unless you wanna go into other dimensions and DIE every single time. Okay? M'kay!

So to wrap up my special brand of crazy:

White will be the Final Gay because like the Backstreet Boys, "I want it that way."

Everyone deserves to die because Phi is a cop's kid, and if the cops are good for anything, it's covering up the truth, so let this work in our favor for once.

Drugs be drugging, and sometimes people will think of the boy they tried to kill when under the influence, but it's a toss up. Who can predict what a person will see? So, like, don't betray people and you won't hallucinate being stalked by your own guilt *cough* Judas *cough*

Oh, and always test your drugs.

I hope this helped you, but it probably didn't. Either way, I'll see you in the tags in a few hours after Non finally loses his shit.

Slay, Non, slay!

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #I wrote what I wrote #I have theories for days #but it's all based on vibes

[georgies-ftts]

my thoughts and opinions on this weeks episode as someone who didn’t have time to watch last weeks episode, has never watched live american telly before and has discovered a new found hatred for your adverts. Also i swear a lot.

let’s begin

(spoilers obviously don’t be a knob)

1. he cannae be captain he’s only got two stripes on his epilette why are we focusing so much on this man

2. Bobby eyeing up that gun I like that (the acting)

3. this guy is giving me uncanny valley and i don’t like it

4. hehe dongle

5. i mean fair enough… in and out just like he said

6. Hen love of my life where the hell have you been loca

7. “and you won’t be anymore either” that’s actually dead funny to me

8. husbands that saw together survive trauma together <3

9. “everyone survived” i know foreshadowing when i see it

10. there’s a lot of drunk driver hatred (as deserved) somethings gonna occurr

11. oh he’s dead… lol karma fuckhead

12. Hen, i love you but why can noone on telly give me actual realistic CPR… break them ribs girl

13. christ these american adverts are weird

14. let me tell you advertising prescription medicine isn’t actually a normal thing to do

15. I don’t know boss man am no a dr but that’s an awful lot of blood are you sure you should still be breathing????

16. “Are you happy” “Yeah, Yeah I am” i have a feeling that’s all about to change buddy

17. just me or can anyone else not see a fucking thing that’s going on this episode why’s everyone in the dark for?

18. moving on from that i love the lighting in the office scene… chefs kiss

19. EXCUSE ME SHE WAS DOING HER JOB, NEXT YOU’LL SUSPEND HER FOR CODLING THE DRUNK DRIVER AND GIVING HIM TEA AND CHEEK KISSES PISS OFFFFF

20. Why do American comm’s systems always fail whenever you actually need them

21. They were axed to pieces. I will let you off -_- this time…

22. “I didn’t shoot him” honestly… same i hope you get yer pay out boss

23. Athena please for the love of god pop a paracetamol or a codeine and chill the fuck out

24. cause it has never been hard enough for them you just had to add a bastard bomb

25. ITS BEEN 5 MINUTES WHY MORE ADVERTS

26. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ADVERTISING TO YOUR CITIZENS

27. The Rookie ad i love it carry on

28. If he wasn’t under the influence then he was just being a cunt and hen had every right to react as such thankyou very much

29. Oh my fuck what is happening - don’t tear them apart i’ll start crying

30. Bitch you’re taking on water stop being a pussy and help

31. “Don’t test me.” Queen, you rag his arse

32. “port stabilisers are gone” surely you should be tilting like a bitch right now or did i miss a frame

33. MORE FUCKING ADVERTS????

34. why’s that lizard from london?

35. WHY ARE YOU ADVERTISING DEMENTIA MEDICATION THAT IS LITERALLY ADVERTISED ALSO AS A DEATH PILL WHAT DO YOU MEAN COMA AND DEATH THATS NOT HELPING

36. “i didn’t save him either” he quite literally refused your help despite being detained

37. didn’t get that SS Menow reference… try the Mayflower next time

38. “Saving the ship” “course she is” GIVE THEM ONE MOMENT OF PEACE PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU

39. okay good they are tilting like a bitch i will shut my mouth

40. NO STOP TILTING LIKE A BITCH I DONT CARE ABOUT REALISM I TAKE IT BACK NO

41. HOW MANY MORE ADVERTS DO YOU NEED

42. i don’t know but all your meds just seem to be doing the opposite of.. you know… keeping you alive.

43. woah therapy flash back get me one of those

44. you forgot to mention imminent death in your therapy session Mr Sir

45. “We did what we had to do” YOU’RE ALLOWED TO LIVE TOO.

46. “I couldn’t save my first family and I can’t save you either” and what if that was my last straw Robert Nash

47. ABC you can tone down the writing now i’m fucking sobbing

48. FUCK YOU AUSTRALIAN MAN I WAS CRYING MY EYES OUT

49. glad the us also have those Haribo ads

50. first time in my almost 20 years of life where i’ve seen an ADVERT for ANTIDEPRESSANTS that also actively make you MORE DEPRESSED

51. Hen i knew you were slaying you’ve never not slayed <3

52. no need for it was there mr boss man? no didn’t think so

53. You have no jurisdiction past the Gulf of Mexico??? ummmm??? distressed cruise ship full of your citizens???? idk??? do something????

54. oh. welp. no surviving that one, have fun with poseidon my loves

55. i don’t know about you but once i’ve been capsized like that in anything bigger than a kayak im giving up…

#911 series #911 abc #911 show #911 fox #911 spoilers #911 7x02 #athena grant #bobby nash #911 bobby #911 athena #911 hen #henrietta wilson #evan buck buckely #911 evan buckley #911 eddie #eddie diaz #911 chimney #chimney han #911 maddie #maddie buckley #bathena #bobby x athena

[morallyinept]

A full transcribe of JOEL MILLER'S dialogue/lines from the TV show THE LAST OF US.

