#hopin i hit lucky tomorrow

[comic-book-jawns]

But the tigers come at night

Dani didn’t usually wake up in the middle of the night — not anymore, not when she was holding Jamie. But as it turned out, she wasn’t.

Dani opened her eyes to find the spot to her left empty. She pushed herself up onto her forearm and rubbed her eyes. It was 2:30 a.m. according to the alarm on their nightstand. She sat up fully now to scan their motel room. No light seeping out under the bathroom door. No sign of her.

Just as Dani was starting to panic, she heard mumbling to her left. She whipped her head over. Still nothing. And then it hit her. She inched to the edge of the bed and looked down. There was Jamie: sleeping fitfully on the floor with a raggedy blanket and absurdly flat pillow she must’ve taken from the closet. As Dani watched, Jamie’s shaking worsened, and she started crying out.

Dani immediately hopped down and knelt beside her, cupping her face, which was beaded with sweat.

“Jamie... Jamie!”

Jamie began jerking so violently Dani could barely hold on.

“JAMIE!”

That got her attention. But Jamie wasn’t out of the woods. Eyes open, but darting around frantically, she started hyperventilating and immediately scrambled away from Dani, surveying the room.

“Jamie, it’s me!”

Dani turned away for a moment to fumble with the lamp on the nightstand. When she turned back around Jamie was sitting against the door to their room. She instinctively shut her eyes and threw a hand up to shield them from the sudden illumination. Dani, blinking herself as her eyes adjusted, rushed over.

Crouching down in front of her, she gently took Jamie’s free hand in both of hers and started massaging it.

“It’s me, honey,” Dani said, softly. “It’s me.”

Jamie, still breathing heavily but more evenly now, slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times. Taking Dani in, she lowered her other hand after a moment.

Dani could see now that Jamie’s hair was also slick with sweat, some curls sticking to her face, and her shirt was almost soaked through. Clearly, she had been in this state for a while before Dani had noticed. Dani went to speak, but Jamie took the words right out of her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

With that, Jamie slipped out of Dani’s grasp, sliding against the door to stand up, then shakily walked past her, heading for the bathroom. Turning around, Dani went to call after her but then hesitated. She’d never seen Jamie like this. Maybe Jamie did actually need some space. As if on cue, Dani heard her turn on water for a shower. Well, that made sense. She probably wanted to wash up.

But after two minutes, Dani could take the torture no longer and knocked on the door.

“You okay?”

No reply. Jamie probably hadn’t even heard her, which was probably for the best. It was a stupid question. Of course, she wasn’t okay. She would check in again when Jamie was done, when she was ready. But just as Dani was turning away, she heard the water shut off.

“Come in,” said an uncharacteristically small voice.

Dani slowly opened the door to find Jamie almost exactly as she’d last seen her: sat down hugging her knees to her chest. The shower curtain was drawn back, but evidently Jamie hadn’t actually gone in at all. When Jamie looked up at her, Dani could see why.

Her eyes were calmer but now red-rimmed. She’d turned the water on, not for her benefit, but for Dani’s. Jamie looked back down a second later and wiped her nose with the collar of her T-shirt.

“I guess I should’a known that wouldn’t work on you.”

She laughed shakily. Dani closed the door behind her and slowly sat down beside Jamie against the tub. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she knew barraging Jamie would only make her shut down. So, she waited once more.

“I’m sorry.”

Dani turned to look at her.

“Hey, you have nothing - “

“Told ya I could sleep through the night.”

For a moment, Dani came up blank. And then she remembered that night in the hallway, before...

“It... it wasn’t the whole truth... ”

Dani could see Jamie tensing up again.

“You don’t have to - ”

“No, I do.”

Jamie finally turned to look at her again.

“I should’ve... you have a right to know. I’d just been hopin’ that - ”

Jamie cleared her throat and looked away.

“That it wouldn’t happen anymore if I was here.”

Jamie tilted her head down, until she was staring at the floor, then nodded. Dani sighed.

“I’m so sorry.”

Jamie whipped her head back up and turned to Dani, taking her hand.

“No, no, please don’t! It’s not your - ”

“That’s not why I said I was sorry.”

Jamie looked at her curiously. Dani took Jamie’s other hand, then faced forward.

“I haven’t slept well for most of my life. Constant anxiety dreams when I was a kid. My mother learned to tune me out pretty quickly.”

Dani felt Jamie squeeze her hands. She smiled slightly.

