#I’m just tired and sad and lonely what else is new

[whorenerdking]

boy oh boy do I love random anxiety attacks that hit me full force at 4:30 in the god damn morning

#telling me all about how I’m not good enough for anyone #and that I’m just a disappointment #that I’m stupid and ugly and that anyone would take just one look at me and fuck off because I’m not worth it #playing my trigger word over and over and over and over and over in my head until I can’t hear anything but that word #making me wonder why I never threw away those razors even though I told everyone I did #fuck #ignore me I’ll be fine in a few hours #I’m just tired and sad and lonely what else is new #not that it fucking matters anyway #tired sad lonely and absolutely terrified #of what? #well #🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 #HMMM

[zwhoreo]

Why be sad when you can be horny instead? Luffy cheering you up by eating you out #TeamSmut

I’M POSTING AGAIN!! now with my THIRD story about luffy eating you out on the deck of the ship

cheering you up - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: while you’re lethargic and sad from being on sea for so long, luffy offers oral sex to cheer you up one night

contains: oral (f receiving)

words: 1.9k

_______________________________

You’re sad, not by any particular event but just by the way monotony permeates. The sea is large. It takes a long time to sail between islands, exciting adventures that take a few days are framed by weeks and weeks at sea with nothing other than your friends, your boyfriend, yourself. That last part doesn’t sound so bad, right? Your friends, your boyfriend.

Luffy rests his chin on your shoulder and begs for attention. He’s sprawled all limp and tangled and he’s been whining for the last hour about how bored he is, how much he wants to go exploring and do something fun and even this fancy ship gets boring after awhile, he doesn’t want to look at the fish or play on the deck anymore. You love him but he’s just been so bratty recently, uninterested in anything. You aren’t sure how to entertain him and he just always, always wants to be with you and it’s getting exhausting, you’re so, so tired. So you rest in bed and pet his hair as he complains about wanting to go on adventure and be somewhere else.

Everyone else is irritable and tired, especially because of how hot it’s been recently and nobody likes to rot in the sun in the middle of the ocean. You know what happens with your best friends, where you see them so much that there isn’t much new to talk about? So you’re mostly quiet when you’re sketching with Nami, or reading with Robin, or fishing with Usopp. Or napping with Luffy.

It’s late in the evening but you’re taking a nap anyways, you’re feeling sort of depressed and lethargic and it’s all catching up to you at around 6 PM. You ask for Luffy to come cuddle you even though this is his time to beg Sanji for more food after dinner, the only time of the day he’s really been at his full energy. But he won’t turn you down so he squeezes your hand and pulls you into bed with him.

You lay down. You get under the blankets and take Luffy and tuck him against your chest like a stuffed animal. You can move him around however you want, he won’t mind. He huffs contentedly and quickly goes to sleep with his head between your breasts, clutching you around the waist, snoring loudly.

And even though your eyes hurt and your body’s sore and all you want is to let the rest of the evening slip by in dreams you can’t somehow. You just stay awake with this sweaty boy in your arms, squeezed too tight, and he isn’t a quiet sleeper even when you try to still him so he just squirms and murmurs against you and there’s nothing you can do.

You turn your attention to caring for him, just trying for some sort of comfort. You kiss his greasy hair and whisper little compliments, you massage his back, he loves your touch so much, smiling against you in his dreams. This makes you happy but you still feel sick in your heart, uncomfortable and tired and lonely. The room suddenly feels too hot, oppressive, you need to leave and go get some fresh air.

So, because you don’t want to wake him, you eventually ease a pillow into Luffy’s arms in the absence of your embrace. You slip out of bed, you need fresh air.

There’s a spot you’ve found, a support platform halfway up the tallest mast. You go here when you want to be alone. You’re rocked and the world tilts as the waves crash beneath you, climbing higher, higher. Your feet are bare against the rope ladder, thick knots digging into the soles of your feet. But now on this platform you can breathe. You can see every single star and galaxy from here, black purple blue, a glimmering ballroom of constellations that mirror the wine-dark sea. You are the world’s meridian.

Your body turns off, mind drifting away because you’ve always loved outer space. If you were floating a million light years away then everything would just disappear which sounds nice right now. You close your eyes. You are the universe.

But your body is shaken by the sudden rocking of the mast, you have to scurry to keep from falling as the wood creaks. The loud snap of elastic, a body slams next to you with a clumsy bounce and there he sits, legs spread, looking at you with huge, curious eyes.

“Hey Luffy,” you move close to him. You don’t want to be in the stars if you can’t take him with you.

“Whatcha doin’?” He's quiet, wistful. He looks a little hurt to have been left alone, he doesn’t understand.

“Just needed some air. It’s ok, you can stay,” you say even though he would’ve stayed anyway.

He takes your hand, tracing your fingers, off in his own little world. You feel sad and lonely again. This is your boyfriend, why can’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand, really, he’ll just be there for you. But don’t make him worry, don’t make him upset. But no, tell him, you have to talk to him or you’ll cry right now. Right now.

“I’ve been sad,” you whisper to the ocean below.

“Hm?” Luffy’s arms wrap around you slowly. He presses his cheek to yours, searching your face, so confused. “How come?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Sometimes I just get kinda depressed being on this ship for so long between islands, you know? Especially when everyone else is bored and tired, and when the weather’s bad. And we’re low on food, I’m sick of fish. I’m just getting frustrated all the time and I hate it.” Once you start to let it out you can’t stop. You wipe your face with your hands, sniffing.

He listens, not speaking, not moving except for those hands rubbing yours. And when you’re done he puts his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah, me too. I get what ya mean.” But soon his face is against yours again, so tender now. “Can I help make you feel better, though?”

You smile. You’re so glad you told him, he’s so sweet and good to you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Hey, this’ll make ya happier! Nami told me we’re close to an island, the tide’s changing or somethin’!”

“Really? How long?” He’s right, you do feel happier.

“Mm, I dunno that part.” His chin’s back on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shoulda asked.”

“That’s ok.” You sigh, but you’re still smiling. “It’s enough to know we’re close.”

“Yeah, but you’re still not feelin’ well. An island in the future is no good if you’re feeling bad tonight, huh?”

“My body hurts… I’ve been sitting and resting too much, I think.” It’s true, your legs are sore and heavy. Bones have turned to stone in their hibernation.

“Yeah? Let’s take care of that.” His hands go to you, rubbing your thighs beneath the silk of your night dress, your waist, your shoulders. “Mm, hey, you wanna play? Would that make you happier and make yer body not hurt so much?” He’s murmuring into your ear, smiling with his teeth.

“What kinda play?”

“Sex? You wanna have sex? It’s been awhile.” Luffy licks his lips, mind racing. “I could… eat ya? Y’know, that thing we do sometimes? Where I-”

“Please,” you say so quickly. Maybe this is therapy you crave. Release all this time before you start anew, release it for him to devour.

He laughs loudly, sitting back against the mast. “Heh, ok, lie down and lemme hold you. I got you, love.” His eyes twinkle.

You face him, you get on your back on the wood, head turned away toward the endless stretch of night and sea. And Luffy wraps his arms around your thighs, propping your legs up, spread for him, you feel him nuzzle your thigh and huff against you as he returns to this scent he loves.

You both breathe as one in a long, deep rhythm as his nose presses against you there, right there. Soft moist warmth for Luffy, damp lacy fabric perfect to chew and taste. Teeth gnaw on you through your panties, dull but hungry. You pulse there with every swallow against nothing, nerves lighting you up down to your toes.

“You’re teasing me…” you whine, reminding him of where he is.

“Heh, sorry.” But he’s lost in you, he’s not in any hurry. Until, of course, his tongue catches the arousal that drips out of you and that’s where he needs to go, he decides.

So he casually rips away your panties and smiles at what’s his. You’re at the center of his world and this is how he’ll feast on the meridian.

He quickly bites your clit, not hard but enough to make your whole body twitch. He’s so good at doing what you’ve taught him. And god he does look stunning from here, he pushes his hat back and shiny, jet-black hair tickles your inner thighs. You run your hand through it and tug, curling your body up to stroke his cheek and now you’ve got his attention, you just wanted to see those big, chocolate eyes.

It’s with care that he dips his tongue lower, slowly lapping at you as you get wetter for him, he’s getting loud now as he usually does and the vibrations from his moaning makes you tremble in his arms. And when you tremble, he squeezes you tighter. Warm arms, so different from the sky.

Closer, closer, it’s almost painful it’s so deep and perfect. Your hips move on instinct, riding his tongue, pulling you into this vortex, deep and deeper it comes in waves. The ship rocks and you sway together.

He buzzes against you with a shiver and a sound of joy when your orgasm hits deep. You moan and reach for him immediately and he looks up at you, mouth soaked, he asks, “ya done? Feel better?” smile unbroken.

“Mhm, a lot better.” And he’s in your arms now. You cuddle on that little wooden platform beneath the moon. The heartache and soreness and exhaustion is all new and perfect now. So much better.

“Hey thanks for cheering me up. You felt so good, Lu.” Your voice is a quiet whisper on the wind as you stroke his hair, his muscles twitch around you with the remnants of that powerful joy.

“Heh, tasted good. Glad you’re ok. This mean you’ll come back and sleep with me now?” He’s tilting his head like a little puppy, your scent warm on his breath.

“Yeah. But I wanna watch the stars for a little longer.” You lay against him. You’re sitting, now, interlocked and inseparable. You drip down there from him, so warm against the wood, nerves still on fire. And those stars up there are all suns, you know. They’re all on fire too. You’re amazed at how alight the night is. And this wind from the east, I guess this is what it means to be close to land. Those clouds, maybe that’s what they mean too, shot with colors from no direction, full and aimless.

Luffy is content with you. He’s ok with you watching the sky. All he says is, “that’s alright. Long as I can stay here and hold ya.”

#luffy x reader #one piece #luffy #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #one piece smut #luffy x reader smut #luffy smut #luffy x f!reader

[writella]

Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You

Synopsis: A detailed record of all the special objects Daryl has found for you while hunting, riding, supply gathering, and living in the various places he has in the new world. These objects often lead to sweet moments of kindness, joy, and understanding between the two of you, deepening your connection. Although they are things others might not think much of— they were simply small gestures or trinkets after all— you believed these memories and mementos to be gifts of gold; they would shine in your mind forever onward.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, mutual pining, kisses, lots of love and ♡ sweetness ♡ (true self indulgence at its finest), but there are also descriptions of trauma, abuse, and self-hate. Though other than that, it’s nothing else except Daryl being an endearing friend and future loverboy to you. This travels across the plot and setting of season 6-8, but it might not be a perfect fit. Lastly, even though these can be read anthologically, I did write them in a storyline as if there was an order in which Daryl gives or does these things with the reader as their relationship grows, so some past trinkets might be mentioned in the next story, but it truly isn’t too big of a deal; this is one you can have fun with! ♡

Author’s Note: My dearest reader, this one took much longer than I intended, but I think it’s because I put so much of my silly heart-filled imagination into it— truly one of my favorites to write thus far. I’m just so happy to give it to you. Feel free to read these all at once, one at a time, or pick the ones that best fit who you are. with love, writella . ♡ ⋆ ☽

Trinkets moodboard & visualizer here!

Trinket No. 1: The Ribbon ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⟡.•

A Bow from a Bowman

Daryl was out on a hunt one morning when he found it. It’s like he was compelled to pick it up, he did it without even thinking. It was nothing, honestly: kind of silly really, and flimsy, slightly covered by grass blades— it was dirty and discarded. But there was something about it, something tender… it reminded him of you, even though in some ways still, he hardly knew you at all.

It had been over a month since Daryl came back home to Alexandria; just a month since you entered what was supposed to be your new home. But also a week or so long journey it had been to unexpectedly find you and bring you back.

He remembered it well: you were covered in dirt, tired and hungry, running for your life from the past group you were with. He was going to let you go and mind his business— you looked scared of him anyway when you crashed into him. But most importantly, he had just lost his crossbow, his bike, and maybe even a little bit of his dignity to Dwight who stole them. He didn’t feel like getting tricked again, especially since it takes a lot to trick him; he wasn’t letting that happen again. Especially not the day after. And most especially not for a seemingly young and innocent-looking girl like Dwight’s wife, Sherry or that kid they were with, Tina.

But then, he heard the yelling, the hollering, the men– they wanted you, and none of it was for the right reasons. Very wrong and scary reasons they were indeed, ones he would soon come to understand were things you’d never want to live out or discuss again. He understood that feeling, so he stayed. He hid behind a tree. He decided to help again. Who knows of your innocence, but what was definitely true was that you were a lost and lonely girl in the woods. He knew a thing or two about those unfortunately, those stories ended badly.

Sad enough, the hiding and helping— or attempting to— led him to become a prisoner with you and your ‘group.’ He barely got scraps of food, and every night was just another day of seeing your tears, your face in a permanent state of desolation and misery; staying ever silent even when you were yelled at— even when you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do. You looked scared and small.

It was only when you all reached a hospital, one you burned to the ground just to get away from them, that Daryl saw the fight in you. You didn’t even ask for his help and he tried to save you, but in the end, you saved him. A silent soldier, you were. He returned the favor with the least he could do: he took you home.

And now there you both were. You sat by Rick’s fireplace. No one was home yet, and you had just put Judith down for the night. Daryl found you there on the floor with a book. He quietly sat near you. All you two said was hello.

And this was normal, actually– the being around each other, showing up unannounced, sitting beside each other– talking or not– or you, trying to help him with whatever work he was up to. He tried to fight it at first, but it became a regular thing. It’s what helped Daryl get to know you, and you to him.

You were equally as fierce as the fire you created not long ago, but just as gentle. Just as desiring to smile and create friendships. He knew that now. And he— he was just as rock solid and straightforward as the crossbow he once carried, but just delicate. Just as easily hurt and as quick to hide, yet so deeply desiring of loyalty and acceptance. You know that now too.

It’s still so soon, but you admired him, so deeply. You wanted to learn from him. You thought he was strong, and you wanted to be strong. All that anguish and pain and he came out a fighter, a leader.

Little did you know that is exactly what he thought of you. He went from seeing you cry yourself to sleep every night to becoming the kind and generous friend you were to almost everyone you met. Always offering to care for Judith, or allowing Carl to come to you to talk, or learning about guns and shooting with Rosita. And of course finding a way to go on supply runs, or learn to hunt, or fight walkers with Daryl as much as you could. As always, he pretended not to care that much, but he did. He couldn’t help it. He values his independence, but it was nice that there was someone who wanted to be around him so much. And he admired you for his own reasons as well: You’re someone who fills others up with lightness when such dark things have happened. He felt like that every time you two we’re together. He wanted to learn from you too.

As he sat there, thinking, he wondered if maybe that’s why he thought of you when he saw it. Maybe it was the brightness and softness of it, despite finding it on the ground, despite it being dirty. He cleaned it up, and it still shined, that’s like you but… he was still unsure. Maybe it truly was nothing, maybe it was stupid.

He looked to his side, watching your figure for a moment as he decided what to do. You were on your stomach, laying on the small rug that sat in front of the fire. You were continuing the chapter you were on, paying little attention to him. He only said ‘hey,’ after all. And you did wave back, you asked him how his day was, but all he gave you was a typical response, ‘fine,’ he had said. You thought maybe this visit wasn’t about talking so you left it. And all of this was typical anyway, for Daryl to come by Rick’s, or for you two to sit in peaceful silence, but then you started to see him fidget in his spot in your periphery, like he couldn’t decide how he wanted to sit, hands adjusting his jeans, moving things in his pocket.

“Do you wanna go to the porch?” You thought maybe he was reaching for a smoke. “I can put on the baby monitor…” He just shook his head at the suggestion.

You decide to move to the spot next to him, leaning your back against the wall. “Did something happen today?” Your voice was soft as you tilt your head, trying to reach his eyes.

“No,” he shook his head again, he was facing forward. “It’s just…”

“What?” You asked calmly.

He found it hard to speak, “Just- just brought something.” He reached into his pocket one last time, his hand in a fist as it made its way closer between the two of you until he started to release his fingers from his palm slowly.

It was a ribbon. A pearly light pink one. Just scattered in his hand. “It’s stupid,” he grumbled quietly, trying to shove it back down his pocket, but you stop him.

“Wait,” your hands gently cupping the other side of his and then you pick it up, letting him go. You wrap the ribbon around your finger and you tie it into a bow, examining it in your palm now. “This is for me?” Soft disbelief enchanted your voice. You made sure not to sound too excited or too surprised. You didn’t want to scare him, especially since he replied with:

“It's nothin’.” He was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“It's so nice,” your voice continued in its understated tone despite your smile becoming uncontainable. You couldn’t help the way your lips were curling upward, it was even hurting your cheekbones to try to make your teeth shine through a little less— Daryl Dixon just gave you a gift. And it was a little pink thing at that. Perhaps miracles are real. “It's perfect,” you say, “I can wear it in my hair.”

“It's stupid.” He repeated, brushing you off, but you saw right through him. Daryl doesn’t do anything for no reason at all.

“It's not.” Your words are so kind as your interject, “You know, sometimes it's the smallest things that mean everything. They become our favorite things even.” Your lips pressed together, forming another smile as he meets your gaze, “Like your vest that needs to be patched up.”

“It's fine,” he almost sounded defensive. It made you laugh.

As messed up as it is, it truly was fine. It was his and he loved it; that made it so. And he didn’t only have the vest, he also had his cut-up button-downs, and those ties he laced on the bottom of his jeans— you knew those were probably because the pants available didn’t always fit all the time, but nonetheless— these were all things that made him and his clothing unique from the others. Even in the apocalypse, Daryl was one of the few that maintained a personal style. You couldn’t help but love it. He could, and often always was, the guy covered all in dirt and grim and blood but he still had something about his look that was simply just him.

You missed that. Having those personal touches, and now here Daryl was with this. The simplest thing, but he brought it for you. It was your special piece, your special something. It truly was perfect.

“C’mere,” Daryl gestured, taking the ribbon from your hand and moving your shoulders so your back faced him. He undid the bow and cuffed your hair, he actually almost yanked your head with the way he gathered the ponytail, honestly– he forgets his strength, but you said nothing. Only giggling slightly, but you were mostly quiet. You tried to keep it down, afraid he might stop if he thought you were making fun of him. You wanted to reel at the closeness for as long as you could. You couldn’t believe the fact that he was doing something so domestic— you almost couldn’t breathe. He tried to detangle some pieces with his fingers and then he tilted his head to the side to leave some shorter pieces out at the front. He didn’t know what he was doing and he probably was doing it badly, but he tried his best to be delicate. He’s never touched you like this before. Every time his fingers accidentally brushed against your ear or your neck he relearned just how soft you are. And every feeling of his skin almost made you shiver; like when someone whispers in your ear, it always feels so sensitive, traveling down until you feel it everywhere. His touches felt like that. You always end up feeling his everywhere. He’s entrancing, filling you with hearts and stars.