EPISODE 5 - ENDURE AND SURVIVE

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

Okay.

That’s right.

Everything is great.

Can I sit up?

Who are you?

__________________

I’m Joel. Look, you ate, we didn’t kill each other, let’s call this a win-win and move on. 

__________________

No FEDRA. 

I always heard KC FEDRA was-

But you’re not FEDRA.

I don’t work with rats. 

Why help us?

You seem capable enough. You’re armed. 

So, how are we gettin’ out?

Kansas City has a subway?

You’re right. It’s a great plan. So what do you need me for? 

So, you want us goin’ into a tunnel?

You've been down there?

What if there’s more?

Oh, that’s your great plan?

__________________

We need to get outta sight. 

Get your gun out. 

Shh. “The plan is good?” We’ve been down here two seconds. We don’t know anything. 

I’m not her dad. Just point your light forward and be ready to run. 

__________________

No.

I heard about places like this. People went underground after Outbreak Day, built settlements. 

Maybe they didn’t follow the rules and they all got infected.

Keep it down, we’re not out yet. 

Okay. If you were collaboratin’ to take care of him, I… I shouldn’t have said what I said. I don’t know your situation. And I’m not saying they should let it go but, all things considered, seems kinda cruel… to send a whole army after you for that.

We’ve waited long enough. 

__________________

Do you know where we are?

So much Goddamn talkin’.

Move, move! Go! 

Shut up.

What are you doin’?!

Alright. Stay here. 

If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back and then take I’ll him out. 

It’s dark and he has shit aim. Nobody's gonna kill me. 

Do you trust me?

__________________

Put the gun down. Slide it over to me… and then stay up here for another hour. That’s all you have to do. Please don’t do it. Please. 

Fuck.

*Shouting in distance* Run! Run! 

Run! 

Fuck!

This way now! Move! 

__________________

Yeah, I think… It’s easier when you're a kid, anyway. You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part. 

What’s that comic book say? “Endure and survive?” 

Yeah, it's not great. 

Look, I don’t exactly know how I’m gettin’ to Wyoming. I’m probably walkin’. But… you know if you want to…

__________________

Aargh! 

Ellie… Are you okay? 

Easy, easy, easy. Henry, gimme the gun. Henry, gimme the gun. 

Shh. 

Henry, gimme the gun. Gimme the gun. Gimme the gun, Henry. Gimme the gun. Shh. 

Henry, no! 

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal character #joel miller the last of us #joel miller dialogue #pedro pascal character dialogue

[sebsxphia]

seb I just had the cutest thought after watching an episode of TLOU

regressed!Reader and Joel going back to readers old house and Joel finds their childhood stuffie that they forgot about because they forgot to pack it when they left all those years ago 🥺🥺🥺🥺

- Enoch <3

@beachbabey oooooooooof enoch!!!!! this is criminal!!!!!!!!

i’m thinking about this with second game joel where you have a safe home to go back to after.

you didn’t plan to go back to your home town. you were passing by the exit and if joel confirmed it was clear, you would make a detour through and maybe venture into your old home. you had enough supplies for this run to last for a couple extra days if you needed it and once joel confirmed your town was clear, you headed over.

you were both relieved and scared stiff. you hadn’t been back since the outbreak and you remembered all of the nightmare memories you held there. but with joel sticking close by, you were able to cross the threshold into your home.

it was still the same, yet at the same it wasn’t recognizable in the slightest. mother nature had completely taken over and it lived in every room of the house, creeping into every nook and cranny.

your childhood bedroom was no different and you remembered something as you looked over at your bedsheets that were faded with mould and sunlight over time. you peeled back your pillow, letting the vines break away and it was right there, just as you had left it.

“oh my god…” your voice was muttered quieter than a whisper, but joel could hear a pin drop.

“what is it?”

you fished them out and turned around to joel, clutching your childhood stuffed toy to your chest. they were coated in cobwebs and dirt, but they had survived, even after all these years.

“when we left, my mom told us we were gonna come back and we couldn’t take much, so i… i left them here. i never came back.”

your hands ran over their matted fur and joel noticed the forlorn look on your face and his heart twanged in his chest. you had two stuffed toys back in wyoming, but they were ones you’d found on runs and who you could fix up and clutch tightly to your chest. neither of them were as personal as this.

“take ‘em back with us. we’ll clean ‘em up when we’re home. you never have to go without ‘em again, little one.” joel soothed his hand through your hair at the name, knowing this is what you needed more than anything right now.

crashing falling down the stairs kicking down a door!!!! thank you so much for this totally sweet thought my love!!! i need him and this please!!!! 💌

#💌you’ve got mail #joel miller #sebs masterlist #beachbabey <33 #🐻 enoch #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x little!reader

[luulapants]

ok listen. LISTEN.

first of all let’s address that TV writers apparently believe rebar is the greatest threat to our society since quicksand. let’s address that. but specifically, let’s look at outcomes:

Cordelia Chase, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

OG rebar queen. Impaled. Outcome? Went to the hospital, was well enough to dump her bf after, had no lasting health issues.

Chris Argent, Teen Wolf

Homoerotically nailed to a filthy sewer wall with rebar, which was then bent while it was inside him. Disgusting! Best efforts to nail down a timeline on this episode find that Chris must have been stuck in the sewer for at least a day before rescue. Outcome? Quietly reminded his body that infections are for women and homosexuals, presumably fashioned himself a DIY colostomy bag, then immediately took an 8 hour drive to Mexico to fire two guns simultaneously.