“Eddie and his mother, they would... they would come rushing every time, but that was... almost worst.”

Dani turned to Jamie.

“They meant well, of course. But I always felt like I had to... to reassure them. It was exhausting.”

Dani could see in Jamie’s eyes that her story was hitting home. She faced forward again.

“By the time Eddie and I... I’d learned to hide it pretty well, never woke him up.”

Dani took a shaky breath. Jamie squeezed her hands again.

“But after... I would get 3-4 hours, if I was lucky. And that was if I even tried to sleep.”

Dani turned back to Jamie.

“But then, something changed.”

Dani smiled, waiting for Jamie to take the hint. She was about to spell it out when Jamie finally understood.

“Oh.”

Jamie started to smile, despite herself.

“Yeah, you... you did that for me. And I want to do it for you... but you have to let me.”

Jamie’s smile faded. She let go of Dani’s hands and looked away, clearing her throat.

“You need your sleep, especially... ”

Dani knew what she wasn’t saying. And yet, she couldn’t help but laugh. Jamie looked back at her in alarm.

“Jamie, what did I just say?”

Dani could see she was hopelessly lost.

“I need you with me, nightmares or not... otherwise, I won’t sleep well, either.”

Dani could see the gears turning now. It was making sense to Jamie, whether she wanted to accept it or not. Jamie faced forward again. After a few moments, she took a deep breath. Then, she stood up, turned to look back and offered her hand to Dani. Dani smiled proudly, making Jamie smile shyly, and took her hand.

Jamie led them back to the bed, stopping by the left side, the one closer to the bathroom, and gestured for Dani to climb in first. Dani cocked her head but complied nonetheless. Jamie followed behind her, taking Dani’s usual spot. She threw her right arm and leg across Dani and rested her head on Dani’s chest.

She felt Dani place one arm on top of hers and her other arm around her shoulder. She felt Dani’s hand get tangled in her hair, cradling her head. She felt Dani kiss the top of her head, then lie back.

Now, Jamie would have to break free enough to turn around if she started feeling the urge to retreat into the bathroom, or she would have to break free enough to climb over Dani to sleep on the floor where she’d been — either way, negating her aim of not disturbing Dani.

If she felt it coming on again... when she felt it coming on again — tonight, tomorrow, whenever — she would stay. She would ride it out, and Dani would ride it out with her.

#dani x jamie #jamie x dani #damie fanfic #damie fic #bly manor fic #bly manor fanfic #thobm fic #thobm fanfic #the haunting of bly manor #bly manor #thobm #dani clayton #jamie clayton #dani bly manor #jamie bly manor #jamie the haunting of bly manor #jamie taylor #jamie the gardener #thobm jamie #jamie thobm #thobm dani #dani thobm #wlw fic #wlw fanfic #lgbtq fanfiction #f/f fanfic #f/f fic

[amysmarch]

~how i’m feeling~ | rp sentence starter

drugs & the internet

“another life, another story, ( she ) walked out, said i was boring.” 

“shit, i said i'm never trying.“

“'til the bitter end, but every now and then, i wonder what it feels like to be more than i am.”

“i traded all my friends for drugs and the internet.“

“ah shit, am i a winner yet?“

“and i don't wanna base my actions, on reactions or the things they say.”

“so now i'm laying in my bed, and i can't get out my head.”

fuck, i’m lonely

“call you one time, two time, three time, i can't wait no more.”

“i know its been a minute since you walked right through that door, but i still think about you all the time.” 

“i don't know, i don't know how i'm gonna make it out.”

“fuck, i'm lonely.”

“fuck, come hold me.”

“yeah i still watch the shows you showed me, i still drink that wine but these days it tastes more bitter than sweet.”

“and all my friends are way too drunk to save me from my phone, so sorry if i say some things i mean.”

“miss those nights when you would come over, spent all night just tryin' to get closer.”

lonely eyes

“i don't mean to be rude, there's things in myself that i see in you.”

“she had those lonely eyes, i only know 'cause i have them too.”

“no, you don't have to hide, the things you feel inside, i feel too.”

“'cause i'm lonely just like you.“

“we might speak different languages, and we might have differences. but where you are, i'm right there too.”

“stay the night, stay the week.“

“when you're gone, i don't sleep.”

“when you're gone, i feel weak.“

sims

“i wish that you and i lived in the sims.”

“we could build a house and plant some flowers and have kids.”

“i'll probably never see you again.”

“i wish that we lived on a vhs. i’d erase the things i said and that i'll probably say again, hit rewind on all the times i got lost in my head.”