Finally, he ties the ribbon into a bow right at the top of the ponytail he created. He’s done. He lets go. They shapes and colors fade. Everything is cold again.

But to him, everything looked warm and vibrant. Looking at you was a sight so sweet and so gentle among all this dark wreckage of the world— it was precisely how he saw you: the way the ribbon now laced around your hair looked like an angelic embrace.

You turn to him, “Thank you, Daryl.” Your smile is so sincere, so lovely, there might as well be a halo and hearts invisibly drawn all around you.

A moment passes as you continue to look at each other and your heart jumps. He’s still looking directly at you. There are moments that he looks away and you can’t help it, the bashfulness creeps up on you two, but he’s giving you all his attention; it feels great. You decide to take the chance, you can't help yourself, you hug him, you have to. It has been so long since someone gave you something. So long since someone thought of you so specifically and intimately.

He’s caught off guard, his hands don’t wrap around you until a few seconds later, but when they do, they are sure, and tight, more sure of it than you surprisingly.

You breathe him in, giggling again, “I’m surprised you smell this good.”

“Fuck you.” It makes you laugh just a bit louder, it’s the nicest ‘fuck you,’ you’ve ever heard. Its tone has a hint of sincerity in tandem with humor in just the same way you delivered your line. He shakes his head, “You’re silly.”

He lets you go and you turn away, but it’s only just a little. He watches how the ribbon lays right where he put it again, seeing the side of your face light up with your rosy smile as you sway your head. You’re trying to not make it obvious that you want to feel the wag of the bow and your hair back there so you do it slowly, it just feels so cool and so pretty. You liked it so much. You didn’t even know what it looked like yet, but it already made you feel more like yourself. Like a part of you that had left before this world began— it fit well like a missing piece finally snapping into place. It was your unique touch and he found it for you. He did it for you. Just for you.

For me, you repeated it in your mind, he found it just for me.

Trinket No. 2: The Lesson ō͡≡o˞̶ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Turnpikes, Gunshots, and Dreams

You had asked and asked for weeks with no let up. It made you start getting creative with your pleas: “You know, Daryl, we really should be teaching each other our skills,” you had insisted, sarcasm lining your voice. No one else in the group knew how to ride yet they were doing just fine, but you were incessant, “You never know what kind of situation we’ll be in where we might need it… I could die,” your hands raise as your voice does, “and your bike could be my only escape but I wouldn’t even know how to ride it!”

He would always just stare at you blankly, ignoring you, especially when you got dramatic like this right before you two were leaving. “Get on or stay,” he would say, “go help Rosita or somethin’.”

You’d grit your teeth and get on regardless.

But then one day, one lucky, lucky day for you— it was your earnest approach, and your silly smile, and sun-filled eyes that got the best of him as they looked up to meet his darker ones. “Please,” you said, stretching out the word, it was just as cheesy as your smile. He looked back at you from his front seat as you continued, “I just want to feel capable and- free… I don’t know,” but you did, you meant it and felt it from deep inside you. “To know I have the option I wanted to… I… I didn’t really have those before.”

He was still for a moment and then he nodded, restarting the ignition. You guessed that was another no until you started to ride past the walkers that lined the outer gate. “An hour,” he said, his eyes forward as the trees became a blur to both of you, “then we gotta get work done.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly, you only used to cup his waist or hold his shoulders, but you felt fearless today, head leaning against his back and neck, arms hugging around his torso. He finally said yes.

As time went by, you had gotten comfortable with completing your drills. You learned the controls, how to shift gears, how to waddle and power walk with the bike, operate the clutch, throttle, and lift your feet up, riding on a straight path all by yourself. Turns were still hard though, and the fact that Daryl always insisted you think about the worst-case scenario wasn’t the greatest either. He’d look you dead in the eye, his voice clear and unrestrained from his usual grovels as he said, “If a herd is comin’, or people are shooting, or if there’s something tryin’ to crash into you, you need to think about how you’re going down. Decide on what won’t fuck you up completely, then do it. ” He always got way too close to your face without realizing it in those moments, his finger almost crashing into your nose as he vigorously pointed to get the idea across.

“If something goes down, I’m not arguing,” you say. “You'll be in front.” You meant it, your voice was quiet, you understood.

But really, you didn’t: “If something go down, either of us should be able to do it.” He paused to make sure you got it this time, “That's the point.”

As if you didn’t already sense it, this was the first time you absolutely understood that Daryl was serious when he decided to do anything. Full commitment. Start to finish. You said you wanted to learn, that you wanted to be capable, then that’s exactly what he was going to teach you. You would take it seriously too.

Soon enough, Daryl allowed you to ride out of the gates of Alexandria first instead of switching off after you got a few miles out. You were getting better. So much so that today would be a different day, he explained. Daryl wanted you to ride to the Hilltop. This would be the longest distance you’ve ever rode. A whole 23 miles. But before you guys got there he would steer you in the direction of a turnpike: he wanted to practice speed, and most crucially for you, right and left turning.

His weapons and guns were strapped to his lower body, some on his thigh holster, and a machine gun over his back, all just in case, and his hold on your waist was fixed as you rode. It made you feel like a child and such a little teenager all in one with how excited you would get. Not only were you becoming skilled at riding a whole fucking motorcycle, but you were the one he was holding onto this time and it was the longest amount of time he was holding you at that.

As you reached the turnpike, he guided you around the semi-circular road. Continuing on, you saw a few walkers in the distance. He told you to speed up, there was enough space on the road and there were only four of them, they were far away anyway.

You looked back at your surroundings, other than those four, the road was pretty clear other than some broken down, discarded cars. This accidentally became a lesson on tight turns and swerving too.

Some of your turns were abrupt as you tried to go around the cars, it made you nervous. You knew it was okay not to be perfect, but it was still a little stressful to make mistakes when a master was watching behind you.

“Relax,” he’d tell you, sometimes putting his hands over yours on the handles and helping you out. “You got it.”

You went on and as the walkers approached closer, an idea arose. It was probably irresponsible, but you joked anyway, “Daryl,” you whisper-shouted with fake suspense, getting his attention. “We’re on a mission. Got to take those guys out before they get to Rick!”

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. He leaned in closer as you leaned forward, gaining speed. One arm wrapped around your hips in totality, hand placed firmly there as the other reached for his gun, extending his arm out as you two got closer to the walkers. You two turned to face them as Daryl pulled the trigger: one shot each, straight in the head, “Got ‘em.”

You gasp, your laughter sounding so wild and fun and unrestrained in a way it hasn’t been heard by either of you before. “Is it bad if I say I hope we find another one?!”

“No, that was fun,” he agrees understatedly, trying not to fully give in. You couldn’t even see his face, yet he was trying to hide a smile.

And you were too. It was all too much honestly. You were balancing riding and having Daryl right behind you, holding onto you, trusting you to do something he’s never let anyone else do before; and you just proved you both could probably kill it in a high stakes situation. Well, maybe not, this was very, very low stakes, but still, it made you believe. You decided to ride the high, quite literally as you kept going, shouting back: “Imagine us in battle?”

Oh, wait— your grin fades slightly, you immediately regretted it after you said it. The point of this life was to try to find a way to live, not always fighting to survive. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

The silence makes you feel like an idiot until Daryl speaks up, both hands now on your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, “If we were in battle,” he almost whispers into your ear, “we’d be their worst fuckin’ nightmare.”

You feel your smile practically reaching your ears. “We’re a team,” you say, the humor coming back to your face now, the shine in your teeth reflecting the sun as it always does. “A dream team.”

A dream… Maybe. You definitely were at least, but that is a thought he doesn’t let come to the forefront. He let it go. But it was true… something about you felt unreal to him. The way you wanted to be around him this much, so interested in the things he does; he still didn’t get it, it almost felt unbelievable. He wondered when it was going to stop. When he would wake up. He didn’t want to wake up. The thought grows, he can’t avoid it now: you are a dream. One he didn’t even know he wanted.

Trinket No. 3: Lucky Charms ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Flying Away With You

You gasp excitedly, “The Eiffel Tower!” You hold the bottom up to the light as he still holds the top. “Nice,” you say with bright eyes, “I found the Statue of Liberty in the mom’s jewelry box and a few others that weren’t on her charm bracelet.” You showed him the mother’s sterling silver and he showed you the daughter’s that he found. “I guess they were traveling family… or wanted to be.” You feel a heaviness behind your eyes after you say it.

You loved collecting these charms, but sometimes there was a sadness to it. Like you were collecting other people's tokens, little pieces of their personalities and their stories, keeping it as your own. It almost felt invasive. But it was something that you and Daryl did together. You liked that. Another thing that made you feel close to him… Maybe this was like keeping their memory alive? You may not have known them or know what happened to them, but you were giving something that they loved new life. The charms did make you happy, after all. Especially because it was Daryl that got you into it. But it was also you who got Daryl into it too.

You both can recall the first day it all started: He found it incredulous that you cared more about a little piece of jewelry you saw in the dirt rather than the bigger thing that was right by it: the deer Daryl just shot, the one that you two had been tracking for what felt like hours.

His face twisted up to you as he collected his bolt from the body, “We just caught a deer, and you’re lookin’ at that?”

“We just caught a deer for the first time in months and this was right by them… it’s literally good luck!” You held the gold sun charm to the actual light source it was designed after, “Look at us… Lucky charm, dream team, remember?” Your smile was just so wide after you said it, he let his slight irritation go. It was easy actually, he was always taken aback by that smile. It still wasn’t that long ago when he thought you weren’t the type to do so, like him most of the time. He had only seen you sad, but now, I’m Alexandria, you just glowed. Eyes and an essence as bright as the sun, and that smile, all teeth and just as pearly as the moon… The charm was perfect for you and it needed its match. Maybe a star too. He would find it.

He still remembers where he found those. He came across a silver crescent moon necklace discarded on the floor of a girl’s bedroom. It was simplistic, like one or those expensive necklaces that shouldn’t even be that expensive because of how small it was, but it was a perfect charm size, and it shined, there were no scratches. In the other girl’s room in the house, probably the younger sister, there was a charm bracelet on the desk. It was kind of childish and clunky, like one you could get in those supermarket toy vending machines. He took the first charm he touched and removed the clasp from it for your moon. It was hard to do it with his fingers on something so small and dainty but after a few tries, he managed.

As for the star, he found it on a walker in the woods. It was a little girl, it almost made him feel bad to do it because he knew you’d feel bad about it, but her and what looked like her mom and dad went straight for the two rabbits he just caught, ripping their skin, eating them. He shot them all in the head. The thud of their bodies to the ground only seconds apart. Oh well, were his thoughts, their fault for messing with his catch. After that is when he noticed the gold charm bracelet on the kid’s wrist. It was different from the one he saw last time in that other girl’s room, it wasn’t a fake toy, it was more refined. Maybe they were a well-off family.

There was a star was at the center. It’s all he wanted, but he thought you might want to see the others she had too— they were all nature themed, he kind of liked it— so he tried to take the bracelet off but it wasn’t working. The thing fit her wrist perfectly and the bracelet clasp was stuck so, in typical Daryl fashion… he just chopped the girl's hand off.

Kind of gross, and he would definitely have to keep the red off of everything now, but the star charm was gold, it would match the sun charm and the moon would stand out at the center, he assumed. He thought it could look nice… and beggars can’t be choosers in the apocalypse anyway. After he took the bracelet he discarded of the hand, tossing it to the ground like it was nothing. (He’d leave that part out if you asked for the story later). Now that he had the bracelet, you would also have a gold owl, a bunny, a bird, and if it couldn’t get any better, there was a deer charm too. That’s what was most important about the account anyway.

That night, Daryl crawled into your bedroom from the window while you were asleep. He placed the star and moon on top of your journal that was on your desk, and after that, he left. That was it. He just wanted to surprise you. He’d give you the rest later. You only realized he did it and how he did it when you closed your window that was slightly left open the next day. There were scuff marks on the window sill. They were from his shoes.

After that it became a game; a little side quest. Like how people would count red versus blue cars or shout ‘punch buggy,’ when they are out with their family. An activity that took you out of your boredom, or really, for you in the apocalypse, it was an activity that made you feel oddly sane again, since you always dealt with the insane everyday anyway.

That was what today was about. At least on the down low; at least after you found anything of value for the community; at least to you two. You guys had found what seemed to be a wealthy neighborhood a while ago, when you passed that turnpike. The houses there were so big there, but all you had was his bike at the time, nowhere to put supplies and you were expected at the Hilltop, you couldn’t stay and look around.

It had been a little while after that and you had a plan now, a few Alexandrians backing you up with cars. You two finished your portion of houses to sweep and now you were waiting on the others, sitting in one of the house porches. That’s why you both were showing each other your finds from this place and the others.

You continued to hold the Eiffel Tower charm in your hand, “Maybe we should go to Paris…” Your voice was wistfully, then a quietness lingered in the air, it made you laugh awkwardly, releasing the tension. Your suggestion was one of those silly things you say where you mean it, but you pretend it’s just a joke, knowing it won’t have any outcome. “All of us, I mean,” you do mean it, but at the same time you we’re just talking about him right now. “That would be nice.”

“What would I do in Paris?” He asks it while he fixes his weapons, you’re sitting back, looking at the trees. He thought it was a ridiculous idea. He’s never been anywhere. He hadn’t even been to Virginia or D.C. before this and there’s no way he could go anywhere else now.

“Well I guess we’re never going to know unless we find out… you can eat!” You laugh, “You do like eating.”

He snorts, “Who knows if there’s food left there.”

Pessimist. “Again— we’re never going to know unless we find out.”

“Have fun tryin’ to become a pilot,” his drawl comes out strong on that last word. “Or a plane.”

“I guess that’s the next charm we need to find, an airplane or a captain’s hat. I am a pilot… or I can pretend to be.” There’s that smile again, “I can do anything.”

“Bet you could.” He meant it.

You nod, your next words making you laugh at yourself, “I’m Barbie.”

“Better,” he mutters. You can barely hear it. You don’t know if it was real so you say nothing until—

“We’re going to travel the world some day, Daryl.” You say it so surely, breaking the moment of silence, “We’ll find a way.” As long as we’re together. As long as you want me.

That’s all you wanted, truly. Even if this world really couldn’t take you to Paris, or New York, or anywhere out of Virginia. All you wanted was him. All you wished and hoped for is that he wanted you… but did he? You still weren’t sure.

Trinket No. 4: The Flower and the Photograph 𓇢𓆸

Back Pocket Memory

You two were almost near Alexandria, only a few miles left to drive. “Do you think we can just sit down over there before heading back?”

Daryl continued driving, “Dangerous to leave a good van with supplies just put.”

You pointed to the clearing you were referring to ahead. The trees were sparse in that area, it might have been a meadow, but you didn’t know the difference. There was a little pond near the center. “Can we just drive the car a little bit closer? Just for a few minutes?” You look up at him, your eyes doing that little sunshine thing as it always does, “I just want to sit in the grass,” you say, putting your hand out the window, feeling the wind through your fingers, “the sky feels so nice today.”

He huffs, but does as you ask. “Get out,” he says, gesturing to you to walk over to the area you pointed at. “Pick your spot.” You run over and he follows. You have this wonder about you, it was almost childlike, but not childish, more— sweet, innocent perhaps.

You jump down to the ground and cross your legs on the grass, looking out at the pond. Daryl parks the car a little behind you and comes out to sit on the hood. His legs spread, knees almost to his chest, his elbows lay on there, arms extended.

You look at him, “You’re really not going to sit down?”

“If someone comes up behind us and steals our shit then that’s gonna be your fault.”

Fair. You gesture at him to move over and you sit to his side on top of the car.

As you settle, you close your eyes and you raise your face to the sky. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your closed eyelids. There was a majestic kind of wind that blew in the air today. It made everything look effortless, especially Daryl.

His ever-so disheveled hair had pieces flying on both sides, brushing some parts out of his face, and pushing others in. As always, it was just enough that they didn’t completely cover his eyes. How does that always happen? Thinking about it makes you giggle lightly as you look at him.

“What?” He asks, becoming a little self conscious.

You shake your head, your eyes looking at him kindly, hoping to ease his nerves. “You just look nice.” Your voice was silvery and sweet as you said it.

You get up and skip toward the pond, picking a flower and coming back to him. You sit down and try to put the tiniest white flower behind his ear.

“What’re you doin’?” He tries to swat it away, playfully hitting your other hand that tries to hold him in place and he takes the flower from your other hand. He successfully places it behind your ear instead. “Better,” he says.

As he looks at you, he notices light pieces of your hair frizzing up at the top from the wind, other pieces at the bottom still moving around slightly. It didn’t look bad, to him, your hair looks more like that invisible halo he sees when you’re around, and with that flower in your hair, you look like a true angel or maybe even a fairy with all the greenery surrounding you. You’re just lovely.

You give him a closed smile, your head falling to your knees. “Pretty day,” you sigh contentedly.

Pretty girl.

Handsome man.

Then a thought comes. Your smile turning to a grin.

“What?” He asks sharply. He knows the look you get when you’re up to something at this point.

You grab your backpack from your side, slowly bringing out the polaroid camera you found earlier today.

“No,” he pushes the side of your face, already detesting the idea.

“Daryl,” you whine.

He says it straight this time, “No.”

“But…” your eyes trail his face for a moment before continuing, “you just look… I don’t know. It’s like I said, you just look so- nice.” There’s other words you could use, but you don’t, not yet. “I just think it would be nice to have a nice picture. All we take pictures of is the houses and work. It’s boring and a waste.” You pause, “Daryl… Please?”

He rolls his eyes, grumbling, “You first.”

He’s glad no one was around when these moments happened. Someone might think you had him completely whipped. His brother definitely would think so if he was still around. Daryl was almost embarrassed of himself because of it. But you don’t ask for much. Other than the bike thing, you really didn’t. You trusted him and you were patient. You went along with his plans and you could sit for long car rides and periods of time in quietness if that’s what he wanted. You never pushed him to tell you his story. He only knew a part of yours circumstantially and he didn’t push you for more details after he brought you home, so you did the same. He could feel you wanted to ask more questions, but he also saw you stop yourself, move on, you were creative with your conversation topics: you asked him about what the best thing he hunted was, or what his favorite things were about your friends. You were so gentle with him. Maybe you could get him to do almost anything you wanted without you even knowing, but it was worth it for someone like you.