Whoever Pedro Pascal plays in The Last of Us

I’ll be honest, I don’t give even a little bit of a shit about this show but I saw a post that Pedro Pascal got rebar’d and supposedly is gonna be ok despite zero medical intervention and his caretaker being a child.

Which leads us to the obvious question then...

Dean Winchester, Supernatural

Boy, WHAT are you dying about?? It didn’t even come out the other side of him! He looks like he’s standing there with indigestion! He looks mildly affronted. His expression says, “Oh, beans.” Everyone else is surviving WAY worse rebar. I’m pretty sure Dean fully willed himself to death here.

What am I saying?

I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m not saying anything. Have a good day.

#dean winchester #supernatural #cordelia chase #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #chris argent #teen wolf #whoever that pedro pascal character is idc #the last of us

[doublel27]

That’s so valid about Owen. “I’m gonna go annoy my kids now”

And there was something so squishy about the 3 of them being a lil family unit now 🥹

I'm sure whoever you are, dear sweet nonny, you threw this in here knowing I would likely meta on about it.

And I've been thinking about the end scenes nearly all day.

I'm notoriously interested in Owen as a character. He's a facinating character who, like his son, has had his life scarred by loss. Owen's whole raison d'etre is saving his brother. It's why saving that one little girl from drowning sent him into a life focused on saving others. Then he lost his entire firehouse in 9/11, and slowly lost other survivors of 9/11 to cancer and mental health disorders.

Then, he has to bring his son back from the dead and moves him to Texas in an attempt to save his life and restart, all while diagnosed with cancer. We lose Tim Rosewater which sets Owen into deep levels of depression and guilt, because he'll never be able to keep the promise that everyone who starts a shift goes home at the end of it.

Gwyn is in town, and they're still in love and he's working on making it work. They're gonna have a baby and Owen has a redo. He's got a chance to do it RIGHT this time. Because Owen's fatal flaw is always believing if things had been different, if he had been better, if he'd beena moment sooner: maybe he could have fixed things. He had a whole speech to that effect in last night's episode, where he figured if he'd known about 9/11 ahead of time that he could have prevented his whole team from dying.

Then the baby's not his and Gwyn leaves and whatever Owen managed to cobble together of his mental health for Gwyn and teh baby disipates and there's a lot of very classic PTSD/depressive/anxiety things that come up in Owen.

And then we lose Gwyn which is devestating to everyone but Owen soldiers on for TK, but he's...not doing well, at all. He finally gets his ass to therapy and even though we see him make some progress he's still keeping TK at a distance. Mostly because TK's doing well and Owen CANT be Captain Save a Ho for TK in these moments. He does crop up (usually) when TK's struggling, but only when there's something TO DO.

This episode marked a change.

Owen, in talking with O'Brien, who is giving a speech pretty reminicent of Owen's own speeches, about how he made a promise and he didn't keep it because look at this awful thing that happened, and Owen manages to give solid reasoning to be like "Look, he's alive and his son's alive and that's something."

And then it's like the lightbulb goes off in Owen's brain as O'Brien takes off after his great nephew - that Owen is indeed alive, and his son is also alive, and that's something. He may not have saved everyone but he saved TK.

Then, Owen goes and picks up food (which is really one of Carlos and TK's main love langauges, is feeding people - TK does it with takeout because he shouldn't be in the kitchen) and brings it over. But he doesn't just pick up any take out, he picks up the chinese food that TK introduced Gwyn to that they used to eat as a family.

I take this to be significant in multiple ways:

One, the Gwyneth Morgan of it all. Owen picked something that was a family thing and brought it over. Which is a very significant thing to do.

Two, it's one of the few times that food is involved and Owen doesn't mention the healthy/unhealthy nature of the food. Look, I could probably write a whole disertation on why Owen Strand, who has survived 21 1/2 years post 9/11 is obsessed with his health, but nearly every interaction with food, Owen has a coment about it. He doesn't make a single comment about this round of chinese food. I lied, he doesn't mention it in 3.08 either. But that's in the wake of grief, and maybe here Owen's still living in it.

Three, ordering chinese is very clearly TK's comfort meal. Look, a lot of us who are neurospicy joke about TK being neurospicy. And when you are neurospicy, there are certain foods that are..."safe" or an instant "yes" all the time. And we default to them often. I know when I'm struggling when I'm like "It's a comfort food day." (I have a rotation) but it eliminates decision fatigue and the need to emotionally regulate if it's not exactly what you wanted. Chinese food has a connection to Gwyn, and comfort and it comes up a lot when TK's stressed. (Even in 3.03, when Carlos doesn't come home, TK ordered chinese for them)

And then Owen does something he hasn't done...at all...since TK moved out (maybe they did when they moved into Owen's house and I don't know where they had chinese in 3.08) but Owen shows up at their place to share a meal with them.

And it's significant because TK and Carlos have invited him over for many meals between seasons 2 and 3, and Owen never accepts. Or, in the case of 2.11, Owen accepts and then goes off to catch an arsonist instead, which could be his hero complex but could also be a general avoidance of things that are uncomfortable for Owen, like TK growing up and not needing Owen anymore.

For as much as Owen has been an absent father for various parts of TK's life, because of his PTSD and trauma and general *waves hands* Owenness, Owen is a loving dad who would do just about anything for his son. We know this, we've watched him do it. But Carlos is also a competent control freak who Owen trusts implicitly with TK's life on numerous occasions. I do believe there's a big part of Owen's psyche that doesn't know what to do if he's not NEEDED.

But at the end of 4.06, he shows up, with chinese food, which is not needed because TK and Carlos already made a beautiful dinner and are looking very handsome, but he comes in and tells TK that he's proud of him, again. And you know, not trying to blow people up is a very low bar, but you know, TK clears it. And then they stay and have dinner, and Owen inserts himself in his son's life, not because TK needs him, but because Owen WANTS to be there, and that's such a drastic change for these two.