“goddamn, i wish we would've met on another night, baby.”

“i wish that we met walkin' round the moma.” 

“yeah, i'd say nice to meet you, 'stead of saying nice to know you.”

“i'd try to impress you with some bullshit 'bout monet.”

believed

“almost got a place out in midtown, instead i took a plane out of this town.“

“wasted, and all of my regret, i can taste it. if i had a time machine i would take it and make it back to us.”

“now i'm reminiscing 'round the clock, wish that i could make it stop.”

“shoulda believed in us, while we existed. 'cause now the whole thing's fucked, and just a figment of my imagination.” 

“and i wish i would've been patient, instead i let in all the emotions.”

billy

“nobody told ( him ) the world was mean.”

“nobody thought ( he ) could amount to anything.” 

feelings

“is my love too much, or is it just enough, for you?”

“'cause it's getting late, would you like to stay?”

“we could cross that line, know we've been friends.”

“and love only knows broken ends. yeah, that's what you said.”

“'cause feelings are hard to find.“

canada

“waking up in your bed, it's almost like i've been here forever.”

“i'm obsessed with your brain.”

“what if we move to canada?“

“buy some things we don't need, bring your mother's dog, your paintbrush and some candy.”

“how you talk with your hands, and how you sigh like a movie.”

“and we got luck so bad, we have to laugh. i guess we're lucky that, we don't need much outside of us, do we?“

“and when they talk about those, people who up and leave? that could be us.” 

for now

“i keep you right here in my brain, even when we're waking up in different cities.” 

“i know it's hard to feel so close to someone that's so far away.“

“for now, i'll love you through the phone.”

“for now, our friends will fill this home.” 

“in the shadow of the moon, found the memory of that night we were in portland.”

“the moment i told you, that no matter where we are, you're still my best friend.”

“and if i had a candle i would wish you back to me.”

mean it

“i can't tell what you're thinkin', please tell me what you're thinkin'.” 

“but you text me when you feel like, when it feels right to you.” 

“i'm fallin' faster.” 

“don't tell me that you need me.” 

“don't tell me you're falling, with your feet still on the ledge.”

“don't kiss me, no, don't kiss me.”

“you know you got me in the palm of your hand, but i love those hands.”

“but you only let me hold you when ( he ) can't.”

“you've been staring at me with a heart of doubt.”

tell my mama

“i been thinking that life's too short, so many friends got their life cut short.” 

“now i'm standing here doing lines in the bathroom.”

“i hate myself.”

“i been hiding pain, it's underneath.”

“and i been up so long i'm scared to sleep.”

“tell my mama that i love her, and i'm sorry for the pain.“

“and everybody says that i've been manic. i think they might be right, but i still manage.”

“lately, i been so annoyed. ‘cause they think that i'm just paranoid.”

sweatpants

“coffee with a little bit of alcohol.”

“oh no, no, don't judge me, just 'cause i do anything to get by.”

“said you don't wanna know who i am anymore, you don't care anymore. yeah, i can't really blame you.” 

“and i don't wanna know, who you're with when you leave.” 

“swear i still feel you on my skin.”

“i really miss you.”

“but, baby, that's not the issue, the issue is coming back.” 

“we've been through this, we both know. we'll fight, fuck then let it go.“

who

“sometimes, i swear i think you hate me like.”

“i need to get outta here.”

“'cause you're not the ( girl ) i fell in love with, baby.” 

“'cause something has changed, you're not the same, i hate it.”

“feelin' hypnotized by the words that you said.”

i’m so tired...

“i'm so tired of love songs.”

“party, trying my best to meet somebody. but everybody around me is falling in love to our song.” 

“strangers, killing my lonely nights with strangers.”

“hurts like heaven, lost in the sound.”

“buzzcut season like you're still around.”

“can't unmiss you and i need you now.”

el tejano

“i met a ( girl ) at el tejano.“

“i'm from wherever you're going tonight."

“i always find myself in random situations.“

“do you wanna have a little bit of fun tonight?“

tattoos together

“i'd never fall but then i fell for you.“

“one weekend in portland, you weren't even my ( girl )friend. we were walkin' and talkin' then somebody said, let's get tattoos together.” 

“if it's way too soon, fuck it, whatever.”

“if it's not forever, then at least we'll have tattoos together.”

“'cause i love you.”

“knew it from the moment, from the moment that i saw you naked, could never love nobody else, the way i loved you baby.” 