You look down shyly, “I’m not good at pictures,” you admit.

“You’ll look fine.” He wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. You’re so alike, more than you know.

He tilted your jaw with his thumb. It was too quick for you to melt into it but the feeling lingered, it made you buzz with excitement and it was easy to smile after that. He looked through the viewfinder, seeing you do that pretty sunny smile, matching the yellow bud of the white flower. He clicked the button. Beautiful.

You snatch the camera instantly, “Your turn!” You were too eager but you didn’t care.

You take the flower from your hair and bring it toward him. He sucks his teeth, saying your name as he does so, “No!”

“Yes, Daryl!” You push it over his ear, but not before he pushes you knee, just to do it. He didn’t even know why he was fighting, he knew he was letting you have your way right now. “Look,” you sound like a school teacher, “very nice.”

You even out some of the frizzy parts at the top of his head, the light wind was still blowing through it, it was futile so you left it, he looked great anyway. A perfectly imperfect mess.

He crossed his arms over his knees and looked into your eyes. You held the camera to your face and snapped the shot. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him for a moment longer. If anyone else was here that could see those all to familiar hearts and stars around you and in your eyes, it was so hard to hide. “I’m keeping this,” you said, placing the polaroid delicately in your back pocket. He said nothing, he wasn’t going yo let you know he cared about a dumb picture. “Okay, thank you for indulging me,” you start, taking the flower from his ear, “let’s go home.”

Later that night, past one am, he came through your window again. But this time you saw. Your head was almost covered by the blankets, your eyes slightly open. He didn’t even look in your direction. Maybe he wanted to be quick.

You saw him go into your bookbag. It was hanging on your desk chair. He took the picture out. He wanted it. He wanted your picture. The one that matched yours of him. Maybe this was something. Maybe he did want you.

You closed your eyes quickly when he started to turn around, then watched as quietly as you could as he neared the window, starting to climb out but not before he placed the polaroid in his back pocket, just like you did. Now you both had a piece of each other, forever.

Trinket No. 5: The Music Player and the Wish on an Eyelash ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ♬♪

Never Fade Away

It’s official, in all the ways it possibly could be: Alexandria was truly your home. More time has passed: you live in a house, you have a job, you have family— it’s your friends. In some ways things are better than they have ever been… yet you still think about the night and the dark just as much as you used to. You tried to hide it, you wanted to be grateful and you were. But the things that used to happen to you, and the people that hurt you… they still lingered like ghosts when night came.

In the closed and guarded walls of your community, you hoped night could be a time and place that was peaceful. But thoughts of an attack, thoughts of losing your first real home, it left you apprehensive and paranoid of what could happen in your vulnerable state. And when you close your eyes, sometimes the past visits your dreams. It all felt inescapable.

It makes you so fearful that despite keeping your window’s curtain open, a battery-powered lantern resides practically glued to your nightstand— always on when the sun goes down. You knew it was a waste of a resource, but at least you kept it on low, at least when you woke up in the middle of the night, closer to morning really, you remembered to turn it off— the sun making its way back around soothed your nerves; it was always that initial getting-to-sleep part that made you need it anyway.

And of course, you’ve tried to calm yourself down at night using different methods to see what stuck: You do read— your neighbors were always kind enough to lend whatever books were in their houses— and you did daydream— letting your mind wander to happier, more wondrous places when you wanted to escape— and it did help sometimes, but on other nights, it wasn’t enough.

You miss watching tv in bed. There was something about the buzz of the box, and the voices of humor and romance and relatability that miraculously took you away, and helped you stop thinking, even allowed you to drift to sleep… it was a luxury you didn’t have anymore, and not only did you not have that luxury, you also had an overabundance of dead or deadly issues to worry about. It all haunted you.

You sat with your back against the headboard of the bed. You’ve yet to put on any night clothes. You had already read the next chapter of your book, and you would have read another, and possibly another after that, but tonight you knew it would have just kept you awake as something to do instead of worrying about sleep. You were tired though. That’s why you stopped, but you also weren’t ready for trying to catch sleep that wouldn’t come.

Part of you hoped Daryl would stop by, but he doesn’t always, and he probably won’t tonight. Some nights he’s out until the next day or the next week, who knows how far he went this time, you didn’t go with him and he left too quickly to ask. It had been a few days since you saw him last.

When he was here though, he did start to make it a habit of stopping by to see you, especially when it was time for Alexandrians to settle into their homes for the night. He stopped being so quiet through the window and only dropping things off. He would start coming through the door. It was just a light chat for a couple of minutes at first, then there were the times when he stayed an hour or two. He always sat on your floor, by the window, or by the door. You never understood why until you insisted he sit in your chair by the closet. It was only until a few more visits later you realized the chair's light color becoming just a bit visibly darker. It was soot and hard work and the air, he worked outside all day and usually visited before he called it a night. You made sure not to mention it, you just cleaned it yourself. No need for him to feel embarrassed.

Besides, you didn't mind, anytime he walked through your door or jumped in from your window, that was his chair, at least that’s what you called it in your head. You liked that. You liked that after he brought you home he didn’t move on and let you be. In his defense, you didn’t let him be either, but he could have always distanced himself if he wanted to, told you no, but he didn’t.

You two have gotten so close quite quickly. You both felt it and you didn’t know why, but at the same time, you did. It was something left unspoken, even in your mind, always on the side toward the back of your brain. That part knew you could fall in love with him, but why admit it to yourself if the other person might not feel the same? You were still feeling that way. Despite all the moments you’ve shared thus far. His silent nature was endearing at times, but it could also be a very confusing gripe of yours. There were moments when you knew exactly where his mind was, but there were other times when you simply did not. Especially when it came to you. Daryl always gave you just enough, and maybe tonight, it would be nothing at all.

At least that’s where your thoughts resided until you heard the creak of your door slowly pushing inward.

Daryl’s hand holds the doorknob, meeting your eyes as he steps in further. Your window casting just enough light on his face.

“Hi,” you meant to be clever, ask him if he knew how to knock, but only wistful, subdued surprise is all that came out in your one-word greeting.

“Hey,” he replied, it almost seemed like he was surprised too, you couldn’t tell it from his voice but from the way he cut the word short. “Didn’t know if you were awake.”

You laugh somberly, “You didn’t?”

“Didn’t see you in the window.”

His voice is low, your house is quiet, and people are asleep in the other rooms. You match his tone with your own quietness, “Right,” you say. The window did hit the bed end, not the top. But he knew you were a late sleeper. He even came and sat with you for longer the night before he left because you had told him about it— he knew, he had to, but you didn’t question it.

“Um,” he’s looking down, “Was just gonna leave somethin’.”

He starts to walk to your nightstand but you stop him, your hand reaching out, not touching him, but it’s just enough to pull him to your gaze. “You’re gonna leave without showing me?”

Daryl positions himself toward you and you sit up. Gingerly, he takes something small out of his front pocket, it was covered in one of his bandanas. He looks at it for a moment, almost unsure before placing it on the bed, right in front of your lap.

It was an MP3 player. One of those slim rectangular ones with a digital rectangular screen to match and a big circular button with the controls covering the bottom half. There were some small scratches in the screen corners and some dent marks in the back. The arrow buttons were starting to fade too, but he handed you some headphones out of his back pocket as you continued to examine it, it must have worked.

You look up at him, eyes wide, shining just a bit in the dark just like the little silver miracle that was in your hands. You remembered having one of these, the thought made your lips curl, a light open-mouthed smile forming as the nostalgia set in.

You move closer to the edge of the bed, the sky illuminating you more in your semi-darkened room. You place your hand on the other end of your bed, “Come,” you say as your tap the spot. He’s hesitant before he finally accepts the invitation, sitting down. You would have insisted anyway if he didn’t.

You flip the switch on the side then and the music starts instantly in your right ear where you set one of the earbuds in. You tried to put the left on him, but he shook his hand, “You listen.” You let him be for now, you were too excited to see what the previous owner was into.

The songs are scattered from different decades, but what you notice the most of as you skip through were various 90s and 2000s rock, pop-punk, pop, and the like. There was Nirvana, but also Fiona Apple to Blondie, and even Elvis. It was a little all over the place, really. This definitely had to be a teen’s in the early or late aughts. You thought maybe Carl would like this. There was even some stuff that you were sure had to have come out in 2010, right before the apocalypse began… Another kid who wouldn’t get to spend the rest of their teens, or young adulthood, or adult life like they were supposed to, like you were supposed to.

Having these thoughts while Aerosmith’s Fly Away From Here played was not helping, especially since it made you think of your lost family, and those from your found family that were gone now too, so you decided to skip, but the button seemed to fidget. You tried again, then again, even touching the screen. You accidentally made the shuffle icon come onto the bottom corner.

“Don’t like Aerosmith?” Daryl read it on the screen, but he also recalled the melody, even from just the soft buzz produced by the headphones, the volume was accidentally turned all the way up, you set it down.

You give him a light smile, “Aerosmith’s fine. Just have to be a little more careful with this, I guess.”

You continue to press forward to see what else is there until you shriek, color coming back to your face as you shake your head at the memory emerging as you listen. “Oh my god, my sibling used to love this song when we were younger.” It was Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend that was playing. “We used to put on the radio or look up the music videos on the tv and dance. They loved doing that…” Your voice was soft, both sweet yet desolate, “I knew all the popular songs and all their favorite songs whether I liked it or not.” You giggle, “I can lie this one is fun.”

You knew Daryl would probably scoff, but you lightly place the left earbud near his ear for a few seconds so he can hear what you’re talking about.

“Definitely a chick’s.”

“‘Chick’?” It was funny, and you did laugh, but you still decide to protest, “It’s just one song and…I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty eclectic mix of artists…” You continue to press forward as you ask, “Were there kids? Or- did there used to be?”

“Based on the rooms.” He nods, “Boy and a girl.”

“Hm,” you say curiously, flipping through the songs: the next one that played was by Linkin Park, then Alanis Morisette… you wondered if the kids shared it or shared interests. Suddenly, the player starts Lit’s My Own Worst Enemy. Your eyes are starlit as you gasp, “Oh, this one is so you.”

This time you fully push the headphone into his left ear, turning the volume all the way up as the first verse plays, his face is fixed, “This ain’t me.” There is silence as the music continues and he scorns, “You think I used to just get drunk all the time?”

“Daryl,” your laugh is light, “no.” It was a ridiculous thought and he should know it, but nonetheless, you console him, “Of course not.” Your hand reaches forward onto the bed, nearing where his own resided, but not touching. It saddened you to see Daryl always react like this to small things. He was never judgmental, but he was always so quick to believe others would judge him. “Maybe not that part,” you smile, slightly mischievous, “but- okay, this-” you sing-speak along lightly, remembering to stay quiet, “it’s no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy, cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me- that's you! That's literally you.”

He shakes his head, ‘Whatever,’ the gesture says with his grunt.

“No, you’re actually a little bit self-deprecating, I think. At least internally.” You continue, “Oh, and this part— I didn't mean to call you that- you see?” You say, humor still in your smile, “That part is you.”

Daryl gives you another small grunt indicating ‘no’ as he shakes his head again. “If I say something to someone, then I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if I don’t.”

“Well, you also mean a lot of what you don’t say,” your eyes trail to the side. You knew that didn’t make sense, but it did to you. There was a part of you that was still in denial of your feelings or if there was a possibility he had any for you either. You’d never see him talk or treat anyone in a more than friendly way– or whatever Daryl’s version of friendly was. You wanted to protect yourself by not admitting you adored him, even to yourself, but really, you knew. And there was the way he kept giving you these things, these little moments: the ribbon, the picture, the charms… It made that smaller part of you that believed something was there, glow and warm inside your heart.

You look at him, there was a sorrow placed on both of your faces, but he just looks at his hand that is placed on the bed through his hair, the one that's so close to yours. “You really don’t think there is anything you don’t regret saying?” Another song passes, you didn’t recall it, but then the playlist shifts to something slower, it’s the Beatles. “I just think you keep a lot inside… It’s okay though. But it is just something I notice.”

Normally, a comment like this or something similar to it would sound trite and judgmental, there are a lot of things people don’t talk about now, but you say it with understanding, a little sad because you can’t help it, but your voice is kind, like gentle fingers through his hair, evening it out; a voice that shows you care, you see him and respect him even if you do want more. “It’s okay,” you whisper as Paul McCartney’s voice sings softly, “I’m not half the man I used to be, there’s a shadow hanging over me.” It felt like he was speaking right to Daryl as he continued to look away from you.

It’s moments like this where he wants to say it all. The sad stories from his childhood that he has never been able to tell anyone before. Stories about his brother… the bad, yes, but even some of the good ones. He knows he could talk to Rick if he wanted, or Carol. His group was loyal to him as much as he was to them– he knew that, but they probably wouldn’t care to hear about Merle, it would probably make them angry to be reminded of all the bad things he’s done to them. He wouldn’t blame them. In many ways, and for more reasons then all of them, he will always be angry at his brother too. This is why he didn’t even like to let himself think about the past, but in other ways, it still sucked. It makes him feel alone, like talking about himself or his brother or the past was just a gateway to hurting himself and scaring others, scaring you.

You wipe him away from those thoughts even though you didn’t even hear them, your voice pulling him out of his trance, “Things are harder now, Daryl, but I think you’ve only gotten better.” There is still so much you don’t know, but nonetheless, it’s like you can read his mind.

“This is the only me you know.”

“And even then I don’t think you’re the man I met when you found me… We’re definitely not the same people.” Your hand is just inches from his fingertips now. “We all have things to improve on, even if we think we’ve already grown up. I think that’s a part of growing up actually… just realizing that you never do, or at least not entirely. You’re always going to continue to grow.” Your words linger in the air as the next song starts, it’s Paramore, it’s The Only Exception— something still laced with melancholia but it has a sweet gentleness to it. It's just like you. This is how you were trying to be with your words. “It’s better if you allow it though, or work toward it instead of against it, I think.” You laugh at yourself then, “But I'm far from perfect so I should really stop talking.” Blush creeps onto your cheeks, you’re hopeful the night’s light doesn’t show it too much.

He wishes he could tell you he thinks you’re perfect, or at least something close to it. At least for him. You truly were like an angel. Maybe Radiohead is on this too.

The chorus continues to play, leading to the song’s ending and his jaw tightens. It’s annoying that you were right, your words from before echo to him. They weren’t nonsensical, he did get it: he does mean the things he never says as much as the things he does, but no one will ever get to know. Not that everyone has to, but maybe for you, maybe just a little, maybe you can be the exception. And he can tell that you’re trying to me: who carries around a silly little ribbon anyway? Or who keeps their window open almost every night, even on cold nights? He felt like he was failing you. Maybe these gifts and these small moments weren't enough. Maybe they were just trinkets; meaningless, giving you false hope for a love he couldn’t provide.

You both hear the outro, “Oh, and I’m on my way to believing,” and his heart pangs at that. Maybe he doesn’t have to fail, maybe he can try, at least right now, “It’s just…” he speaks up, his voice clears, “It made me think of you when I saw it.” He was talking about the mp3, “That’s why I brought it back… You’re always humming under your breath. Now you can stop annoying me with the same old thing.”

Your eyes roll, but you aren’t mad, in fact, you can't help that it makes you smile. “Oh, okay, Daryl,” you say through quiet bits of laughter.

“Also thought it could help you sleep… I dunno.”

You nod intently at his words, “Thank you,” and that wistfulness in your voice returns. “That's really kind.”

He nods back. He’s so gruff and straight-faced all the time, but was it bad to say that there were moments when you can't help but see him as adorable? He was always trying not to meet your gaze through his hair, and it was always messy like a kid’s, just like when you took that photograph.

Muse’s Starlight starts playing as you brush some of the hair out of his face. It's an awkward transition, but it's what you get from accidentally pressing shuffle so many times. In the end, though, the words make it seem perfect for the moment. The singer spoke of desire and escape, about missing loved ones and wanting to keep someone special, someone that's like starlight, close by. You understood that. He did too.

You giggle lightly, “Daryl, you- you have something…” You point at your face in reflection of his.

“What?” He wipes his nose.

“No, it's- it’s here,” you say, taking your finger to lightly catch the eyelash that threatened to slip away from his face and onto the bed. “Make a wish,” you whisper. Your face is nothing short of innocence and wonder.

His snorts, “I’m not doin’ that.”

“Daryl,” you eyes widened with apparent prodding and pleading annoyance, but your words still have a sense of amusement to them, “I think we need all the luck we can get.” Your head tilts as you say through your smiling teeth, “I’ll do it with you…?”

“Fine.” He can’t help that your squeal makes his lips curl but he’s trying to hide it.

“You have to really do it.” You turn the music down, it's in the background now. Your usual sun-filled eyes are currently wide like the moon as you look into his, coming closer to his face.

He nods, “Okay.”

“Promise?” You sing.

“Promise.” He meant it, he even closed his eyes before you to prove it.

You closed your eyes too, “Okay, I’m trusting you.” Squeezing them tightly, you whisper, “Think about what you want, and then I'm going to count to three and we blow.”

Instantly, your heart foolishly thinks of Daryl. You know you could be thinking about the safety of your group, the stability of Alexandria, or hoping that the threat everyone feels coming subsides into nothingness, but all your thoughts are just of him. It makes you feel like a silly little girl, waiting for that big romantic confession of love that you dream about, the one that will probably never come.

I wish for you, you think. You can’t help it, you can’t say anything else, this is the only thing that’s true, I just wish to stay by your side, forever.

The song echoes your hopes too, I’ll never let you go if you promise not to fade away.

You agree, never fade away, please.

“Okay,” you say softly aloud, “1… 2… 3…” And then your wish flies into the air. You two stare at each other afterwards, eyes starry like the sky from your window.

You wished for each other.

Trinket No. 6: Scars, Marks, Tattoos, and Internal Wounds ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Things I Only Trust You to Know

It’s another night. Another visit. It wasn’t intentional this time, but your curtains were drawn. They’re almost never drawn, at least not completely. The window was still open though, the night’s breeze ruffled them backwards. Daryl became concerned, so he climbed up, opening the window wider and pushing the curtains to the side to get through.

He saw you crying.

Hearing the thud of his boots stomp lightly to the ground triggered you to turn, body facing the closet as you were curled in your bed. You didn’t want him to see you. “I’m tired tonight, Daryl.” Your voice was low, you tried to keep in neutral. For the most part you were doing well, but it was still obvious you weren’t fine— he saw your face before you covered it.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, his legs hitting by your feet. He didn’t feel like asking if you were okay if you were going to lie and say no. “You can tell me to go if you want,” was all he said, rubbing your arm as he did and then let go. You starting sniffling involuntarily because of the touch. You realized you were holding in a breath, the shaky exhale came out louder than you wished it did. “I’m sorry,” your voice blubbering. You were embarrassed. You hadn’t done this in front of him since before he brought you home.