I love that Carlos and TK bring him in. Look, we could punish Owen for his mistakes and transgressions, but that's never been who TK is and this is his last living biological parent (Enzo forever) and TK loves him. And Carlos loves TK and respects Owen and wants them to have a good relationship.

And I cannot wait for Owen to "do what he does best" (owen's words) and be a pain in their asses about this wedding.

#911 lone star spoilers #owen strand #owen strand meta #tk strand #the strands #911 lone star #911 lone star 4.06 #911 lone star meta #doublel27 talks #anon ask #anon reply

[eldritcmor]

CRASH

Storm calls to be picked up and conversations are had taglist:@skylordgrey

The high shrill sound of Moose's ringtone filled the room. It nearly midnight. Someone was calling him. It was nearly Midnight and someone was calling him. Moose blindly reached for his phone.

"Captain Wilson speaking." He groaned.

"Your Last name is Wilson?"

Moose sat bolt right up. "Storm! It's nearly Midnight, kid. Did something happen?"

They chuckled. It sounded nervous. “No, nothing happened. Though you will probably need to come pick me up.”

Moose pushed the blankets down and grabbed his boots. “Come pick you up? Storm, where exactly are you?”

They hummed as they seemed to think about their answer. “Uh, about two three miles from base? I was following the train tracks to clear my head and maybe lost track of time.”

Moose sighed. “Kid it is literally,” He glanced at the little clock in his room, “Twelve o’ two. Storm it is literally just after Midnight! How long have you been out there?”

A slight hum and shift of fabric against the phone speaker. “I don’t know. My last Clear memory is from around Eight or nine. Everything after that gets a little floaty and Fuzzy.”

Moose pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you telling me, you had a dissociative episode and Don't know where you are?”

The sound of snapping fingers met his ears. “Yeah! I think that’s what happened.”

Moose breathed deep. “Okay, okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to start walking towards base and I’m going to meet you halfway. Then we are going to have a talk. Am I clear, Corporal?”

A moment and then they spoke. “Sir. Yes, Sir.”

Moose hung up and finished pulling his boots on before swiping his keys off the bedside table.

—

The parking lot was fucking cold. Moose shivered as he tugged open his truck and climbed into the cab.

“Fuck! Kid ya picked a good day to do this shit.” He turned the key in the ignition and the truck roared to life under him. He gunned it out of the little parking lot and right for the nearby rail yard. It was an end of line stop, so Storm would have had only one direction to walk in.

Moose muttered and cursed as he turned down the rail yards service road. An old cracked up road that was more potholes than actual asphalt. He drove slow and careful til he saw a distant figure walking through the mist. Fuck, if that ain't storm, he’s gonna bite his damn tongue. He pulled to a stop and rolled down the window, sticking his head out.

“STORM!” He hollered. He watched the figures head snap up before they began to jog towards him. He waited for them to get to the truck before popping the passenger door open. He got a good look at them as they scrambled into the passenger seat and buckled up. They looked tired. They didn’t meet his eyes as they settled into the seat. He took a deep breath.

“Storm.” They sluggishly raised their head to look at him. He took a moment to gather his thoughts.“Do you want to talk about it?”

Storm snorted. “Can we just go back to base, sir?” They sound just absolutely done with the day.

—

The drive back to base was quiet and warm. You were curled in the passenger seat, soaking up heat like a lazy cat. The radio was playing softly in the background, some country station.

Moose huffed for the umpteenth time as the truck rode over another pot hole.

You quietly hummed as you gathered your thoughts. “You know, I regret it sometimes.”

Moose didn’t look up from the road, “Regret what, kid?”

You leaned your head against the window, ignoring the buzzing in your head. “Leaving the 141.”

Moose hummed, “Why do you regret it?”

You blinked, trying to think. “I guess,” you stop trying to gather words. “I think I miss the action of it all.”

Moose cursed as the truck bumped another pothole. “The action of it all?”

You side eyed moose for a second. “The best of the best in the captain’s eyes, and sure we had support on some things but at the end of the day. It came down to the wire, ya know. At some point it always became a rush to survive and get the job done. And now, well now a days, it doesn’t feel like that anymore. Don’t get me wrong, Captain O’Neil and the rest of safe house six are wonderful and working with Taskforce Dante is helping but. But it doesn’t feel the same. I keep going round to the idea of maybe calling one of them but I know that I very likely burned that bridge when I left.”

Moose hummed as he drove the truck into the little parking lot near the Taskforce barracks. “Why did you leave in the first place? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You took a deep breath. “After the whole being kidnapped, tortured, and buried alive thing on Solomon’s island, I felt like that I was no longer a good fit for 141 operations. I didn’t know if I could handle the work they do with all the fresh trauma. So i spoke it over with Price and decided the best bet was to take a step back. I don’t think I even told anyone I was leaving outside of Price. Didn’t want to deal with all the well wishes when I could barely keep up with them anymore.”

Moose clicked his tongue, “We’ll circle round back to the first part of all that later. But right now, my advice is if you keep feeling like this, maybe reach out to them? Concerning statements aside, it sounds like you were really close and are now missing them.”

You shrugged as you unbuckled your seatbelt and slowly uncurled and stretched. “Maybe. Maybe. Thanks for this, moose. It it means a lot.”

Moose just chuckled as he switched the truck off, “No problem, kid.”

—

Gaz hummed as his phone flashed with an incoming call. He barely glanced at the number before swiping his thumb over the screen to answer the call. "Garrick speaking."

"Uh Hello Kyle." Gaz froze. it had been months since he had heard that voice.