“yeah, your cherry earrings are my favourite.“

“i've been hopin', prayin' we last forever, 'cause there's nothing better than you and i.” 

changes

“i'm getting rid of all my clothes i don't wear, i think i'm gonna cut my hair cause these days i don't feel like me.”

“i think i'm gonna take a break from alcohol, probably won't last that long, but lord knows i could use some sleep.”

“changes. they might drive you half insane but it's killing you to stay the same.” 

“living with your eyes half open.”

“it's all gonna work out.” 

“i think I'm gonna take some pills to fix my brain, i've tried it every other way. some things you can't fix yourself.”

sad forever

“life feels like a daydream.”

“voices always keeping me up, telling me that i should give up.”

“'cause lately i've been in the backseat to my own life.” 

“i don't wanna be sad forever.”

“i don't wanna wake up and wonder, what the hell am i doing this for?”

“i'll make it through to tomorrow, 'cause that's all i can do today.” 

invisible things

“do you still remember the way that we felt when we were kids?“

“yeah, we built castles out of couches. felt fire without matches.” 

“made promises without fear of getting burned.”

“we think happy is expensive.”

“it's the invisible things that i, that i love the most.”

“so let me hold you close.”

julia

“when we met i wasn't me, i was so numb.” 

“i was so lonely.”

“out on the run i wasn't free, and you came along but you couldn't save me.”

“my hesitation and holding my breath, i led you in to the garden of my loneliness.”

“wish that you left, before it all burned down.”

“i'm sorry what i do to you.”

“i push and pull and mess with your head, then get in your bed 'cause i'm weak, deep down.” 

“i wish i never lied to you.”

“i never meant to hurt you like that, and if i could go back i'd leave you alone.”

“when i left, i wasn't sure that i could love.“

“i won't lie to you no more, 'cause i know i did before hope you find what you looking for.” 

modern loneliness

“i've been thinkin' 'bout my father lately, the person that he made me, the person i've become.” 

“and i've been tryna fill all of this empty. but, fuck, i'm still so empty.”

“yeah, i could use some love.”

“i've been trying to find a reason to get up.”

“the baggage in my heart is still so dark.”

“modern loneliness. we're never alone, but always depressed.” 

“love my friends to death, but i never call and i never text 'em.”

“yeah, you get what you give and you give what you get.”

“we love to get high, but we don't know how to come down.”

“if i could break my dna to pieces, rid of all my demons.”

“if i could cleanse my soul, then i could fill the world with all my problems.”

“we're never alone, but always depressed.”

#rpt #rph #rpc #rp meme #sentence meme #starter meme #billy was hard to do sentence memes im SORRY #if you have any requests for albums / songs / movies / tv shows feel free to send them #resources #pls reblog this i worked so hard #dfgjhdfgd #long post

[astralshipper]

Late Night, Early Morning - Scout x Lúcio

HI OKAY I ABSOLUTELY SHOULDVE HAD THIS UP BEFORE I WENT APE SHIT OFF THE WALLS INACTIVE AND I APOLOGIZE SO SO MUCH PLEASE SEND SCOUT ALL THE LOVE FOR PUTTING UP WITH MY DUMB ASS NOT SENDING SHIT, HES THE BEST AND SO FUCKIN PATIENT AND FAIR MORE PATIENT THAN HE SHOULD HAVE TO BE AND I AM VERY SORRY!! 

Pairing: Scout ( @kittyselfships​ ) x Lúcio

Word count: 1,705 (this is so short im so sorry wtf skdjfg)

Plot: Lúcio has been gone on a mission for quite some time. When he says he’s coming home, Scout insists on staying awake to greet him. That is, until Lúcio finds him asleep on the couch. 

-

The mission wasn’t supposed to take as long as it had. Lúcio missed his partner more than anything, and being apart from him for so long always hurt. Thus, he found himself bouncing on his heels a bit more than usual with each step when the day finally came to go back home. 

It was already late at night. The sun had gone down hours prior, and in all reality, it had been “tomorrow” for longer than Lúcio cared to admit. The DJ held his phone in his hand as he walked, a bag slung over his opposite shoulder. His eyes flickered back and forth between the path in front of him and the words on his phone screen.

Despite Lúcio’s repeated warnings of how late he would be getting back home, Scout insisted that he would stay up until he got home. As much as Lúcio appreciated the sentiment, he still worried that the love of his life wouldn’t be getting enough sleep. Scout was always such a kind and giving person, and that was something Lúcio adored about him. At the same time, however, he often worried when this came to the detriment of Scout’s own self. 