“Don’t gotta be.”

“I feel stupid,” you say under your breath. You’re still trying to hide your face.

“Stop.” He puts his hand over your body now, on the bed, and he faces you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head slowly, looking at him, “I don’t know how to say. I can’t-”

“Just say it,” he said calmly.

You felt heat rising from your throat, it was like the words were trying to come out, but it felt scary to do so, it made your teeth grind against each other. Your head shakes harder, “I don’t think I can.”

He brings a hand to your face and wipes some of your tears with his thumb, “What would you tell me?”

You would tell him to speak, that it’s okay, you both knew it. The thought makes you sit up in your bed, tears still running down your cheeks, but you were going to try.

“You’re just going to get annoyed,” you wipe some of your tears with your wrist, “think I’m dumb, like a little girl.”

“You’re not dumb,” he spoke over you before you finished.

You pause, you shake your head again. The words are on your tongue but you just feel so bad and so embarrassed to admit it. “Sometimes I just…” your voice hitches and your hands goes to your head, more tears fall, “it’s just one of those days, I guess.”

One of Daryl’s hands goes to your shoulder and your upper back, he pats you until it quickly becomes a soft, swaying motion.

Your voice doesn’t go above the lightest whisper as you try to start again, “Sometimes- I just look at myself and I-” a sob erupts from your throat and tears roll much quicker, “I know you’re going to think I’m stupid, but sometimes I just wonder if anyone could love me.” It doesn’t even feel good to finally admit it, but you continue, “I feel like there’s something wrong with me. Like maybe I’m not enough. Or I’ll never be.”

Daryl’s face heats up. How could you ever feel that way about yourself? How do you not see yourself as anything less than everything he’s seen in you since the day he met you? You’re not stupid. Never. He feels stupid for not seeing this in you. He feels stupid for it being so hard for him to tell you everything wonderful about yourself in the way you deserve.

He thinks for a moment, he wishes he was more poetic, but he wasn’t and there are still certain things he’s not ready to say. So he decides on something else as he calls your name, “You’re telling me you can’t see you’re a tough son of a bitch?” The phrase makes you laugh involuntarily through your tears, he always says it like it’s one word. “One that found a way to burn down a hospital and kill a bunch of dickheads in one go just to stay alive?” He huffs, “Prettiest arsonist I’ve seen.”

You gasped but it made you smile lightly, it was funny. “I’m not an arsonist! And it was only part of the building.”

“Coulda fool me.” He tilts his head, “But you’re also probably one of the best scavengers we got. And you’re a good friend.” His hand travels to your knee, “You’re really good at talkin’ to people… and to me.”

You try to let his words fill you up but there is still doubt. “I don’t feel like pretty and really good are the right words.”

“Then you’re wrong.”

You shake your head.

He doesn’t get it, “Well, what do you see that I’m not?”

Your heart beats ferociously, you don’t move, you’re hesitant, you don’t know if this is right, but there is a part of your that wants to. “Can I show you something?” You asked.

He nods.

It’s scary, but you decide to trust him, showing him the part of yourself you felt most ashamed of. The part of you that you thought was unloveable.

But he sees nothing shameful, nothing bad, he just holds onto it or another part of you, caressing you gently. “You’re perfect,” he says, shrugging as if his words aren’t a big deal, but he knows they are. This is the first time he doesn’t keep a thought like this in his head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He turns his back on you now, and he takes a breath, sighing deeply. You’re confused until he sighs and starts to speak; “When you were with those guys— and I know it ain’t the same, but— I know what it’s like. For people to use you.” He swallows hard, “I don’t like myself all the time neither.”

Your eyes widen. He was taking off his shirt. The first thing you see are tattoos, until your eyes travel to the other side, you see what he meant; the scars. “My dad. He was a drunk and a loser and an asshole.” Daryl's voice hitched, you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, but you had never heard him like this before. “He did it to my brother too, Merle. But then he just left when he was old enough. Didn’t even give a shit that our dad was gonna do it to me,” there was anger in his voice. “He said he didn’t know,” and then he chokes on his words, “but how can I believe that? Thought it’d just skip a generation? He never changed. Neither of ‘em.” You wanted to hold him, but you didn’t know if it was too soon. He was still speaking, “Then when I got old enough, I left too. Some time later I started drifting ‘round with Merle, like that was gonna be any better… Two fucked up kids doing nothin’ with their fucked up lives.” His face turned to the side, you saw his profile, his eyes were red, “That’s what I did before Rick… You all were going to do good things with your life and I was gonna be nothing.”

“Daryl…” you were crestfallen, “I’m so sorry.” You held his arm, stroking it softly. “But you weren’t going to be nothing.”

“Yes, I was.”

“There is no thinking about what could have been. This is how life is. Maybe this was always going to happen,” your voice falters as you say it. “You’re not nothing. You’ve become everything to so many people.”

He turns his face back around and you look at his back again. It was difficult to look at, you won’t lie. Your heart sunk low, like it was being squeezed and brought down to the pit of your stomach to know that someone put him through this. Someone who was supposed to love him. Another tear escaped your eye at of the thought.

“Daryl,” you stutter meekly, “Is it okay if I hold you?”

His nod is so faint you barely see it, but he doesn’t say anything else so you believe it is a yes.

Your fingers ghost over his back until you let the tips of them finally lay on his skin.

His eyes wince and squeeze as he shutters despite your fingers trailing so tenderly. Your palm is now flat on his back as you move downwards and back up again. You kiss near his shoulder, right on the tip of his highest tattoo and then you wrap your arms around him, under his arms over his waist, and he holds your hands there.

You stay there for a long while, you don’t have a recollection of time. The moment feels like forever, although it is sad and you wished you weren’t discussing the things you were to get here, you don’t want it to end. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him.

It’s quiet until he says, “No,” disagreeingly, “You’re not brave just because you go through some shit.”

“But you still are,” you insist. “This happened to you and you chose to be the person you are now despite it. You became someone invincible.” You pressed him against you tighter, “I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Finally he turns around and takes you in his arms, your head now resting over his shoulder as your chests touch, closing the gap. You lay down on the bed and he stays on top of you. One hand plays with your hair and you continue to caress his back.

“I really like your tattoos,” you whisper, almost a giggle in your voice. “They look really good on you.”

He smiles a little. He never takes off his shirt so people barely see all the ones he has. He liked that you liked them. “Thank you,” he says.

“Do you want more? If you could?” You also want to ask why he got the ones he did, but the crying has made you sleepy and him being on top of you is making your mind hazy. “I wish I could,” is all you add.

He looks at you, “Maybe that’s the next thing we find.” He was talking about a tattoo gun, “That’s the kind of junk people don’t need now, we’ll look.”

He plays with your hair again, both your smiles are so innocent and lazy, you two would knock out soon, but it was nice to talk about something that used to be mundane for a moment.

“What if we do it and it turns out bad?”

“We’re not gonna find it tomorrow.”

“Right,” you say, moving on. “You know… I remember I used to be so scared of that stuff— needles and blood. I can imagine wincing just thinking about a needle touching me at the doctor’s… But now, I think that’s a pain I’d actually prefer… Rather than the other things we’ve gone through… If there ever was a choice like that.”

He agrees, “If there was a choice, I’d be covered by now.”

You two laugh at that, letting go of each other. Your bodies are on your sides, parallel to one another as you lay down. You’re on the side that faces the window and Daryl’s back is to it. He sees the moonlight illuminate your face because of it, the glow makes you look enchanting.

He wonders if you would get one— a tattoo, or another one, of this: of the moon; of the night where you showed each other parts of your bodies you wanted to hide, thinking they were flaws; of the night where you accepted each other fully despite it. Where he laughed and felt happy even after he shared something so dark. He almost never laughs or feels happiness in its totality, but with you, he does. It happened right now as he’s looking at you.

You see his face glistening in tandem with the white light that shines on you, it’s darker, but it’s still there. You were wondering the same exact thing.

Your eyes feel heavy now. They slowly flutter shut, but you try to keep them open. You don’t want him to leave. But he sees that your face dozing off, you’re tired, your eyes keep trying to close and close fully. He quietly gets up to go, but you stop him. Holding onto his forearm, sliding down to his hand. “Just stay,” you murmur, “please,” it’s light and dream-like. So he does. He doesn’t want to let go of your hand. He doesn’t want to let go of you.

You both stay at your sides, your intertwined hands at the center. He continues to look at you and you smile softly as your body finally allows your eyes to close shut. You drift swiftly to sleep. And he stays awake for a while longer, fixed on you and your slowing breath until sleep finds him too.

Daryl being right there, and you being right next to him, made everything infinitely better.

Despite it being vague on details, feel free to skip around areas of this one if you are not comfortable with reading about the reader being imprisoned at the Sanctuary.

Trinkets No. 7 & 8: The Second Ribbon and the First Kiss ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ જ⁀➴ -`♥︎´-

Confessions From a Broken Bowman and a Battered Beaut

It had taken a long while for you and Daryl to talk again after you escaped the Sanctuary.

The last time he saw you was through your tears as Negan’s men threw him in a van, your eyes bloodshot, wanting to scream and plead. He felt it was his fault that he didn’t fight harder; he felt that it was his fault that you were in there for so long; felt it was his fault that you were taken there in the first place. He couldn’t save Glenn— a burden he still carried so deeply, even after talking to Maggie— and that led to not being able to save you. He felt like he left you, not knowing you would have been in the same place he was if he didn’t escape before you got there. But what choice did he have? He didn’t know. And he doesn’t even know if it’s a good or bad thing to admit that in a heart beat, he would take another day of torture, of abuse and pain, if it meant he was with you, and you could make it out together. One more day for him would have been worth your days only adding up to one hand if it could. It would have been better than just waiting for you on the other side. Having to hide just so Negan wouldn’t find him and kill him and more of his friends because of it.

And even worse, what if he threatened Daryl with you instead? Especially since you were still there, with him. That’s part of the reason why Daryl wanted to blow up the Sanctuary. It would have just been one side. Just enough to cause the chaos you needed to run away from your captures and back home. You were fast enough, he knows you are, and you must have known all the exits by now. He tried to convince himself of it. Rick told him it was a bad idea, dangerous to do that to the workers, and most importantly to you— it too many what ifs if it didn’t work out— but what else was he supposed to do? He needed you out, and the Saviors to be gone. It felt like the only choice.

But then, Daryl saw your face. You got out, you didn’t need another fire. It must have been their first attack against the Sanctuary that helped.

Your breathing was so heavy when you finally stopped, you were running so fast, there were patches of dirt all over you, sweat dripping from your neck. It must have been fate that he, Tara, Micchone, and Rosita were right there on the other side, ironically trying to go back to the place you just escaped from.

All their guns were pointed in your direction. They heard the gunshots, they heard someone running. They instantly dropped everything when they saw that it was you.

It felt like the world turned in its full rotation in seconds, coming into a halt all in this moment. The woods, the running, the chance encounter— him; it’s like you were brought right back to the start.

He was speechless, stunned in a way he didn’t expect, mouth agape and yours the same. You didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know how to apologize in the way he felt he should, so you both just stood there. Tears started to well in your eyes. All he did in the end was look down.

This exchange of stares happened only in a mere matter of seconds until Rosita brought you in for a hug, cursing leaving even though she knew you didn’t have a choice, being so happy you were back, but for you it felt agonizingly long.

And for Daryl, it all felt endlessly hopeless. The reality that his plan probably could, or most definitely would have killed you sunk in. He was stupid for thinking that it could work. And seeing you in that wife's dress? A black bow tied to the back of your head? It was unbearable. He hates that he found it hard to even look at you.

The two other women welcomed you back, Michonne even looked teary eyed. The sight made some of your own tears fall because of it. She took you by the shoulder and Rosita took your waist, guiding you to the trunk. Tara went back near Daryl, she wanted to ask if their new plan at the Sanctuary was still a go but waited when she noticed Rosita sent a glare Daryl’s way. It honestly did more to Tara than Daryl. He didn’t even bother meeting her face, he was already punching himself for his silence, for his inaction. He just got in the driver’s seat and took off.

After that, you watched him, waiting to see when his eyes would finally meet yours, but he tried to avoid them as much as he could. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were okay when Alexandria fell and you were all in the sewers, and when he entrusted you to take care of Judith as he guided everyone to the Hilltop afterwards.

This treatment was excruciating, but you said nothing. You didn’t feel like yelling at him, you just wanted him. And there was no time between when you came back to right now when you could speak alone anyway if you did want to yell. If you asked why he probably would just shoved you off and you’d get more sad and upset than you already were, or maybe you’d pester, demanding some kind of answer and he'd be the one that might yell… no reason to fight in front of people, especially since there are so many other things to worry about.

But you remember when you finally got to the Hilltop, and how you saw the way he embraced Carol almost right after he saw her. You weren’t upset about that specifically. You admired Carol, even if you didn’t get to know her that well yet. You knew they loved each other, you thought they had a beautiful relationship… It wasn’t that. It was the fact that you fought all the way to get back to your family, to him, and it felt like it was all just so he could act like a stranger again. He didn’t even say hello when he saw you, or ask how you got out, or that he missed you. Maybe he didn’t. That was the real reason you said nothing. The thought broke your heart.

You could at least say that Negan talked to you, and didn’t keep all his feelings inside– whether they were real or not, you were only half sure somtimes– but your time at the Sanctuary, becoming a soon-to-be-wife, it was a hardship only you endured. No one would understand the humor of that sick joke, and it especially wasn’t the time nor would it ever be when everyone hated him and wanted to kill him so desperately.

The next day came by, you all prepared for the Saviors to attack at Hilltop. You were on a break, sitting in the cellar. It was dark, but it helped relieve you from the incessant heat that beamed outside.

Daryl was looking for you. This happened to be the third place he went around. He had just spoke to Rick, apologized for their fight. He felt awful that it took until after Carl passed for them to talk about it, and that his passing made Rick start to believe all the killing might be the only option like Daryl believed before. He still wasn’t sure what he felt now. All he knew is he couldn’t let you two go on like this any longer. It was time to talk to you.

As he opened the cellar door he kept it slightly open, letting the light emanate through.

He sits down next to you, bringing his knees up as he usually does. You don’t bother looking at him. Maybe he would just ask you to do him a favor like last time.

There is silence for a moment. He doesn’t know where to begin. All he decides to say is, “You got Judith here safe, I made sure Rick knew. Thank you.”

“You’re the one who led us here.” Your voice says quietly.

“You helped chop a lot of those walkers down in the swap.”

You sigh, not answering him right away. “This isn’t a competition.”

“I know,” he mutters.

Silence is all that hangs in the air again. With each second that passes it makes your throat swell, bubbling up to your tongue and brain as it usually does until you’re trying to hold back tears.

Daryl was feeling similarly. All his words were caught in his throat too, wanting to be said out loud but he can’t, it’s like someone is squeezing and choking him right there. And he can see your teary eyes, it could almost make his eyes match.

He says your name low and slow, “Do you hate me?”

You’re stunned at the thought. Your words are hushed but vehement, “How could you ever think I’d hate you?”

“I left you-”

“You didn’t know.”

“I could’ve fought harder when they put me in that van, you grabbed onto me and I still let them take me—”

You speak in between his words, “Why are you acting like you had a choice?!”

“—I could’ve went back right after they told me that’s where you were. Not leave you! I coulda done that.”

You shake your head, your voice a sharp whisper, “If you tried either of those things you would have been dead. Everything would be worse and this probably still would have happened.”

“I could’ve done something,” is all he repeats. Quietness fills the space again. You’re never going to agree on this. He’s stuck on what happened and you’re upset about what’s happening.

You breathe in shakily. He’s still finding it hard to look and it hurts, it makes you sad and angry.

Your voice becomes stifled, almost weepingly as you ask, “Daryl… Why can’t you even look at me? Why have you barely talked to me since I came back?”

His voice raises strainingly, “Cause I left you.”

Your voice cries as your head shakes again slowly, “You didn’t leave me, they took me. You left me now.” That makes him turn. You see his eyes, they’re puffed and the whites of his eyes are a faint red, and yours are still watery. “It’s not your fault.”

The backs of your fingertips brush against his cheek, feeling the bristles of his beard and you go down further, continuing to shake your head sadly, moving back to your face to wipe your own tears.

“Did they put you in that cell? Take your stuff?”

“Only the first time I came there. And then the two other times I tried to escape. After that I was sent to sleep with the other girls.” Your voice is quiet, “I don’t think it was the same for me like it was for you.”

“Did he,” he almost can't say it, “Did he hurt you?”

You knew what he meant. All you could do was shake your head slowly, it was a gesture of no.

He nods, his mouth fixed. Some relief is finally released from that, but this doesn’t change anything. They still took you away, they probably put you in a cell, they don’t deserve mercy. He wants to tell you that you all are still going to kill Negan and how he still plans on killing Dwight, but he holds his tongue. This wasn’t what being with you was about right now. His mind races with plans, just thinking of how to get close to them, how to commit the final act, until you speak, reading is mind again.

“I-” you stutter ashamedly, “I think- I know that my time in there has changed me and maybe I see things differently or know more than I used to but… it doesn’t change that I’m with you. I never let that go.” You whimper, “It just hurt when you didn’t say anything to me. Like you were disgusted by me.” You can’t help the string of sobs that come out.

“No,” Daryl holds your face close to his. The bottom of his palm reaching your neck, his fingertips extending over your cheeks, his thumb caressing over the area under and behind your ears. “I fucked up. I was going to try to blow up a part of the Sanctuary… even before I knew you got out… If you got hurt that would have been my fault. That would have been on me. I’d never see you again- Would’ve hated myself.” His voice hitches, it’s rasp so coarse and grating.

You hug him instantly. Your hands go under his arms and one of his goes in your hair, holding your head so tightly as it presses into his shoulder. He cries, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop” You breathe him in, “It’s okay.”

“It aint.”

“It doesn’t matter now.“ You wait a moment, telling him quietly into his neck, “I only want to be with you.”

“And what if it goes bad? What if I hurt you again?”

“We’re going to hurt each other, Daryl. What matters is we try and we stay. That’s it.”

He faces you now. His nose brushes against yours, your foreheads connect, it makes your eyes flutter shut. Your tears are drying the longer he holds you like that and everything feels so warm. Your heart, your brain, your cheeks and his fingertips against them. It makes you feel it again, that fearlessness— you kiss him. Gently touching his jaw, your chin moves upwards, your mouths opens, your lips twist so softly with his, you already can’t breathe, and then you let go.