"Avery?" Gaz wanted to ask a millions question. Where've you been? What you've done? Why did you leave?" That last question left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A light nervous laugh, so familiar and yet so damning. "Yeah, yeah it's me gas man." Gaz felt himself choke as a flash of anger curled in his gut. He drew in a sharp breath and decided maybe it'd best if he ripped the the band aid off quickly.

"Why did you leave us, Avery?" Gaz heard you suck in a sharp and quick breathe before releasing it in a sigh. He knew his tone was possibly sharper than he meant but the anger burning the back of his throat didn't care.

"Because I Couldn't handle it. Because after everything that happened on that cursed island, I felt like failure because I couldn't keep up and didn't immediately bounce back. Because I didn't know if I could handle Being the best of the best anymore." Gaz felt the anger rise in his throat before suddenly going out. He huffed a breath as he processed your words.

"You left without a word, Avery. Without a hug, or even so much as a basic explanation of why. We were worried. We've been worried. But it's good to hear your voice again. What have you been doing?" Gaz hummed as he slowly calmed down. Bitter anger shifting to steady calm as you spoke.

"I uh joined with a PMC, to uhm complete my medical training and that offered that I would be less on the front end of fights. Got demoted down to a corporal in their rank system, because Their sergeants have much more requirements. I uh made some friends, maybe you've heard of them? They're a group called Taskforce Dante. The PMC mostly works as support for various Taskforces. My squad uh specializes in evac and emergency medical response. Yes, we are a glorified ambulance crew, you can stop laughing now." Gaz's shoulder shook as he tried to swallow his laughter. To think you went from one of the best infiltration specialists to an ambulance crew member was certainly an interesting change.

The conversation continued after Gaz gained control his laughter. Both of you content to catch each other up. But all too soon, Gaz had to return to his duties.

"Hey, Avery."

"Yeah, Gaz man?"

"You mind if I tell the others you called?"

"I dont mind, Kyle. See ya soon mate."

#call of duty x reader #storm au #Avery storm Scott #Daniel moose Wilson #eld writes #cod mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #141 x reader #task force 141

[demigodofhoolemere]

Things I can't stop thinking about from Steven and Vicki's Tales of the TARDIS episode

- This reunion. Seeing them together again kills me anyway, but when you look at the context of the last time they saw each other, both of them could have easily thought the other might be dead. The last Vicki saw of Steven he was bleeding out and slipping away from consciousness, and to Steven he woke up to learn that they'd left Vicki in a city that was being razed to the ground and its inhabitants slaughtered. There wasn’t a proper goodbye and neither could have known for sure whether the other had survived. These are two people who must have spent decades of their lives just hoping and praying that the other was okay.

They take each other's presence in like it’s a miracle. I don’t know if they intentionally wrote/acted this with that particular context of their last time together in mind, but nevertheless it can very easily be read that way since their reactions lend themselves to it so well.

- ^ In particular, Steven’s voice breaks in a way that absolutely destroys me.

- Is this girlish giggling not the most Vicki thing you’ve ever seen?

- There are certain moments that just really hit as, ‘This is them.’ I mean, look at her. That’s Vicki. It keeps blowing my mind.

- Steven is SO happy to see her again, oh my word. “I’ve got my little sister back!” is gonna live in my mind for the rest of my life. To have that dynamic acknowledged in those words and to see how much they love each other kills me. Look at this unreserved fluff. This means the world to me.

- Hearing that they’ve had wonderfully happy lives is so nice. Vicki could have been dealing with all kinds of turmoil given the time she chose to stay in, and with Steven’s luck he could have had literally anything happen to him, like Big Finish decided to do. I’m so glad they’ve been given full and happy lives onscreen, that Vicki has done so well in such a wildly different time and that Steven’s bad luck curse is finally broken. (The trauma curse is broken at least — it’s too much of a stretch for me to believe that he wouldn’t still have mundane bad luck lol.)

- Someone needs to either sue Peter for these faces or give him an award. There is so much emotion going on here and I can barely handle it. And knowing how much Peter truly loved this show and his time on it, I get the feeling some of this is real for him.

- “Vicki, this might not be his TARDIS. I mean, can you imagine the Doctor wearing something like this?” Well I’m sure as heck imagining it now! Someone PLEASE make fan art of One in Six’s coat.

- Their reverence for the Doctor’s pocket watch. Vicki is so happy and clutches it with joy and Steven stares at it and strokes it for a good minute. 💗

- Love having some skeptical Steven wondering if it could be a trap and warning Vicki to be careful. His older brother mode got reactivated so fast. And, “Don’t be such a spoilsport!” is so delightfully Vicki.

- Space helmet for a cow!!!

- “Well, it had been a busy week.” Lol, more like a busy (or not so busy) 2 years on Mechanus! You’re more than excused!

- I know it was naturally gonna happen because they’re going over The Time Meddler but I love the references to the Monk, and I love that we also get a subtle reference to The Daleks’ Master Plan out of it.

- Another one of those moments that just strikes you. Look at him.

- “He rescued me. I was an orphan and he became my family. I became the granddaughter he’d lost.” 😭

- Vicki’s little, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” dance is so perfectly Vicki. It warms my heart how well-characterized they both are here.

- Anyone else see this and immediately start crying thinking about her putting her hands over her eyes in The Chase? Just me?

- Steven’s face when he agrees with her about wishing more than anything to see the Doctor again. I love his relationship with the Doctor so much, it kills me to see him emotional about it, to see how much he still loves him after all this time. But on top of it, once again I feel like there’s some genuine Peter in here who misses Bill. You can see in a lot of interviews, panels, commentaries and so on that Peter really truly cared about Bill as his friend and is still protective over him as a person and his character. When Steven makes this face in agreement about wishing he could just see the Doctor again, I feel something else very real in it.

- Look at them. Just look at them. No further comment.

- Vicki’s face hearing the Doctor’s laugh is my face.

I still haven’t been able to get through this without crying at his laugh. I don’t really have the words for how magical and touching it is that they included him in that way. It tugs on my heartstrings so hard.

#classic who #tales of the tardis #vicki pallister #steven taylor #spoilers #cannot stop thinking about them #this was such a love letter to the era and these characters #and to me who keeps crying #these two are so important to me

[daydreaming-robot]

My review for murder drones episode seven

SPOILER WARNING

Holy shit they were not kidding when they said so much is gonna be revealed. That is one hell of a lore bomb.

- First thing first, the Absolute Solver said that N was one of the main reasons that it wants them to retain their personalities after the trio was repurposed. Which confirms a long speculation I had. N and J’s personalities stayed the same, while V on the other hand, has her personality altered to a more ruthless state. In the beginning of episode two, V has a more softer and sweet personality back when they were all worker drones.

- The heart is actually Nori, Uzi’s mother. Who apparently survived everything. As shown in episode two the only way to kill a murder done is at the heart, seems like it also works for hosts of the Absolute Solver. By the way, why does Nori don’t want her own daughter to know that she’s alive( it’s already told to her by N either way)

- The cross is actually an USB drive that halts the Solver’s possession. Which it wants to destroy (and did it in the episode)

- When J recognizes the railgun, the visor says “Prior Hazard” pretty much says she remembered her own death

AND NOW THE MAJOR POINTS

- How the core collapsed is insane, as that’s what the Solver wanted. Apparently the humans put Nori in a private facility to prevent the Solver from taking over. And the intern grabbed Nori’s friend, Yeva for help. When the Solver got booted out from Nori’s system it played one last trick. The singularity explosion. Nori cannot control it so Yeva has to cut her hand off, but a major red flag is how the hand fell into the fleshy pit. And the core of Copper 9 went bye bye

- It’s getting more and more obvious that N killed Uzi’s mother, I dread the day it’s finally told. Uzi’s reaction isn’t gonna be good

- The vision(or flashback) N had. It showed all the disassembly drones massacring all humans on Copper 9. But at the end of it, N’s screen flashed purple and said “ Access Denied, Contact Admin” pretty much assuming that N and maybe V are resistant to the Solver’s influence. Thanks to Uzi’s hacking

- THE REVEAL THAT TESSA IS CYN IS INSANE. The Solver fused Cyn’s zombie drone body with TESSA is both insane and terrifying at the same time. Cyn is wearing TESSA’S SKIN AND HAIR, also her drone number is 1001, interesting to note.

- The ending scene, I have no idea how Uzi, ended up in outer space. And the shot of the planet, including the core crater looks like an eyeball looking at Uzi(that’s on me)

This episode left me on the edge of my seat and I’m scared for the season finale

#murder drones #new episode #my thoughts #episode 7 #episode review

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S06E15

So, as I’m sure a lot of people have already figured out, we just watched the intended season finale. CityTV, you better hope I never get to cross that ocean. I mean, every season finale aside from the two where Peter Mitchell was in charge (coincidence?) were run of the mill episodes which could have fit anywhere in the season. Maybe it will be fitting for this season to start and end with viewers wondering what they watched. But I’m getting ahead of myself here and I might be wrong. Let’s focus on 15 which may very well be the best episode of the season for me, probably tied with S06E04.

The spoiled scene with Charlie and Sarah’s mentioned anniversary. Rex totally wants to stay with Jesse after their “celebration”. I’m trying to figure whether Jesse is pretending to be naive or is actually being naive about it. Or if the whole response is the writers being unable to outright say that Charlie and Sarah really spent their anniversary having sex all night.

Speaking of, two years, Charlie Hudson? What are you waiting for, an epiphany to hit you in the head? Oh, wait.

What do you mean, we didn’t save the day? There’s a dead woman? Huh? 

Nice bomb explosion by the way.

“My bosses are gonna hate this but tell me more”. lol Jesse

How did we end up as security detail for the woman who might become prime minister?

Look, I like when there’s a case where they’re toying with supernatural elements. That’s why I loved Castle so much. And Jesse is always eager to believe. Charlie on the other hand looks like he’s got tons to say on the subject. Rex too. Apparently he doesn’t believe in time travel either.

Any so called time traveler should come back to the present with the numbers for the lottery. That would be ample proof for me :P

Can I say how much I like the camera work on this one? Good directing by John Vatcher.

Rex is getting so many pats in this episode. Deserved.

This campaign manager is on par with the Veep campaign managers. And by that I mean he’s ruthless and self-centered and I want to punch him.

That food now possibly has dog hair in it.

I come from a country where it’s pretty normal to put a musical montage right in the middle of an episode (even a dance number), so I’m not going to say anything about the needless song.

Thunk! There goes Charlie. Again. I’ll spare y’all the concussion speech. Besides, time moves in mysterious ways in this show, maybe it’s already been six months since episode 11.

Seriously, why do you tell Rex to chase a lead if you can’t survive being ten feet away from him?

I can’t remember the last time any of my shows put a bomb vest on one of the main characters. The latest that I remember was FBI but it was on a minor character. That had been a great episode too.

I haven’t yet decided whether that bomb vest looks too amateurish. To be fair, given who the culprit was, it shouldn’t look professional.

Sarah finding Charlie as he has a bomb vest on is like, the best thing that has happened lately on this show. Her look. His look as he realizes that he’s got his entire family now in this (and the mantra of no, no, no that must be playing in his head, I’m filling the blanks, don’t mind me). The slight zooming in of the camera in both of their shots, denoting the direness of the situation.