As he looks at your face, he smiles, realizing he’s seeing the girl he used to know again. His sunshine girl with the stars in her eyes. They’re shining up, still half sad and glossy, but the bright lights are slowly coming back on. His dream is back. She’s real. You’re real. You’re trying, you’re staying, so will he.

He takes your neck and kisses you this time. His tongue slips in, you’re so surprised, you gasp into his mouth. It makes you both smile into the kiss. You come closer and he helps you into his lap, allowing you to lean in. His hands go to your waist and yours to his shoulders. Then one of his hands runs up to your hair and your opposite hand does the same to him. You want to touch each other everywhere now.

Then he feels the ribbon, the black one. It makes him stop.

You’re worried, “What happened?”

He holds the piece of hair that the ribbon is secured to, it’s only a little part, the rest of your hair is down, and he undoes the bow, discarding it to the ground. Your hair falls messily over your ears and down your neck. “You don’t need that anymore.”

Daryl pushes your hips and you sit on the floor again. He’s reaching in his pocket, and you can’t believe it, it’s another one. A dark ruby, maybe a silky burgundy one it was in color— it was another ribbon.

“How long have you had that?”

“Since I found the other one.” He shrugs, “I thought the first one was better.” This one had fraying on one end, unraveling just a bit.

You would have said that you could sew it later, but you didn’t, you said only what mattered: “It’s perfect.”

Daryl doesn’t argue. This is him trying, he takes the win.

He doesn’t know how to put it nicely in your hair, how you do it with the different styles, so he just wraps all of your hair in a ponytail, just like last time, tying it into a bow.

It feels like a gift, not just because he gave it to you and not because it looks like a decoration on top of one, but it is all of it— this moment, the conversation— it all feels like breathing new life into something you worried might be slowly withering and dying. You exhale, it felt so nice to feel him so close, to feel his fingers run through your hair, to feel his breath on your skin.

“Think maybe this suits you better now,” he says, and maybe it always has.

He leans back against the wall and you lay your head and back in the crux of his knees and chest. You look up into his eyes and he does the same right down at you. There was more work to be done, more fighting to endure, but for now, you lay there as if you were the only two in the world. In a moment of sweet understanding; in a moment of love. You could finally admit it to yourself now, you were absolutely and monumentally in love.

… I could go on forever ♡ perhaps this can be a mini-series where I post one when I think of another and you can feel free to request a trinket you think Daryl would give the reader and I’ll post it and respond or even write a blurb for it and add it to the list if it’s a good fit! Thank you for reading. ⋆｡°✩

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fluff #twd fanfiction #twd fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #writella’s sfw section

[sciderman]

ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!

Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.

Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.

I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable” for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.

I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3

hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...

i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)

i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.

it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...

#sci speaks #i want to be loved for me. #not for who i can pretend to be. #not for what i can “pull off”. #i want sad little lazy tired me to be treasured too. for being weak. for being lazy. for just wanting to sit around in my undies and cry. #tired of having to be a hero . for having to be an example . for having to put on a good show #ohhgh i'm so tired... #i love sad little lazy me. i love when i love sad little lazy me. sad little lazy me deserves to be loved #just as much as restless gender icon me #sighs. i wish you guys really Knew me. not just all of this text on the internet.

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

Day 5

Pairing: Ren Hana x reader

Prompt: Meloncholy

Description: How did you get caught in such a surreal situation? You can't help but feel terrible, so much so that you end up crying. But, your new best friend Ren is here to help!

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: Past kidnapping, imprisonment, non con touching (nonsexual), mentions of hurting reader, collars, ask to tag

Word Count: 872

Notes: Ren is my FAV from bytd I would actually let his do anything to me. Even if I am like, way taller than him. He can be my short king any day sdfjldfkj have I mentioned all these have been written in a row? Thank u queue its 10:30 rn After I get "caught up" these might be longer but I aint forcing nothing

You couldn’t help but settle heavy in the bed given to you, dread and fear weighing you down to the nice duvet under you. You can’t help but curl your fingers into it as you stare out the window, to the winter storm raging outside. You reach up to touch the collar around your neck your body shivers at the memory of electricity running though you.

How did you get into this mess? All you had wanted was a night out but… Ren and that other man… the drinks… being chased and… Ending up here.

You had really wanted to believe he helped you. He was nothing but sweet and polite, so you wanted to return that generosity but… the anklet. The collar you still wore. That he tested on you. This could only end badly for you, couldn’t it? But you had to be brave in the face of this, this…

You feel your eyes tear up. You really don’t want to cry, not now. He was some sort of fox; he would probably hear you sobbing from where ever he went off too but… you can’t help it, your stresses piling up until your fit to burst, leaving you in the little tears that stream down your face. It isn’t long before you’re downright bawling, shoving your face into the too nice pillow in a feeble attempt to muffle your voice.

Obviously, it doesn’t work and it isn’t long before you hear the undeniable sound of feet bounding down the stairs. You attempt to collect yourself in vain, but Ren is upon you before you’re even done rubbing your tired eyes.

“_____? Is everything okay?” His voice is so soft, so very sweet. As if he’s not the cause of all your problems.

“I-I’m sorry…!” You blubber out, scared he might do something else to hurt you. “I-I just…” It isn’t long before you burst into another fit of tears.

“H-hey it’s okay!” You jump as you feel his arms slither around your waist. Ren doesn’t let you go, though, merely pulls you closer into his embrace. “I know you’re probably a little confused… but I’ll take care of you, I promise!” He coos. “You don’t have anything to worry about, okay?” His words provide little comfort to you but you try to convince yourself to calm down regardless, taking slow deep breathes to even your breathing and hopefully stop sobbing.

“There you go, easy…” He hums as you take another shuddering breath. “What’s got you all sad for buddy?” he asks softly, laughing gently. You consider your words carefully.

“I-I’m just… not used to this place, is all.” You mumble softly. It wasn’t a complete lie, but you weren’t sure if it was enough to convince him. “I um, still sleep with a lot of stuffed animals and plushies so… I guess I just got a little lonely here by myself.” You admit softly.

“Oh, is that it?” Ren laughs softly. “If it would make you feel better… I could stay with you?” Your eyes widen at his proposition. Was that an offer you could even say no to? “I’ll even bring down one of my favorite plushies for you, hold on!” Before you can even think to argue, he’s racing off again, up the stairs. It’s silent a moment before you can hear him charging back down, pushing right into your door.

Triumphantly, he hold up something round. In the dark of your room it’s hard to make out but… “Is that a pusheen plush?” You ask softly.

“It is!” He grins, climbing back on the bed and handing it to you. It was covered in… orange fur, you noted, but it was impossible to mistake. You had this same plush back home… It was one of your favorites to cuddle to sleep. “She’s one of my favorites, but I think you need her more than I do.” He gives you a grin, his features softening as he looks at you.

“That’s really sweet of you…” You can’t help but mumble, holding her closely. “I had a plush just like this one, so… yeah.” You don’t know what else to say, look away from him. You definitely feel better then the minutes before but spending time with Ren felt strange. Like you shouldn’t be as relaxed as you feel.

“I’m glad you think so. I just want you to be comfortable here. With me.” The smile he gives you has an edge to it, his voice sweet with a sharpness. “So… don’t hesitate to trust me, okay?” It’s as if he read your mind. Or maybe perhaps, was questioning your motives.

“I… won’t.” You answer softly, laying down in the bed with the plushie protectively held to your chest. You go under the covers and mumble out. “Good night, Ren.” This time, you openly squeal as you feel his hands circle around your waist. He happily cuddled up to you, tail and legs wrapping around your own and head nuzzled atop yours.

“Night _____. Rest well.” His whispered voice in your ear causes you to shiver. You can’t help but think that you’ve only gotten yourself into a worse situation than the one you found yourself in before…

#minors dni #btd ren #btd ren hana #18+ #ren hana x reader #ren x reader #btd 2 #outing myself as gross #just wait it gets worse :)

[specialagentlokitty]

Klaus mikaelson x reader - pride aside

A/N: this is based on a dream I had last night ngl but like I changed it a bit

Seeing everyone at the ball dancing and laughing was great, but it hurt you a little bit.

Sitting on the stairs, you sighed softly and leant back on your hands as you tilted your head up to look at the sky instead.

“Not one for dancing?” A smooth voice asked.

You looked to your side to see Klaus stood there with some random girl attached to his arm.

“No one to dance with.” You shrugged.

“Come on now, I’m sure there’s a guy who’s just as lonely.”

With that, he smiled and walked away and you clenched your jaw in frustration.

That hurt, deeply. Is that how he saw you? Lonely?

Is that how everyone saw you? Just the lonely person that couldn’t find a date to a stupid ball you’d been waiting to attend since last year?

You only came back so you could help Bonnie practice some new spells, it’s the only reason you came to mystic falls again. You were happy at your families home a few states over.

Getting up, you made your way to the main doors and you slipped out and headed back home to throw on some more comfortable clothes and went straight to bed.

The next day, you were met with knocking on your door, so, with a small sigh of you walked over and unlocked it, letting everyone trickle in.

“When did you get home?” Damon asked, “I was supposed to bring you back.”

“Yeah, I left early.” You smiled.

“Are you okay?” Caroline frowned.

You nodded and smiled a little more, trying to force it as much as possible.

“Yeah, I was just tired was all.”

“She was sad and lonely.” Klaus mused.

You glared at him.

“Leave her alone Niklaus.” Elijah sighed.

“It’s true though, right love? You were lonely because no one wanted to dance with you.”

“Klaus!” Stefan snapped.

They bickered for a few moments and you decided to just ignore them.

“Oh come on! No one was desperate enough to ask her to dance! That’s why she left!” Klaus snapped.

And you snapped.

Raising your hand, you pinned him to the wall.

“(Y/N)!” Jeremy yelled.

You raised your other hand, gesturing for them all to be quiet as you locked eyes with the original hybrid.

“You know what Klaus, I’ve tried! I have tried to be nice, tried to be patient and understanding with you while all of this shit is going down. I have tried to protect you and Elijah as well as everyone else so you can all bring down the stupid ass witch that’s trying to destroy this whole place! But I’ve had enough!”

You swiped your hand to the side and sent in flying into some furniture.

“I have tried time and time again with you! And I’m done! I’m sick and tired of all of this, being ridiculed because unlike everyone else I don’t have anyone by my side to protect me! Because the one person I want to protect me is a pretentious dickhead who only cares about himself!”

You stared at him, and his hands covered his ears as he groaned in pain and no one dared to stop you.

“I’m done with you Klaus Mikaelson, and you know what? You’re going to die alone because you clearly can’t tell when someone loves you! At least I’ll be able to find someone unlike you.” You snarled.

Grabbing your car keys you made a gesture with you hands and a light blue barrier appeared in front of the doorway, blocking them all in.

“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall in love with you. I hope you get staked.”

Everyone begged you to let them go and you shook your head.

“It’ll fade in a few hours, don’t follow me.”

With that, you left and sped away from the town with fury burning through your veins and sadness dee0 within your soul.

How you even fell for him was beyond you but you hated it, you wanted to just go back and move on, find someone knew who would actually love you and care for you.

You were going to go home, and forget all about mystic falls.

You were done with that place and the memories it had.

Racing down a background, you mumbled out a spell and watched as a portal appeared in the middle of the road and you drove through it, driving up a dirt driveway.

Parking your car, you got out and walked up to the large house, kneeling in front of your porch you placed a hand on the ground and whispered a spell.

To stop them from being able to track you.

Then you whispered out another, watching as blue borders appeared around the edge of the place.

Any humans who didn’t know about the supernatural would just appear on the other side, and that do know or any supernaturals won’t be able to get in without your explicit permission.

With that, you walked inside.

“Back so soon?” You dad asked.

“I’m done with that place.”

“Is that why you warded the place?” Your mom asked, arms crossed over her chest.

You looked up at her and gave a small shrug.

“I’m taking precautions. I don’t want them to come near or find this place.”

“What happened?” You dad sighed.

You simply shook your head at them and went upstairs, hoping a bath would help erase some of the stress from the day.

For the next week your phone was blowing up with texts and calls, but the only person you would respond to was Bonnie, since you had a promise to keep.

Sitting on the front steps, you had your laptop on your lap as you spoke with her.

“Spells aren’t always about the words bonnie, you can still practice magic without reciting like you know. It’s not about who’s been doing it the longest, it’s about willpower. As long as you’re willing to protect, nature will provide.”

“We need the barrier spell you use, it’s the only way we can trap her.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Bonnie.. that’s a spell my family created years ago to trap vampires.”

“Will it work for other witches?”

“It worked on you right?” You smirked slightly.

She laughed and nodded her head.

“I’ll teach it to you, but I’ll need you to come here.”

“And where is here?” She asked.

“Simple, turn around.”

You hung up and stood up, making your way down the steps, you opened a portal and waved her through it.

She was unsure at first but she slowly stepped through in amazement.

“Another spell my family made. But it can only be open for a few seconds.”

“Why?” She asked.

You closed it and turned to her.

“Essentially we’re cutting a hole in time and space, allowing us to move from one place to another. We can open it as often as we want, but we can’t have it open too long otherwise we’ll loose control.”

“Is thag how you got here so fast? Where is here?”

“In the middle of nowhere lovely, everything here is run by magic.” Your mom smiled.

She greeted Bonnie with a hug and handed you the family grimour.

“Teach her everything she needs.”

“Of course mom.”

“We’re heading out on business, but you know what to do.” Your dad smiled.

Nodded, you waved them off and you got to work.

Over the following week you had Bonnie practice trying to break out the barrier you put around her, but she couldn’t even crack it.

“It’s all about having nature on your side, you try.”

Bonnie recited the spell, a barrier appeared around you, and she smiled happily.

You gave a light knock on it and hummed with a small hug.

“Quite sturdy, I think you’ll be able to trap her.”

“I just need to keep practicing, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How do I bring it down?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

Placing your hand on it, it shattered and you beamed and it.

That’s when you felt it, a disturbance at the far end of the one you set up, and you turned in its direction.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Someone is here.”

“Want me to come?”

“Yes please, I may need your help.”

Opening a portal, you both jogged through and down the hill to the end of the barrier, but as you got closer you could see who it was and all you did was sigh.

“Klaus?” Bonnie asked.

His head shot up.

“Leave this place. I don’t know how you found it but you’re not invited.”

“Not until we talk.” He said.

“We’ve got nothing to talk about.”

“I’ll stay here if I have to, but I’m not leaving until we talk.”

“Bonnie you can head back, remember what I taught you?”

“Yeah. I’ll get dinner ready.”

Smiling thanks, you waited for her to leave before turning back to the hybrid.

You walked over and stood right in front of him, arms crossed over your chest.

“What do you want?”

He stepped back and held out his hand with a small smile on his lips.

“Dance with me?” He asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Dance with me.” He repeated.

“I thought no one was desperate enough to ask.” You snapped.

He flinched back slightly and sighed, letting his hand fall back to his head.

“No one is. But I am.”

“You’re desperate?”

“Yes. In fact, I’m desperate for you love. I want you, actually, rather, I need you. So no one may be desperate enough to ask, but I’m glad they’re not, since I’m desperate and perhaps foolish enough to ask after what I ask and did to you.”

“You’re right, you are foolish. Get away from my house.”

You started to walk away.

“What can I do to prove it?” He called.

You scoffed.

“Maybe if you got on your knees and beg mikaelson.”

His pride and ego was too big to let him to that. You were waiting for some sarky comment or an angry remark.

“If that’s what it takes.”

In shock, you turned around.

His eyes locked with yours as he slowly got down on his knees, hands in his lap as he stared at you.

“Here I kneel, my pride aside, for you. So I can tell you that I do in fact love you, but I wasn’t aware you felt the same, I didn’t want you to get hurt, and in the process I hurt you, and I never meant to. I will stay here all night if you wanted me to. If you told me to stay here I would, if you told me to walk to the ends of the earth for you I would.”

You were speechless, you didn’t think he’d actually get on his knees, you didn’t think he was capable of saying anything nice.

Staring at him for a few seconds, you walked a little closer.

“If you want me to beg for you then fine. I am begging you (Y/N), right here and now, to say you love me.”

He stayed on his knees and never moved and inch.

Turning around, you stared walking again.

You heard Klaus sigh, and mumble something about leaving you alone.

“Come on.” You called.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“Come on.”

You stopped and turned to face him.

He was unsure at first, and he placed his hand on the barrier to show he couldn’t but he stumbled through it, and within a second he was right in front of you, your face between his hands.

“I will love you from now until the end of my life.” He whispered.

Leaning down, he softly kissed you and you quickly responded, arms going around his neck to pull him closer.

Klaus pulled away first, kissing your nose and forehead, before he smiled softly down at you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you.” He whispered, “and I’m sorry for everything I did and said.”

“I won’t forgive you so easily, but you can start making it up to me.”

“Anything sweetheart.” He smiled.

You nodded and took his hand in yours, opening a portal to take you both back to the house were Bonnie was waiting outside with a small smile on her face when you guys approached.

Klaus looked at you, and he couldn’t help but smile.

He hurt you, yes, but he was going to do anything he could, anything you asked to make it up to you. Even if it meant getting on his knees for the whole world to see and begging for your forgiveness

#the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries #tvd #tvd imagine #tvd fandom #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson

[afewproblems]

21 from the angst prompt list with Steddie could be devastating or silly. But I’m a big fan of devastating especially when you do it!

Prompt 21: This isn't What It Looks Like

Thank you so much for sending this in Nonny! I hope that I've done the request justice! 😊 I thought that this would fit really well in my WIP Lost and Lonely Just Like Heaven, ghost Eddie AU. You don't necessarily have to read it to still enjoy the feels (which a definitely inspired by the new Stranger Things Season Five set photos) but I would recommend it!

Anyways, please enjoy!

***

"Boy, you have about ten seconds to get the hell outta here before I put my foot up your ass," a gruff voice barks out from behind Steve. 

It's drizzling this morning, the drops make an audible pattern across the grass and stones around them and an ominous grumble of thunder in the distance threatens more to come.

Steve drops the rag in the bucket he brought with him and lifts his hands up; he knows who is standing behind him without turning around.

Wayne Munson. 

He has the same drawl in his voice that Eddie did, though slightly more pronounced, and really, who else would be here this early on a Sunday morning? 

"This isn't what it looks like," Steve says as he turns, still crouched down beside the gravestone, the new graffiti stands out, angry and red against the gray stone.

 

He gestures slowly at the bucket of soapy water and the brush hanging off the side, watching as the older man's eyes narrow slightly. 