I was almost waiting for Charlie to say “this isn’t as enjoyable as it was last night” as Sarah was touching him while she’s checking the bomb vest. It writes itself, come on.

In my last review post I wrote that I was hoping the earphones would serve for Charlie to call Sarah and tell her goodbye or something like that. This certainly exceeded my expectations.

We’re a bit late for love confessions under duress but when Charlie was asked about whether Sarah was his wife and he replied “Not yet”, that was a nice moment. At least we know where his head is at.

Their silent communication. They’re so in sync.

Elsewhere, Joe and Jesse are quietly trying to figure out a way to save innocent people and somehow not get their friend blown up.

Superintendent Joe Donovan making airplane noises. I laughed so much.

They are holding hands as they’re walking to their doom! Oh, by the way, interesting music choice. I wonder if it’s score created for the show or non-original music. I’ve certainly not heard it before on the show.

Goodbye kiss! I love it here. And look at the shot of Charlie and Rex leaving as Sarah is staying behind.

Me: no way it’s the convict. Five minutes later: it’s the fucking convict!!! Ten minutes later: it’s not the convict???

Ha, Charlie using the mute button which is pretty convenient but almost no one uses on calls. 

Okay, they fooled me with the bomber. But the takedown went pretty much as I expected. Nice communication with Rex through hand signals, again. Although the detonator flying off the lady’s hand… anything could have happened.

Rex’s influence to the system will be more K9s lol. They may also have ensured unlimited funding for the SJPD.

Can the time traveling guy tell us if Charlie is going to propose anytime soon? Or is the “not yet” considered a non-proposal proposal?

This is the first time I’m hearing about the so called Alice in wonderland syndrome.

“Everybody needs a Rex”. Ah, yes. Our catchphrase.

Charlie, put the phone down. When is that man clocking out? Who’s going to make sure Rex is getting adequate rest? I need to talk to his superior. Joe!

Well, I kept saying that I wanted Charlie and Sarah to be in danger again together since they hadn’t after they had become a couple, and I got my wish, thank you, show. We could have had an aftermath scene with them but I’m not going to complain about it in an otherwise good episode.

Promo: I’m beyond frustrated that they keep shuffling the episodes and they wouldn’t even give it a rest when they got the season finale or the 100th episode on their hands. Today’s (yesterday’s) episode would have been a better 100th episode than The Rookie’s for sure (which is embarrassing for The Rookie). But instead we get to watch it as episode 99 and have a run of the mill case for the 100th, which, unless it ends up in a huge celebration scene, is going to fall flat. We basically end off exactly as we started, expect I now know this is 100% CityTV’s fault.

Speaking of, is CityTV even going to acknowledge that it’s the 100th episode? Is anyone? I’m obviously not expecting the magnitude of promotion ABC gave The Rookie or 911 this season (and that was a lot) but something that shows they’re not completely neglecting Hudson and Rex. It doesn’t seem like we’re getting renewal news anytime soon, so I’d settle for them celebrating the episodes they already filmed. There are quite a few production companies involved too, this does not only fall on CityTV. If Shaftesbury wants to celebrate this milestone, I won’t say no.

#hudson and rex

[the-conversation-pod]

Winter 2024 Teaser

And we're back!

We have been recording so much for you all this season! We completed the first year of the show, and what a year it has been!

We've made a lot of friends through this show, and even picked up some help from @ginnymoonbeam and @lurkingshan who got to produce their own episode!

To complete the year, we are opening our longest season by discussing the big shows from the Fall, including Only Friends, I Feel You Linger in the Air, and What Did You Eat Yesterday? 2, before wrapping up the year with a packed Grab Bag episode.

As is our tradition, we will then have our Five-Part Very Important Internet BL Awards, covering our awards for Acting, Ships, Production, Best in Class, and Special Class Awards.

We'll then close out the season with our Lagniappe episode as always and hear from some of the listeners.

Enjoy teaser for the season.

The Conversation Transcripts!

Thanks to the continued efforts of @ginnymoonbeam as transcriber, and @lurkingshan as an editor and proofreader, we are able to bring you transcripts of the episodes.

We will endeavor to make the transcripts available when the episodes launch, and it is our goal to make them available for past episodes (Coming Soon thanks to @wen-kexing-apologist). When transcripts are available, we will attach them to the episode post (like this one) and put the transcript behind a Read More cut to cut down on scrolling.

Please send our volunteers your thanks!

[The teaser opens with the pod team chatting in a bar together.]

NiNi

Okay guys, so we are alive on the site of our annual–hopefully it's annual–podcast team staff meeting.

Ginny

Ohh! 

[Shan laughs]

Nini

And we just gonna give us, like, a little five-minute live about, like, what's—what's occurring? What's going on with the peeps? So, everybody say “hi.” Ben, say “Hi.”

Ben

“Whaddup?”

NiNi

Shan, say “hi.” 

Shan

“Heyo.”

Nini

Ginny say “hi.” 

Ginny

“Heyo!”

NiNi

And here's NiNi! So…

[Cut back to the normal recording booth.]

Ben

And we're back. Welcome to year two of The Conversation…

Ohh, let me try it again. [Strums fingers on desk. NiNi laughs]

I got this.

NiNi

Do you? Do you?

Ben

Yeah, I got this.

NiNi

Okay.

Ben

And we're back. Welcome to year two of The Conversation! Hello, NiNi.

NiNi

Oh my God, we've been doing this for a fucking year. How did we survive the last year? We did? I don't know how? But we did.

Ben

We survived it through sheer gumption and the Type-A planning of all of your lists that keep us organized between seasons.

NiNi

[laughs] I do be doing a lot.

Ben

This show is a BL podcast featuring two goofy-ass Millennials from the Caribbean who watch way too much BL.

NiNi

I mean, that's a good description.

Ben

NiNi, how would you describe me to the viewers?

NiNi

How would I describe Ben to the viewers?

Ben is… an intellectual. Ben is the kind of man who enjoys French film, I think.

Ben

I do. I actually watched one, like, two weeks ago.

NiNi

You see, I knew it. I knew it. Ben’s always getting me together, and that's the best part of our friendship. Ben is gathering me gently at all times—and I need to be gathered—sometimes, should be told, because I just be going off in too many different directions. 

So, a whole year with you. I have had a fabulous time so far, sir. And here's to many more.

How would you describe me?

Ben

You are a Thai BL girlie set upon by my goddamn queer cinephile sensibilities, who continues to put up with them.

[both laugh]

NiNi

I’m sorry [laughs]—I like other things!

Ben

I'm sorry. The Philippines is out of commission.

NiNi

[laughs] Rude. Accurate, but rude.

Ben

You're somebody with a really strong background in theater and dramatic storytelling who really appreciates the heightened drama aspects of the way Thailand approaches BL. The more telenovela BL becomes, or the more like big-romance-dramatic BL becomes—particularly in Thailand—the more fun you seem to have. 

And over the course of the last year when we've been unpacking these shows, we've been talking about where these shows really land emotionally for NiNi, who's into this for a lot of the fun and some of the camp and the way the romance plays out. And how I end up mostly focused on the queer truth that I can get out of these stories, and how strongly they resonate, and also how well put together these things are. 

We are the podcast for BL viewers who care about BL being genuinely good and not just fun.

[cuts back to the bar conversation]

NiNi

We are just doing like a little bit about—let's, let's pick a topic that's not gonna, like, piss off anybody too much.

Ben 

No! Let's start where we were—

[Shan laughs]

Ginny

You turned it on right when we were pissing people off!

[Shan laughs]

Ben

I am six drinks in. We're going in. Only Friends sucks— 

[NiNi laughs]

—and it made us like First and Khaotung less.

NiNi

Oh no…

Shan

Listen, it's the truth. 

Ben

Like! 

Shan

They were not the moment in this show.

Ben

Going into this show, Ginny and I were very quietly FK girlies.

[Shan and Ginny laugh]

Shan

Not that quietly.

Ben

You were not in our DMs!

[Everyone laughs]

Shan

I could feel the energy coming from your DMs!

[cuts back to the recording booth]

NiNi

It's been an interesting year for us. There have been highs, there have been lows, there have been arguments—very polite ones. There have been agreements. There's been a lot happening in the last year in the BL space and we're gonna talk about it really all through the winter season.

Season 5. Five seasons of this.

So we're going to talk about the things that we watched in the fall. We are going to talk about 2023 as a whole and what we got out of it. And it's winter, so you know what that means? We're going to give out some VIIB Awards.

Ben

I'm very excited for the VIIB Awards. It is the most contentious I think I have felt with you since we started doing all of this. Normally, I'm just excited to talk with you about things. I have never felt more antagonistic!

NiNi

Ben put on his eye black and he said, “What we not ‘bout to do!” 

[Ben laughs]

“These vibes you be feeling, that's all well and good. This is not the Vibes Awards, okauy? This is the VIIB Awards.” [NiNi laughs]

Ben

These are the Very Important Internet BL Awards.

NiNi

He's like, “You're gonna have to come with actual arguments.”

Ben

We will! We say these things are better than the rest? You better be specific, because there is a wide field of contenders!

NiNi

A very wide field, and I think that's part of the story of this year as well. For all the ups and downs, it has been a big year, I think, for BL. I don't know if you feel the same way.

Ben

I do. I mean, that's the problem for this year that we'll get into as we talk about this. This year has had some of my favorite good productions that the genre has ever produced, and that has made it really difficult for the things that are not.

We are not lacking for choice in the good.

[cuts back to the bar conversation]

Ben

And this show made me hate them.

Ginny

To be, to be clear: I still, like, this show did not make me hate either of them individually. Like, Khaotung did some phenomenal performances. First matched them. Maybe you disagree, but I did not feel that way about it. Yeah.

NiNi

[waves at Ginny to continue] All right! We’re getting it! 

Ginny

But I—

NiNi

It's going to be quiet, but I'll get it.

Ginny

—something about the way it was set up, I just did not. I came out of it feeling less hype about them as a pair.

Shan

Mhmm. I was never really a FirstKhao girlie. Like, I'm not into the pairs in general. You all know that I like ‘em to mix and match. But, I'm just like—

NiNi/Ben

Yeah, that's better.

Shan

—I just feel like they're both… They've both been better with other people, especially First.

[cuts back to the recording booth]

NiNi

We've got a packed season for you. Ten! Count ‘em: ten! It's our longest season ever. Ten fabulous episodes.

Ben

[laughs] Wait. What the fuck, really?

NiNi

Yes. 

Ben

Okay. 

[NiNi laughs]

So, if you want to hear people be kind of sassy and way too serious, and be more than a little bit drunk about BL—

[NiNi laughs]

—for about 15 hours over the next, like six weeks, we are your show!

NiNi

This is the Brown Liquor Podcast. [laughs]

[cuts back to the bar conversation]

NiNi

All right, I think we're gonna see if we get, what we get out of that. I don't know how much we're gonna get out of that. We will see. We had to try. [NiNi laughs as the audio trails off]

#lgbtq #podcast #bl series #thai bl #winter series #season 5 #japanese bl #only friends the series #i feel you linger in the air #what did you eat yesterday? #kinou nani tabeta #ben and nini's conversations #the conversation #on art