Wayne looks tired, more haggard than when Steve had seen him at the school during the disaster relief event. His denim jack hangs off of his shoulders and no amount of salt and pepper stubble can hide the way his cheeks have become so gaunt. 

"Haven't we been through enough," Wayne sighs heavily as he raises a hand to wipe down over his face, "you have to take away an old man's place to mourn his boy? I know what you people thought of him".

"Mr. Munson, please," Steve slowly stands up and takes a deep breath, "I'm a friend of Dustin's, I just wanted to help".

He points at the bucket again, "he hasn't been…" Steve swallows a heavy lump in his throat as he thinks of the way Dustin had sent him away the last time he went to see him. 

"He hasn't been good since…everything happened, and I just want to help because I know Eddie meant the world to him, to both of you". 

He doesn't mention the man standing in his peripheral vision, watching them both with a sad smile on his pale, scarred face. 

He also doesn't mention the way Dustin looked at Steve when he told him to get out of his life.

Steve blinks, ignoring the sharp sting in his nose as he tries to will away the moisture gathering at his lash line.

Eddie mouths something at him, but he can't hear it over the sound of the rain as the patter increases into a downpour. 

He blinks again and Eddie is gone.

Steve considers telling Wayne, but the other man still looks like he's about five seconds from telling Steve to go fuck himself, and if Dustin wasn't ready to hear it, he's certain Wayne won't be either.

Wayne is still staring at Steve, his jaw shifts as though he's chewing on the words he wants to say, 

"That boy, Dustin," Wayne says softly now, "he's a good kid, s'the only other one who came to talk to me other than Ed's band mates".

Steve nods, he knows Dustin is a good kid, that's part of the reason why his dismissal the other night hurt so goddamn much.

"I just want to make things better," Steve whispers into the rain, he watches as his breath collects in front of him in the cool morning air. 

Wayne shakes his head, gesturing at the head stone, the one with bright red words painted across the name Edward Munson. 

"There is no better kid, not for me at least". 

He sighs, long and low, and reaches into his jacket pocket for a crumpled pack of smokes. Wayne pulls a lighter from the same pack and cups his hand over the igniter to save it from the rain, flicking it again and again until he throws the plastic away from himself with shaking hands. 

Wayne drops the unlit cigarette into the wet grass and fixes Steve with a new angry glare, "you should go, we don't need any help, you're just going to draw more attention to it".

"But--"

"I told you to go," Wayne barks out, his pale face flushes as he takes a step towards Steve and the gravestone, "I don't know you from Adam, and I'm sure you mean well".

Steve takes a step back in surprise, and hurt, he wishes Robin had come with him. She was always better at explaining things, even if her word vomit often got them into more trouble than they were aiming for, she still managed to get the words out. 

"I won't ask again," Wayne says softly now, his face turned away towards the edge of the cemetery. 

Steve swallows hard and nods. He picks up the bucket from the ground and slowly makes his way back to the sidewalk. 

Steve takes a deep breath, forcing himself not to turn around, even as he hears Wayne fall to his knees at the grave. The thunder does nothing to drown out the way the older man begins to cry. 

#steve harrington #wayne munson #lost and lonely just like heaven #ghost eddie au #stranger things #eddie munson #afewproblems writes #afewproblems answers #this is really really angsty #like i hurt myself in the process with this one #sorry yall #steve just wants to help and isnt that just the kicker #pre steddie

[falasteen7urrah]

it’s been a while since i evacuated gaza and i’m finally just going to write…. i used to write when i was in gaza and when i evacuated but now it’s been a while but it’s the same… i’m just exhausted, i’m tired, i’m scared, every night, every day, all my friends, all my family, still there. now every smile, every sip of water, of juice, every breath of fresh air, free of soot and death and blood and carnage, every moment of silence, it all feels so heavy, feels too free… there’s so much guilt and sadness to know i’m safe. to know there’s no more bombs for me, no more sniping, no more hunger, i’m safe. i’m good.

ofc im eternally grateful to know me, my family were safe, but what about everyone else. in gaza there’s a saying in arabic "الموت ارحم مع بعض" which means that “death is more merciful together” because we live in fear constantly we always comfort each other by saying at least if we did well die together, although it’s not true, even if we were bombed, a lone survivor would still be a possibility, possibly living days alone under the rubble alive amongst rubble and corpses… going back to the saying. that’s the most agonizing thing about being safe. is that i’m not together, with them, with my friends and family back in gaza. if they die. i stay alive. and it’s already happened.

i learned of my friend dying with her entire family, stuck under rubble, never getting a dignified burial, and it made me fear checking news or texting anyone back in gaza out of fear of a new message of a new death of another life ended and for weeks i couldn’t bear to get myself to text anyone or check the news. and then i got back, and it happened again. the death never ends, and even even if the “war” ended today. the death will never end. from all the diseases, the amputations, the infections, the cancer, even all the mental illnesses that will arise because of this current session of this 76-year long genocide. it’s just sickening.

#free gaza #free palestine #gaza #gaza genocide #gazaunderattack #save gaza #save palestine #israhell #stand with gaza #palestine #ceasefire #ceasfire now

[stickandthorn]

Please write that meta on Imogen and Laudna if you want, I would love to read it.

Well anon, good news, I would love to talk about it! Bad news, it will be very rambly and mildly incoherent, as I am incredibly tired. I am keepin it below the cut for your sakes

(Disclaimer, this is not dissing anyone else’s interpretation, if you disagree that’s fine. I’m not here to say anyone is wrong for their views on the characters and their relationship. Even if I disagree with you, I don’t think you need to agree with me, because stories are filtered through the experience and analysis of the individual viewer and everyone has their own personalized interpretation etc.)

This is something I’ve believed for a long time, but Imogen and Laudna’s conversation this episode really solidified my thoughts on it. Imogen and Laudna love each other, but they don’t love each other for who the other is, they love each other for the certainty of the other’s existence in their life. They also don’t care how they exist in their life, only that they do.

I think the best one line summation of all this is when Laudna said their relationship “transcended words.” I think that’s the closest they’ve gotten to the uncomfortable truth of their relationship. Their relationship is not about communication, it isn’t about the messy work of making compatible the nitty gritty of who they are, it is about being able to have each other no matter what. No matter who each other is.

Every conversation Laudna and Imogen have had has been an almost lampshading-esque conversation about their relationship. It has always been assuaging doubt, reassuring the other that they’ll always be there, and that things will be ok. Talking about the optimistic future, comforting one another, maybe expressing a little sadness or uncertainty that they can find reassurance about. But they always very quickly drift away from any conversations that are either genuinely difficult and messy, or aren’t about the surety of their bond. The few times something genuinely difficult does come up, like the rock incident, it’s avoided till it can be moved on from without trouble and without that difficult communication.

Look at Ashton and Laudna’s conversation this episode. They were vulnerable and honest with each other about some really uncomfortable topics. It wasn’t a fun conversation, but they came out the other side of it understanding one another better, and maybe themselves as well. That is the foundation of a close, genuinely emotionally intimate relationships of any kind. That is what creates a bond that genuinely centers around who the people in it are.

But Laudna and Imogen avoid those topics. Imogen is often more emotionally honest with other people like Orym, and Laudna with Ashton, than they are with each other. That is where the true worries and flaws and truths that can’t be comforted away come out. They actually seem rather uncomfortable with emotional honesty with each other. In the conversation in question, Imogen started by saying she was fine, which she clearly wasn’t, and Laudna had to press her to get her to start being honest. Because they need their relationship to be positive, or else it might not always be there.

I don’t think this is because of denial or naivety, but because that is just not why they need each other. Laudna said so herself, she said she’d back up Imogen no matter what choice she made. The foundation of their relationship is not emotional honesty or love of who the other is as a person, but that the other was there after years of being lonely. Now that’s all there is to preserve. Purposefully avoiding or outright accepting all the negatives of the other and their relationship will always allow them to guarantee there they will never be alone again. And that’s all they need. To be blunt: the reason Imogen didn’t talk to Laudna after her resurrection, and why Laudna didn’t seem upset, was because all that matters in their relationship is that the other is there. The very act of Laudna being alive was all it took. Imogen holding Laudna after she came back was fulfilling what the relationship had been doing. It’s a very close relationship, but it is a purposefully somewhat hollow one.

This isn’t meant as invalidation of what is there. It’s an extremely important relationship to the characters, one which you can interpret any way, this is just my take on it.

#cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #meta #cr3 #bells hells #cr stuff #Ask #anon #answered

[java-lava]

Platonic! Kunikuzushi x Fem! Creator! Reader.

(So I know I said I wasn’t going to write anything for the next two weeks, but consider this a cheat post)

I’ve finally decided that when I start writing again (in two weeks) that along with the updates to my current series, and the requests I’ve gotten, that I’m going to turn my Sagau Drabble into a series! It will be called “Golden Constellations”. This one shot is not canon to my series, it’s kind of like an au to my series.

Platonic! Kunikuzushi x Fem! Creator! Reader.

“” means talking, **means thinking.

Also words in purple is Kunikuzushi talking and words in blue is (reader) talking.

Kunikuzushi didn’t know a lot yet (give him a break, he’s still a child) but he did know that the people of Teyvat, no matter which nation that they’re from, loved and admired the Creator. Everyone from the oldest adept and gods, to the children just learning to talk, sang praises of the creator of life in Teyvat. The Creator often roamed the world blessing people with her presence (and on occasion, these awesome things called visions). He had yet to meet her but if his friend’s thought she was amazing, then he did too! Even his own mother, who he knew first hand was hard to please, adored and respected the Creator.

After his friends turned him away, Kunikuzushi felt lost, he felt alone and completely unlovable. He didn’t understand why no one ever stayed with him, why everyone he loved eventually cast him aside.

Kunikuzushi POV;

*Is there something wrong with me? There must be, why else would everyone abandon me? What is it? Can I fix it? I don’t want to be alone forever!* Just when the thoughts were running through his head, he heard a voice singing, it sounded so heavenly that he followed it through the forest, to a water fall. Next to the waterfall was a beautiful lady, with majestic (h/t) (h/c) flowing behind her as she sang to a fox that was napping in her lap. He was stunned, he couldn’t look away. Suddenly the lady looked at him with enchanting (e/c) eyes and waved him to come closer. When he sat down next to her she smiled and started humming the song she had been singing. Overcome with curiosity, Kunikuzushi asked the woman her name, to which she giggled a little and said “(Reader), it’s nice too meet you Kunikuzushi!” He was stunned *how did she know my name?!?* after talking with her for a while he learned that she was the Creator, and she learned how lonely he was. “Come travel with me, be my traveling companion.” She suggested to the puppet, and he agreed.

Third person POV;

After the two became closer, Kunikuzushi revealed his backstory to her and she was LIVID. (Reader) was just about to go talk to (read beat the living daylights out of) the Raidan Shogun, but Kuni, as she now affectionately called him, begged her not to.

(Years later)

Kunikuzushi finally knew what it was like to be loved, he still couldn’t believe that the Creator herself had chose him to be her “son” as she calls him. His own creator, his first mother, abandoned him without care, but the creator of everything (including his first mother) loved him and called him hers. He couldn’t be happier! But just like all good things, this too must come to an end.

Kunikuzushi had noticed (Reader) getting tired more quickly, and she seemed to grow paler by the day. One day she asked him to take a walk with her, which wasn’t out of the ordinary so why did he have a sinking feeling in his stomach?…..

“Kuni, my son, my heart…. There is something I need to tell you…” she said solemnly

“What is it mother?”

“Well, there is good news, you are going to be a big brother! I’m pregnant!” She said with a weary smile

“Really?!? That’s amazing!” He said, even though he was slightly worried that if she had children of her own that she’d forget about him.

“But then, why do you seem sad?” He said, she knew her well enough to know that she was hiding something.

“Because having a child will take a large amount of my celestial energy, meaning I might lose my physical form until I can recharge my magic. Which means that I might have to leave for a little while.” She said

Kunikuzushi’s eyes widened, and it took all his strength to not start sobbing. He knew that there was something wrong with himself! Why else would she be leaving him?!? Kunikuzushi was on the verge of a panic attack, when (reader) rapped her hands around him and hugged him.

“I will always love you! And you will always be my son. I promise to find you again when I come back.” She said while rubbing circles on his back to calm him down.

“You promise?” He said through tears

“I promise.” She said

(Centuries later)

“Well, so we meet again….Mother…. .” he said, the sentence dripping with venom

“Hello my son. I’m here as promised” she said gently

That’s when her lunged at her.

A/n; Let me know if you want a part two for this!

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin sagau #genshin impact wanderer #genshin impact self aware #genshin scaramouche #genshin kunikuzushi #genshin x you #genshin impact sagau #traveler genshin impact #creator reader

[kennarose1108]

Joel Miller x Reader !GUILTY!

*I KINDA HATE THIS STORY BUT I SPENT A LOT OF TIME WRITING IT SO I DECIDED TO POST IT INSTEAD OF KEEPING IT IN MY DRAFTS... ENJOY&lt;3*

This was new to him. New to both of you… But he wasn’t handling it well. He didn’t like the responsibility of you. He pushed everyone away and kept them a arms length away.. But somehow you were able to wiggle yourself deep into his heart. Further than anybody has since the apocalypse started.

But even though it was nice having a partner again he kind of hated it. He hated worrying about you, he hated feeling like you had to rely on him for everything (even though you told him you didn’t need to rely on him), and he hated the thought of something ever happening to you. He didn’t know what he would do if you got infected, killed… Or if you even died of a natural cause. The though just haunted him, and he hated it. So… To get you back at arms length he decided to push you away.

He had been ignoring you the last few days and it was driving you crazy. When you tried speaking to him he just grumble or grunt at you before walking off. You were confused on what you did wrong.

And the shared home you two had felt lonely and quiet because he was working so late and getting up so early. He was avoiding you, and you wanted to know why. So you waited for him. You were exhausted but you waited for him. It took a long time but he finally came home. You were sitting in the Livingroom and you watched him take off his jacket before making eye contact with you. “Joel. Sit.” You ordered. He looked away, “I’m tired.” Wow. He speaks. Granted it was only two words but it was the most he said to you in days. “I don’t care. Sit.” You ordered. He sighed and looked around for a moment, taking off his gloves and putting it in the pockets of his jacket that he just hung up.

He decided to lean against the doorframe and you scoffed. “You… You are a stubborn man.” You say while shaking your head. Normally he would’ve shot a remark back, saying something on the line of ‘is that really a shock’ or ‘you’re just finding this out’… But he kept his mouth shut and he continued to stare at you.

And because of him standing you decided to stand up yourself. You took a few steps towards him, still keeping a distance, and you cross your arms over your chest. “What’s going on?” You ask. “Nothing.” He says with a blank stare. “Bullshit.” You snap. He continued to stare at you blankly. “You’ve been ignoring me for days. It’s like you want nothing to do with me.” You say with a sad shrug. “Is there something going on with you? Did I do something wrong?” You ask. He sighs and looks down, “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I just don’t want anything to do with you?” He asked, still staring at the floor. You stare at him wide eyed, this wasn’t Joel… Why was he acting like this? “Huh?” “Have you even thought that maybe I’m avoiding you is because I don’t want anything to do with you? That maybe I’m not in love with you anymore?” His voice was rising and your heart began to race. “Or maybe I wasn’t in love with you in the first place.” He mumbled, finally looking at you. You paused for a moment before letting out a shaky breath, “Joel.. This… This the part where you apologize.” “No this is the part where you leave.” Your heart dropped. He was kicking you out? “And go where?” You ask. You had no where else to go. “There’s a blizzard outside.” You say while pointing to the window.. “Not my problem.” He answered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You ask, tears welling in your eyes,

No, no this wasn’t right. He was going too far. He was pushing you away too far.. But it was too late. The damage was already done. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued to give you his famous blank stare. You scoff as a tear fell from your eye. “Fuck you.” You say in disbelief. You walk over to the front door and threw your coat over your body and quickly put on your boots. You took one last look at him before you left. He was standing in the same spot, he hadn’t moved. You shake your head before storming out of the house, his heart following you close behind.

You walked around the city, not knowing where to go or what to do. But you knew you had to get out of there. You ran over to the stables and saw Tommy coming out with one of his lookout buddies. You hop onto a horse and start to charge for the gates as they closed. “Y/N? Y/N?!” Tommy tried stopping you, he knew you were going to die if you left. But as the gates closed you managed to fit the gap right before they shut. “Shit… Shit!” Tommy yelled.

When you thought you were safe you slowed your horse down and it started to walk. It was freezing, and you started to regret your decision. You turned your head, then again, and again. Where did you come from? Panic rose in your body, you were lost. In a blizzard. You had no idea where you were. The tracks your horse left behind were already filled. The only thing you could do was go in the direction you thought was right and hope for the best.

Your horse walked for awhile, you felt bad because you knew it was freezing. And just as things couldn’t get worse you heard loud screaming… But it wasn’t of a person. Right in front of you saw a runner charge towards you. You turn your horse around and tried going in the other direction, but more and more runners showed up.

You were surrounded..

Joel felt his heart break when you left. He didn’t want to take it that far but he did. He slowly walked over to his couch and sat down, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He held onto his head and fought off the urge to go after you. He wanted to. Every fiber in his body was screaming at him to get off this couch and go after you. But he didn’t. He thought this was for the best.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there but the sound of his front door slamming open brought him back to reality. “JOEL?” Tommy called before he saw his brother in the Living-room. “Joel. Fuckin’ Y/N ran out of the gates before they closed.” Tommy says, huffing and puffing the process since it was obvious he ran here. Joel’s heart sank as he stood onto his feet. “What?” “No time to explain. We need to find her before she gets herself killed.” Joel nodded, not wanting to waste anytime. He grabbed his goat and followed his younger brother to the stables.

Both Joel and Tommy got onto their horses and ran through the gates that were slightly open again just for them. "Shit there's no tracks!" Tommy yelled through the sounds of wing whistling through the air. "We'll find her!" Joel called. You wouldn't go far, you never went far.

Him and Tommy rode through the snow but Joel suddenly stopped. "What?" Tommy says. Joel nodded his head towards what he was looking at. Tommy's eyes land on a puddle of cold, fresh blood. It was easily five, ten minutes old as it was only now starting to freeze over. The warmth of the blood probably kept it exposed for this long. Both Tommy and Joel's heart was racing. "We gotta find her.." Joel mumbled, he wasn't even sure Tommy could hear him but he had to say it for himself too. Joel followed the droplets of blood, them getting from smaller to bigger. He was getting close, he just knew it. He followed the blood until Tommy stopped him, "Joel. Look." He says. Joel looked where Tommy was pointing to see a huge chunk of snow that was dark red. There was something under it.

Joel looked up and saw the snow on top of the mountain edge had fallen onto this. He quickly hopped off his horse and ran towards the lump. "JOEL! Shit." Tommy yells while trying to get his brothers attention. Joel ignored him and ran towards the lump in the snow. He fell to his knees and started to tunnel through the snow. Thank god he had his gloves on, otherwise he would've frozen his hands off.

As he tunneled through the bloody snow he was just hoping, praying, you weren't under it. He finally made it to the body underneath, and thank god... It was the horse. He sighed in relief but he saw a hand of a runner twitching under the snow. He backed off and looked over the landscape.

"Jesus... It's mutilated. Is she around?" Tommy asks. Joel looked around, "Y/N?!" He called. He continued calling for you, he screamed out your name hoping for a answer back.

And then he heard it... "Joel?" The sound of your voice echoed through he trees, you weren't able to yell loud. When you heard Joel yelling for you, you were barely clinging onto life. Your hands were numb from the lack of gloves and you could barely feel your feet and legs. You were still moving though, still fighting to live. But you were growing tired and your body was giving out on you. But when you heard Joel yelling for you, you felt a sense of hope.

You turned to the voice, it was coming from where you came from. You started to call for him and dragged your feet through the snow to get to his voice.. But then you collapsed. You then took what felt like your last breaths. Your body was cold and numb and you couldn't move... But you managed to mumble out one last thing..

"Joel.."

When Joel heard you yelling for him back he continued to call for you, before sprinting in the direction of your voice. Tommy groaned and tried calling after Joel, but Joel didn't listen. He yelled for you and you yelled back... Until you didn't. He began to panic more and he continued to run.

He then stopped when he saw your lifeless body face down in the snow. When he started running again he slid on his knees as he fell to the ground next to you. "Y/N?" He says while rolling you over onto your back. Your skin was pale and your lips were a light shade of blue. He pulled you close and held you in his arms. He moved his ear down to your cold lips and he paid close attention. He heard Tommy showing up behind him on his horse, Joel's horse following close behind as Tommy held onto it's lead. Joel shuttered, but not from the cold. "She's not breathing." He says in a voice of panic. He laid you down on his lap and started to take off his gloves. "Get her warm. Get her blood pumping." Tommy ordered. Joel put his gloves onto your freezing hands and he quickly took off his jacket and putting it on over your body. When he felt your skin it didn’t even feel human anymore.. It didn’t feel like you anymore.

He picked you up and carried you bridal style. He got onto his horse with you in his arms. "We need to get her to the infirmary." Joel yells before his horse took off. He held your head close to his chest, hopefully his body heat would help. When they made it back to Jackson he didn't bother getting off his horse, he proceeded to ride on his horse until he stopped in front of the infirmary.

He hopped off his horse, you still in his arms, and he ran inside of the infirmary. He begged for help, yelling at the top of his lungs that you weren't breathing. The nurses and doctors scrambled to help you out. A nurse lugged out a metal table and told him to lay you onto it.

He did what he was told and the nurses scrambled to get blankets and things to warm you up. Joel was so invested on what they were doing that he hadn't even realized Tommy was behind him. "Joel. Let's leave them take care of her alright?" Tommy says while touching his shoulder. Joel nodded and he followed Tommy out onto the porch of the infirmary.

Two hours went by and the word spread around that you weren't okay. Soon Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Maria showed up. Everyone was pacing around the porch, all besides Joel. He was sitting down, his face buried in his hands.

"What's taking so fuckin' long?" Ellie hisses. "It takes time Ellie. Be patient." Maria says while touching her arm. Joel was getting antsy too even though it didn't look like it. He was honestly thinking the same thing, what was taking them so long?

And just as he was about to snap the door to the infirmary opened. Joel looked up to make sure it was a nurse and when he realized it was one he jolted out of his seat and walked over to her. "Is she alright?" He asked in a panic. "She's stable. Whether we know she's alright or not we still don't know. But she's alive." The nurse says with a nod. It was a relief, but Joel was still slightly confused. "What do you mean 'you don't know'?" He asks. "Time will tell. She could have issues we wont be able to detect until she's awake and can answer our questions. Her hands and feet are twitching which is a good sign." They explained.

"But when you brought her to us she had already been dead for a few minutes. She wasn't breathing and her heart had stopped. That alone could cause severe psychical and psychological trauma. And she also had hypothermia which could possibly give her brain damage." They explained. "You all can see her. Just... One at a time." They explain before stepping inside of the building.

Joel hung his head low, "Y'all go first I'll.. Go last." He walked back over to the seat he was in and sat down. “Joel she doesn’t want to be around us… She wants you-“ “Ellie, please.” Joel says while interrupting her. She frowned and shook her head. “Fine.” She huffed.

As time flew by every person had their turn and now it was his. He took a gulp before going into the infirmary. When he made it to your room his eyes scanned the place until his eyes fell on you. You were in a bed this time. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He walked over to you and looked at you. You looked so so much better. Your skin had some color to it and your lips were still slightly pale but they weren’t blue, which was a good sign. You had heavy blankets over your body and a hot wash cloth over your forehead. Joel could see from the collar of your jacket that you were still wearing his jacket.

He hadn’t even noticed how cold he was until he remembered he gave you his jacket. But he didn’t mind nor was he taking it back anytime soon. He grabbed the chair that was next to your bed, which he was sure everyone sat in beforehand, and sat down. He watched you for a moment, he felt like absolute shit.

He then snuck his hand under your blanket and rested his hand on yours. Your hands were warm.. Different than before. Before your hands felt cold and stiff, and now they were warm and soft like they usually are. Your fingers twitched under his hand and he remembered what the doctor said, ‘Her hands and feet are twitching which is a good sign.’ But it still didn’t feel good. He felt horrible it came to this. Horrible that because of him you ran off and almost died.

Joel moved his hand away and rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and placed his cheek on his closed fist. He watched you until he felt himself falling into a deep sleep.

A few more hours went by and you started to stir in your sleep. You opened your eyes and cringed away from the light shining above your head. You covered it with your forearm before taking in the smell of your surroundings.. It smelled like… Medicine? You look sit up slightly and notice you’re in the infirmary. Then the memory of what happened flooded back into your mind. You were almost dead… Or did you die? You couldn’t remember. You turned to the window and saw it was still dark out. You then realized you weren’t alone in the room as you heard light snoring behind you. You turn your head to see Joel sleeping in the chair next to your bed.

The last thing you remember was Joel calling for you before you collapsed. He saved your life.

Not wanting to wake him, you slowly moved your legs from under the blanket and you swung them over the edge of your bed. You felt weak and you knew walking wasn’t going to be easy. So you slowly moved your feet onto the ground and you tried your best to stand up. You wobbled around and groaned at the full body pain you were experiencing. Your muscles and joints were so sore.

When you regained some balance you nodded your head. You mumbled some praises to yourself and took a deep breath. You went to go and take a step but your leg could barely touch the ground before your other leg gave out on you.

Your body hit the ground with a loud thud and you coughed as you felt the wind get knocked out of your body. “Ow..” You say with a groan. You then felt a pair of hands gently grab your arms and lift you up off the ground. “Why the hell are you up?” Joel hisses. “I was going to go and tell a nurse I’m breathing.” You say. “You could’ve woken me up.” “Didn’t want to. You needed the sleep.” You say as Joel helps you back onto the bed. “I’ll go get the nurse.” He says, not even looking you in the eye. He walks out of the room and you frown.

You were convinced he was like this because of the things he said earlier. That he doesn’t love you but still feels a responsibility for you. After a minute Joel comes back in with a nurse. “How are you feeling?” She asks. “Achy.” You answered with a shrug.

After the nurse was finished examining you she said to just lay back and rest and she’ll check on you in a few hours. So she left you and Joel alone.. To sit in awkward silence.

But you had a question. One that was bothering you when you first woke up. “Joel.” He nodded his head towards you, indicating he was listening but he still didn’t look at you. “Did you mean it?” You ask. “Mean what?” He asks. “That you don’t love me..?” You ask in a low tone of voice. You sounded pitiful as you were trying to hold back tears the best way you could.

He continued staring at the floor and he furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s what you’re thinking about? You almost died.. And that’s what you’re thinking about.” He scoffed at you. “Actually you did die. Does that not bother you?” He asks while shaking his head. “Yes. But I’m alive now. So it doesn’t matter.” “It does matter-“ He snapped, but he stopped himself. “He continued staring at the floor and he furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s what you’re thinking about? You almost died.. And that’s what you’re thinking about.” He scoffed at you. “Actually you did die. Does that not bother you?” He asks while shaking his head. “Yes. But I’m alive now. So it doesn’t matter.” “It does matter-!“ He snapped, but he stopped himself.

“I’m gonna go…” He goes to walk for the door but you gasp, “Wait! Wait!” You lunge forward in your bed. Joel stops and he finally looks at you. He sees the panic in your face and he starts to cave. “Please… Please don’t go." You begged. Joel hesitated, he glanced at the door before looking back at you. He looked down and nodded before walking back over to the seat he was in and sat down.

Awkward silence filled the air and you stared down at your still gloved hands. You didn't know what to say... But he did. "No." You looked up at him. "No what?" You ask. "No I didn't mean it." You stare at him for a moment before looking back at your hands. "Then why did you say it?" You ask. When he didn't answer you sighed in frustration, "Look I think I deserve the right to know." You say while rolling your eyes. "I wanted to push you away." You scoff, "Why?" "For reasons like this." He says with his voice slightly rising. "I don't understand." You say while furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and frustration.

"I'm not used to someone being this close. And the thought of losing you scares me." He admits. You sit there dumbfounded. A part of you wanted to sympathize with him, but the other part knew you couldn't. "So you treat me like that because you're afraid...?" You mumble.

"No. No you don't get to push me away because you're afraid." He sighed, "Y/N-" "NO!" You shout. "You think I'm not afraid? Every time you go out on lookouts I expect a knock on my door telling me you're dead." You voice began to crack at the sudden rise in emotion in your body. "If it's not runners or clickers I'm worrying about it's the enemies you've made. You have a huge target on your back from all the shit you did when you brought Ellie across the country." You say as tears fell from your eyes. "But I don't give up. Even when I'm afraid. Because if I gave up, if any of us gave up... We'd have nothing. And we'd make no progress." You shake your head and look down at your bed. "And it's okay to be afraid. But you should be able to tell me your fears instead of just giving up." You wipe your tears and sigh in frustration.

Joel was silent. He was processing what you were saying, but of course... You were right. As always. When he didn't answer quick enough you scoffed, "If you wanna leave just go. I'm not stopping you this time." You turn your head to the side to make sure he doesn't see you at all.

Joel sighs before getting up out of his chair. He walked over to your bed and sat down down next to you. He wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders and pulled you close. "No.. I'm not letting you go this time." He says. You rest your head against his chest and he places a kiss on the top of you head.

"I'm sorry."

MASTERLIST

#joel miller #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #the last of us #tlou #hbo the last of us #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #angst #joel miller angst #argument #joel miller argument #joel miller x reader argument #joel miller x y/n argument #joel miller x reader fight #joel miller x y/n fight

[stargazingellie]

lazarus is risen

chapter seven: perseus & andromeda – part one

(masterlist) (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

hello beautiful people <3 here is chapter seven !!

synopsis: After deciding to let Abby live, Ellie has returned to Jackson. But given everything she's lost, it no longer feels like home. She's sad, she's confused, and above all else, she is so, so very lonely. So when a group of strangers shows up and offers her a second chance, she might just take them up on that. Ellie must decide between staying in Jackson – and living with the ghosts of her past – or leaving in search of new meaning. Whatever she decides, her choice will have far-reaching consequences – not just for herself, or for Jackson, but for all of humanity.

Or,

Ellie saves the world, maybe?

(ellie williams x reader, post-tlou2, useless lesbians, slow burn, cross country road trip, lots of references to greek mythology, etc.)

Andromeda: Princess of Greek myth, famous for her legendary beauty. Chained to a rock as sacrifice to the sea monster Cetus.

[Lucy]

Besides the occasional infected, the trip had been relatively quiet. But, as with all things in life, everything is quiet – until it isn’t.

As she watched the raindrops pelt the windshield, Lucy recalled lectures from the meteorology unit in science class. Her teacher’s voice rang in her head: The climate and geography of the midwest make it prone to thunderstorms, intense precipitation, and tornadoes.

Indeed, it did. Thick, heavy drops of water littered the front window faster than the windshield wipers could get rid of them. Bright, forked bolts of lightning split the  clouds and illuminated the otherwise darkened sky. Claps of thunder shook the inside of the truck so loud that Lucy could feel them reverberate in her teeth.

The truck crept its way down the highway, unable to go much faster than a crawl given the thick wall of water limiting visibility. To their left, periodic bolts of lightning backlit the skyline of a nearby city. Through the haze, Lucy could just barely make out the old green signs of the highway. Lincoln, ¼ Mile, they said.

“We’ll pull off and find shelter once we get past the city,” Jacobs yelled over the storm as he drove.

“Why not one of these buildings?” Lucy asked, gesturing down the off-ramp.

“We don’t know what’s down there. Should only be a few minutes. It’ll be safer further away,” Jacobs replied. 

As if on cue, a loud pop! echoed from below the truck. It wasn’t thunder.

“Shit – ” Jacobs muttered as he tried to regain control over the swerving vehicle, until it gradually came to a halt. He groaned, then sighed.

“There’s a spare in the back,” he announced as he and Alvaro prepared to get out. “Stay put, this shouldn’t take long.”

They disappeared from view as soon as their doors were shut. Inside, the heavy rain continued to beat rhythmically on the roof.

Lucy sighed and sunk lower in her seat. “Great timing, huh?” she said, looking over at Ellie. Ellie didn’t reply, instead wringing her hands as she nervously watched outside. It was obvious she was on edge.

Lucy took note and said, “Hey, it’s just a flat tire. They know what they’re doing. It’s gonna be fine.”

Keeping her gaze out the window, Ellie heaved a deep sigh and said, “I know, I know, I just… I have a bad feeling about this.”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked.

“Well, the cities can be really dangerous. There are some really bad groups out there, and sometimes they’ll come up with these schemes…” she trailed off, clearly remembering something unpleasant. She shook her head. “But yeah, no, I’m sure you’re right.” She turned to Lucy and forced a small smile. Lucy returned the gesture.

Then, the doors flung open, gloved hands reached inside, and all three passengers were ripped out of the truck.

The first thing she felt was the rain – so heavy and so cold. She had to squint to keep the water from dripping into her eyes. Within a matter of seconds, her hair and clothes were completely soaked through, chilling her to the bone.

She lost her footing as she was pulled from the truck, leaving her scrambling on all fours. Strong hands clenched around her wrists from behind, and she desperately tried to gain purchase on the ground as they dragged her away from the vehicle. When her captor came to a stop, Lucy was forced to her knees as the sharp, cold blade of a knife pressed against her throat. The blade was pressed so tightly to her skin that any sudden movement was sure to draw blood.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy could see her father in the same position as a second captor held a knife to his throat. The gloved hand holding the knife was attached to a tall figure wearing a dark, hooded cloak that obscured the rest of their body.

Through the watery haze in front of her, she could just make out Alvaro and Jacobs wrestling with two more hooded figures near the back of the truck. Lucy frantically looked around for their fifth member, but Ellie had been pulled to the other side of the vehicle and was nowhere to be seen.

“Ellie!” Lucy yelled, desperate to be heard over the downpour. She thought she heard a voice yell from beyond the truck, but it was impossible to be sure over the storm.

“Shut up,” a gruff voice from behind her said as the blade pressed deeper into her neck.

Without further outburst, Lucy watched Alvaro and Jacobs as they tussled with their opponents. The strangers were quick and nimble, deftly avoiding the officers’ advances. But the officers were built like oxen, so when they finally landed a punch the hooded figures crumpled to the ground in a heap of fabric.

With their opponents knocked out, the officers stopped to gauge their surroundings. Over here! Help! Lucy wanted to scream, but the knife at her throat kept her quiet. She had no way of knowing what had happened to Ellie, but she thought at least one of the officers would come to her and her father’s aid. She was instantly relieved when they looked in her direction. Yes, yes, we’re over here! She could have sworn she even locked eyes with one of them. 

Needless to say, her stomach dropped when both officers disappeared behind the other side of the truck. She kneeled tensely as the cold rain poured down her back, listening for any sign of life.

Next to her, the figure holding her father shifted their weight. “Hey, what’s going on over there?” they yelled. No response.

“Hey, man,” they said to the person holding Lucy. “We should get out of here while we still can.”

“We can’t just leave them out here!” Lucy’s captor replied.

“C’mon, they could be dead already for all we know! You saw what those guys did to the others.”

Her captor considered for a moment. “Fine, let’s go,” they said, as they removed the knife from Lucy’s neck. “Blessed be the light.”

Lucy didn’t have time to question the statement before the hilt of the knife collided with her temple and everything went black.

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

Lucy was still in her wet clothes when she woke, and immediately she started shivering. Wrists shackled above her, she sat leaning against the cold, hard wall of what looked like an old conference room. She brought her knees to her chest in a futile attempt to hold onto whatever warmth she could.

The blow from the knife left a throbbing pain in her head and blurred her vision. She had to squint in the harsh fluorescent light. Blearily, she watched as someone wearing a dark hooded cloak entered from the hallway carrying a tray. The figure approached and knelt in front of her, offering a glass of water.

Lucy turned her head in refusal, too weak to say anything more than “Nnn…”

“Please, it will help with the pain,” a gentle girl’s voice emanated from under the hood. “I promise.”

Lucy tried to make out the details of the girl’s face. The lights were too harsh and the hood’s shadow too dark, but Lucy could tell the girl was quite young – maybe 14, if that. She looked sincere, and Lucy reluctantly sipped from the glass as the girl held it to her lips. Lucy accepted apple slices too, glad to have something in her stomach.

The girl looked behind her as if to check if anyone was there. In a hushed voice, she said, “When he comes in, don’t fight him. He’s nicer if he thinks you like him.” Three sharp knocks came from the door, signaling her time was up as she turned to go. “The sedative should help with the pain, too,” she whispered as she hurried away.

Lucy realized what the girl meant just as her eyelids grew heavy and she was pulled back into unconsciousness.

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

As the drugs wore off, Lucy groggily opened her eyes to find a man seated in a chair in front of her. Unlike the others, this man wore a crisp, pristine suit and tie, face clearly visible. He was clean shaven, and his long, gray hair was carefully styled so as to leave no stray hair out of place. When he smiled at her, she noticed his teeth were a harsh, abnormal white.

“Hello, darling. Welcome back.” He flashed that awful smile at her again. She was still having trouble forming words, so he kept talking. “My men tell me they saved you on the highway out there. Nasty weather, huh? Lucky we were there to help.”

Lucy furrowed her brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. She knew she was probably nursing a concussion, and forming coherent thoughts proved to be an arduous task. “That’s… that’s not… what happened…” she managed.

“Mmm… must have been a nasty tumble you took,” he said, cocking his head. “Head injuries are no joke, you know.”

“I didn’t… f-fall…” she stammered as she glared at him.

“Ah, my sweet. Perhaps your memory will come back in time.” He raised his eyebrows and made a gesture of surprise with his hands. “Oh! How silly of me, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Keane. I run things here in the city. I’m looking forward to showing you around, once you’ve healed a bit.” He leaned forward and used his hand to caress her knee. Lucy tried to pull away, but there was only so far she could go with her back against the wall. “I think you’ll be very useful here.” He flashed another smile, and being almost face to face with it made her stomach turn. She spat in his face.

Immediately, his demeanor changed. The smile disappeared, his eyebrows lowered, and a cold, cruel look crept into his eyes. He calmly wiped the spit off of his face and leaned back.

“I see you’re not quite healed enough yet. Maybe next time I see you, you’ll remember how lucky you are to be here. Blessed be the light, sister.” He stood up and walked out of the room without saying another word. As he left, a large hooded figure entered, gloved hands wielding a thick baton. Lucy cowered against the wall as the figure swiftly crossed the room, coming directly for her. With one deft strike to the head, everything went black.

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

“Lucy? Lucy, hey, are you there?” a voice called, sounding far away. Hands gripped her shoulders and shook her back into semi-consciousness. In her half-aware state, Lucy saw the dark hood on the figure in front of her and struggled weakly to get away.

“N-no… get off of m-me…” she mumbled as she curled herself as far away from the figure as she could in her delirious state.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” The voice was soft. The figure removed their hood and gripped her face. Strong, calloused hands gently turned her face so Lucy was forced to look at the person in front of her. As Lucy’s vision focused, she found herself looking into a familiar pair of green eyes.

“Hey, it’s me. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Ellie talked as she unlocked the shackles above Lucy’s head. “I’m gonna get you out of here. Can you walk?” Lucy nodded weakly, but as Ellie helped her stand up, she almost collapsed.

“Woah, woah, okay. That’s okay. Just hold on, alright?” Ellie wrapped one arm around Lucy’s back and the other under her knees as she picked her up. With whatever strength she could muster, Lucy wrapped her arms tightly around Ellie’s neck. She tucked her face into Ellie’s chest to block out the harsh light that made her head throb.

Lucy was conscious enough to keep herself upright, but otherwise everything passed in a blur. She registered doors opening, strange voices, the sensation of being set down and picked back up again. Occasionally, Ellie would mumble something like, “Hey, stay with me, okay?” or, “Almost out, just a little further.”

Eventually, everything faded to quiet. Lucy felt herself being laid on the ground, head propped up on something soft and solid. She managed to open her eyes, and was met not with the harsh fluorescence of before, but with soft morning light peeking through a leafy canopy. Above her, she watched as Ellie smiled softly down at her. Lucy’s head was in Ellie’s lap, and Ellie gently brushed stringy pieces of hair out of her face.

“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you,” Ellie said. “We’re safe, for now. You can rest if you need to.”

Grateful for the invitation, Lucy didn’t fight it this time as she slipped back into unconsciousness.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #lazarus is risen // ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou #tlou2

[zgatotoon]

I need more excuses for Tsukasa tenma as a princess so I’m coming with the most cliche one for future drawings reference before I forget about it!.

Summary: is the time of the year where every class has to do an activity for the school festival, and this time, Tsukasa’s class was doing (again) a play.

But this time, it a play written by someone else (a classmate), with each roles being randomized so that everyone has the equal change to be part of the activity, whether it’s being a character in the play or helping in the background with utensils and so on.

The story it’s like this: the princess from a forgotten kingdom doesn’t want to feel sad anymore, tired of the greyish and sadness of his fathers kingdom, they want to see the world! And when on a rainy night a fairy grants them the wish to go and see the world and it’s colors for a day, the princess find themself involved in an adventure where they learn to let go of saddens and welcomes the happiness in their heart, with the help of the animals of the forest, a sweet florist and the neighboring town. They will return to their kingdom having learned what’s it feels to be happy with the brightest smile in their face, wanting to share that happiness with their kingdom and their father.

“There’s more in this life than feeling lonely and sad, just look at the horizon, those tender and warm colors are the proof of it”

It’s a simple story for a simple school play.

And just as random as the choices of each roles were.

Tsukasa tenma ended up being nothing less than the protagonist of this lovely story!

The princess

And he wasn't not expecting that at all.

Dont get him wrong, being the main character of a play is always nothing but an honor to him! A star duty as he may say.

But this is new for him, not only because he has to do a character who's learning to feel happiness

(which us not much of a problem but still)

But because he has to do the princess. Princess.

He knew his troupe and friends were going to make fun of him but he would not hide the hardworking of his classmates into this play just because he felt a little embarrassed, that's not what stars do.

so instead!

He told everyone about the play his class was going to do.

But didn't tell anyone what he was doing for the play.

So you can imagine the surprise in people's faces when They saw no one but Tsukasa Tenma himself, in a black gray dress and a sad face in what was the stage.

#pjsk #fanfic idea #doodle idea #my head hurts

[legendary-defender-of-fandoms]

Pros of seeing Beetlejuice by myself either before or after seeing it with my family:

My sister in particular hates seeing stuff live with me because I get too invested. Idk if I clap & cheer too loud, or whisper too much about the stuff I like as the show is going on, or if it’s just a Me Being Her Annoying Little Sister thing, but it always feels like her agreeing to be seen in public with me is a huge sacrifice on her part. If I see the show by myself, I can have one Core Memory of enjoying the production without worrying about embarrassing her.

My brother’s being a bit of a sad sack right now, and God knows how long his moping will last (long, stupid story not worth recounting). Hopefully he’ll be better by June, but I’m not holding my breath. Again, seeing the show by myself means I’ll have one memory of it being just me & the Bug Man (and a few hundred strangers).

My relationship with my dad is . . . complicated. He said yes to seeing the show, but I think it’s because he had nothing else going on that night. He doesn’t have the ambition to reach out & ask others if they want to hang out, and I got tired of always initiating. And it might be kind of awkward watching Charles & Lydia go through THEIR complicated relationship while my dad is right there.

Our seats for the show aren’t the best in the house. We’re way in the back next to the sound booth. Good shot of center stage, I’m sure we’ll see everything that happens. But I wish I’d bought the tickets sooner so I could be in one of the Audience Interaction Zones. If I’m gonna be the only weirdo saying “AWWWWWW” while the rest of the audience is laughing at Beetlejuice’s abandonment issues, I want to be HEARD, God damnit!

Stinky lonely pansexual bug man make brain go brrrrr.

Cons of seeing Beetlejuice by myself either before or after seeing it with my family:

Money. I think tickets are a little over $100 a pop. I make enough money to make it fine to spend almost $500 on tickets to see a show with 3 others, and I can definitely swing an extra ticket to see it by myself. It’s more the principle of the thing. Is it WORTH spending an extra $100 to see the same show twice? (The part of my brain that’s hyperfixating on Beetlejuice is screaming “HELL FUCKING YEAH!!!”, but the practical side of my brain is annoying & whispering “you have bills to pay, your cats need to go to the vet, what if you lose your job even though you have crazy stupid job security”)

Availability. If I decide to see the show by myself, I have to decide NOW because tickets went crazy fast (or maybe they went super slow but were available for ages & I didn’t know because I just got bit by the BeetleBug last month). I was lucky to find four seats together for the show I’m already booked for. Finding one seat by myself won’t be quite as hard, but they might be gone by June.

My family will judge me. Not really a con, more of a fact of life. They already judge me for the rest of my “personality quirks” (aka my problems that they’re already aware of). Does it really matter if they have yet another reason to give me the side-eye at holiday gatherings or complain about me to friends, coworkers, and the rest of the family? I can think of at least one company of performers who would say life is WAY too short to deny myself simple pleasures.

Pathetic as it is, I DO have a life. Sort of. I don’t want to be dead on my feet at work or when I’m supposed to be taking care of my niece, and I don’t have the time to spare for the matinee. Or maybe I do - I probably won’t know until it’s too late to get my ticket.

I have no idea how long this brain rot is going to last. It’s burning hot & bright right now, but it could burn itself out before I see the show in person. It seems unlikely, but there’s still a risk.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #poll #please send help #I am unwell #bjtm #bjtmtmtm

[berryhobii]

Thread(pjm x reader) Prologue

Pairing: Ares!Park Jimin x Goddess!Black!Female Reader, Reincarnation AU, Greek Mythology AU

Synopsis: You were his oasis where the water never ran dry. He was the garden where blooms shone like diamonds. His lips were of the sweetest ambrosia that made you forget your sour past, your embrace a blanket that shielded him from the nightmare that was his life. Your souls were safe in the hands of one another. Nothing could ever separate you, the daisy chain you’ve woven entwining your fate and destinies until the end of time.

Even when the blade cuts the vine and the petals fall into the fire, he will always find you.

A/N: Hi!! I’m back with the prologue for my first ever mini series! This is the GreekGod!Jimin story I was talking about a little while ago. I actually changed the story a lot after new inspiration struck me. A new detail that I hope a lot of people will like is that reader has Vitiligo. I was inspired by this woman I saw the other day. She was so beautiful and poised and she told me that she absolutely loves BTS after seeing my RJ bag charm. So this is dedicated to her! I also hope my reader’s with vitiligo like this! I tried to describe reader’s skin as beautifully and respectfully as possible. I even asked an old coworker of mine how he would describe his wife who also has vitiligo. I’m always open to criticism though and if anyone is offended, please let me know. I’ll be posting the first chapter along with my Taehyung x NudeModel!Reader story as well by the end of the day. Hope you guys enjoy!

~

“Please! I’m begging you! Don’t do this!”

“Ares, for treason and insubordination, I sentence you to death.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, gorgeous face twisted in anguish. He hated to see you cry. Your tears should never fall, not for him and not for others.

This was all his fault. Your grief and distress were due to him. He broke the promise he made to you all those centuries ago. He promised he’d never make you sad, to always fill your days with his love and joy, to walk beside you until the day the world ends.

He was such a fool.

And as he knelt on the floor, body sore from battle and ears ringing from the thundering boom of the God above him, all he could focus on was you. Even in tears, you were the most beautiful goddess he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

Before he met you, his life was lackluster, monotone…..lonely. Days spent bathed in the blood of the fallen, his blade his only companion, the screams of the wounded his only friend. He didn’t care for anything else except fulfilling his duty and satisfying his bloodlust.

Then he stumbled across a cool stream, the sound of the rushing water doing nothing drown out the noises in his head. The most it could do was quench his thirst and clean his bloodied cape. After he had his fill and had less than successfully cleaned a little blood out of his cape, he draped it over a rock before plopping down on the grass with a huff. He was so tired. He just wanted to close his eyes for a bit.

The sound of singing startled him, his body immediately going into attack mode. He unsheathed his sword with practiced grace, ready to slice down any threat.

But there was none.

There was only you sitting at the edge of the stream, a small sewing kit in your lap, your hands working on what he recognized as his cape.

He didn’t know how to process what was happening, his brain still moving a little slowly from his short nap. Where did you come from? When did you get here? His instincts were always on guard. He should have heard you coming.

Why…..?

Your singing suddenly stopped. You lifted the cape up, surveying the now patched tear to make sure it looked nice. After humming to yourself in content, you turned to face him and the sight of your face almost made him fall to his knees.

You were positively ethereal.

Your robes were a light pink color, the delicate fabric wrapped around your body flowed around you as if the wind followed you, desperate to grace your skin. Your clothing allowed him to appreciate the beauty of your lustrous skin—an expanse of dark brown with lighter spots that looked like paint splotches on your divine canvas. But each one was placed so carefully, as if whatever God that sculpted you had intentionally taken their passion out on your already lavish complexion. Eyes kind and gentle, and your hair full and huge with flowers and butterflies decorating it.

“Oh, you’re awake? You’ve been sleeping for a couple hours. I can only imagine how tired you must have been.”

Hours? That was impossible! He didn’t sleep that long. And certainly not when he wasn’t in the safety of his home. Even then, he was lucky to get 4 hours before waking from the nightmares.

How had you managed to sneak up on him?

Realizing he had yet to respond to you, he said, “who are you? Where did you come from?”

You didn’t falter at his hostility or harsh tone. You had just shown up and started touching his belongings. You’d be defensive too.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you. I came to be alone but then I saw your torn cape and thought I’d mend it for you.” You stood to your feet, dusting off your robes before folding his cape. “Here you are. It was torn in a weird place so the stitch is noticeable but you can still wear it.”

He hesitated for a moment but he didn’t feel like you were a threat so he lowered his weapon. You noticed how he didn’t sheath it again but said nothing.

He shuffled closer to you, keeping his eyes on your hands. Once he was close enough, he grabbed the cape from you before backing away again.

“Well, I’ll leave you be. Try not to tear it again, okay? It’s such a beautiful cape.” Your smile was soft but so inviting. It made his heart stutter, a block forming in his throat at your gaze. Why did you look at him that way?

And then you left him there, a weird feeling settling over him at your absence. He shook it off.

He sheathed his weapon, holding his cape with both hands. It was still covered in blood and a little damp.

He found the spot where the tear had once been, only to find it closed and bound tight by a bright pink string. It stood out as stark as day against the grey fabric. He ran his fingers over the stitch, a gasp coming from his throat when a sudden surge of emotion struck him.

And he still felt that as he watched you fall to your knees, screaming his name and pleading for his retribution.

Yearning.

He yearned for your touch right now, for you to hold him tightly in your arms like you never wanted to let him go. He yearned for your smile, your laughter, your affection, your kiss.

He yearned for you. He loved you. He adored you.

“Jimin! No! Please!”

The blade lifted, a glint shining on its sharp edge but he wasn’t afraid. He didn’t even focus on the person holding the weapon. All he could see was you.

His eyes squinted in the adorable way they did when he smiled, his teeth showing themselves, including the slightly crooked one you loved so much. You loved him so much.

“I love you, my oasis.”

#bts #bts fic #jimin x reader #black reader #bts imagines #bts x black reader

[custardcrazy]

Honeysuckle

pairing: Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

warnings: s4 vol 2 spoilers, language, minor description of injuries. eddie did not die, guys! (also i have little to no clue how hospital mail works. let alone in the 80′s, so forgive me for any inaccuracies) 

summary: Eddie writes you a short letter from the hospital. It’s kind of cheesy.

It arrived in your mailbox, maybe a day or two after Eddie was admitted to the hospital. A pressed white envelope, with your address on the front. Holding it up to your face, it smelled like new books and hand sanitizer. 

You were still recovering from the events that had happened a few days prior. And so was everyone else, to an extent. Steve and Robin had dropped by a few times, and you were glad to see them, glad to see that they were holding up alright. 

Though you and basically everyone else had tried to see Eddie, you were merely informed that he was alright; You just weren’t allowed to see him, not yet- and that caused you considerable frustration. But you were still really glad that he was okay. 

But, now -- your heart hammered as you lowered your hands away from your face, looking down at the envelope. 

The moment you entered your kitchen, you pretty much tore it open; Still taking care as to not actually damage the paper within it, but your patience couldn’t hold out for long. The tattered envelope itself was thrown carelessly onto the counter, as you unfolded the actual letter with shaky hands. 

The image on the top left corner of the paper displayed proudly the logo and name of the hospital Eddie was in. 

The rest of it was filled with the chicken scratch that you knew as Eddie’s handwriting, scrawled in pen. If it could even be called handwriting. 

Your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t even bother sitting down at the counter, beginning to skim the badly formatted paragraphs as fast as you could, without pause...

--

Hey, sweets!

Dunno how long this letter’s gonna take to get to you. But I think I’m going to be here for at least a few days so I’m not that worried. Everything’s okay. I’m gonna have some scars after this is over for sure. That’s what my doctor tells me. He seems like a cool dude. 

Anyway, I just wanna tell you that I miss you lots. The food here is ass. Doing normal tasks borders on life-threatening dangerous cause of my injuries. Even writing this is wearing me out a little. Thankfully I just lost enough blood to leave me tired and not dead. And I’ll gladly suffer through this part of the healing process if that means I can see you and everyone else again. I saw my uncle shortly after I woke up. We both cried a lot. It was annoying cause I couldn’t really wipe off my face. But I wasn’t really thinking about that at the time. Just about how glad I was to see him. 

It’s kind of funny how near death makes you revalluate think about your life all over again. I’ve had a looot of time to think. About me. About school. About what really matters to me. And about how I’m gonna see if I can get that bat tatoo removed when I’m back to normal. 

But on the topic of what matters to me, I think the thing I was most scared about while en route to the hospital was you. I know this is really fucking cheesy but you’re probably the best thing that’s happened to me. I didn’t want to think about my funeral and how you would react to my death. But it seemed like a very real senario scenario because I was slowly bleeding out. And it was absolutely fucking terrifying. I hate seeing you cry. I hate seeing you sad in general. It makes me feel like I’ve been a bad boyfriend because I really want to make you happy. And if I died I wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. Hell, I would forcefully come back from the dead like a motherfucking zombie if that I meant that I could make you smile again. 

Listen, the second that I can I’m getting outta here and coming to you. Doc says it’ll be a little while but I can wait. I wanna see Dustin and Steve and well, everyone else. I’m so goddamn lonely! If you can, please write back. I miss you so fucking much. That sounds dramatic but it’s the truth. 

I also miss my guitar. I miss listening to my music. I miss actually good food. And I miss all the guys from the Hellfire Club. I wonder if they heard about my current situation. I’m kinda divided whether or not I want them to know about my hospitilized bedridden state because I don’t want them to worry too much about it. They’re good guys. 

I doubt the majority of the town would like to know that I’m alive. Fuck them though. Fuck it all. I’m alive and that’s what fucking matters in the end. 

Look. If I could write twenty thousand pages of letters to you I would. If I could I would write millions of letters to you. But my hand is cramping up right now and I think I need to sleep because I haven’t got much rest over the past day or two. 

Again, please write back. I miss you. I miss your smile and your laugh and your hugs n kisses and everything. I love you so much. You make me feel alive. 

Love you lots,

Eddie 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x gn!reader #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n