By the time he made it to the familiar home, he was already bouncing foot to foot with the excitement of being able to hold Scout in his arms again. Lúcio made his way up to the door and whipped out his key, nimbly unlocking it and swinging the door open. He grabbed the door handle just before it could slam into the wall on the other side, worrying that such a loud noise would frighten his love so late at night.

“Scout?” He called into the dark abode. The door shut with a click behind him, and once he had locked it once more, he made his way deeper into the home. Everything seemed to be silent, not a sign of movement or activity anywhere that he could find. Once he made his way into the sitting area, he realized why that was.

A soft, adoring smile bloomed on Lúcio’s lips at the sight of Scout curled up on the couch, fast asleep. His phone was still clutched in his hand that hung off the couch and dangled over the rug beneath him. His other arm was tucked up against his chest and under his chin. It was clear that he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, seeing the lack of a blanket and the awkward positioning, and Lúcio couldn’t help but feel an extra sense of affection and admiration for his love fueled efforts. 

Silently, Lúcio stepped out of the room and made his way to their bedroom, where he quickly tucked away his bag and prepared the bed as comfortably as possible. Scout would need it after sleeping on the couch like that, he thought to himself. He shook his head with a smile, chuckling under his breath at his husband’s antics. He would never get tired of life with Scout by his side, and that was already clear in their marriage. It was a decision he knew he could never possibly grow to regret. Every day with him was another reminder of that same idea.

Once the bed was set to his liking - or, more accurately, the formation of pillows and blankets that Scout liked best and seemed to work best for cuddling purposes - he padded back out to the sitting room. Scout hadn’t moved an inch in the time he had been gone, so Lúcio slowly tugged the phone from his grip and slipped it into his back pocket before scooping his husband up in his arms. Scout let out soft murmurs in his sleep and curled closer to Lúcio’s chest, and he couldn’t help but press a kiss to his sleeping love’s head in response. 

He carried Scout through the house and into the bedroom, where he put him down on the bed as carefully as possible in an attempt not to wake him. He pulled the sheets up before making his way to the other side of the bed and kicking off his shoes so he could slip underneath the covers as well. His arm wrapped around Scout’s form and pulled him into his side, and the smaller of the pair instantly shuffled to almost instinctively curl up in their usual formation. Lúcio’s heart swelled at the sight, and he ran his fingers through his husband’s hair in a show of affection.

Scout took in a deep breath, humming a bit before blinking his eyes open. When the situation finally registered in his mind, his eyes widened and he tried to bolt upright in bed. Lúcio’s arm around him made this impossible, meaning he only raised up a few inches before hitting a snag. “Lúcio!” He cried out in a shocked, groggy tone. He continued to blink the sleep from his eyes and scrubbed at them with the heels of his hands. “I’m so sorry, I wanted to be awake when you got back, I know I told you I would be. I’m really sorry, I kinda ruined the whole welcome home plan, huh?” He rattled on, and Lúcio shook his head quickly in response.

“Hey, Scout, don’t worry about it! You know I’m not worried about all that. I was actually hopin’ you would get some sleep. I don’t want you throwin’ off your sleep schedule for me.” He grinned and trailed his left hand down to grab Scout’s own left hand, lacing their fingers together with a fond gaze. “Ya know, I’m lucky to have you. I don’t know how I got you, like, I don’t know what kinda great thing I did to deserve you in my life, but I’m definitely not gonna be letting you go. Even if you do refuse to go to bed sometimes,” he teased towards the end, causing Scout to huff in amused annoyance.

“Oh, hush, already. You love me and you know it.”

The teasing grin on Lúcio’s face instantly faded into a look of utter adoration. His eyes practically sparkled with all of the wonder and awe he felt towards the person in front of him. The look was so sudden and so soft, so different from the upbeat, bubbly Lúcio that had been in his place moments prior that Scout almost got the wind knocked out of him at the sight. “You know I do. More than anything. And this,” he paused to hold up their intertwined left hands, “means a whole lot more than just some little piece of paper. Looks like you’re stuck with me, huh?”

Scout smiled back at him and leaned forward, planting a quick kiss to the tip of Lúcio’s nose. “You’re the one stuck with me and we both know it.”

“Nah, absolutely not!” Lúcio protested, tugging him closer so he could bump noses with him. “I’ve got the cutest, kindest, funniest, most giving, most patient, most amazing husband in this world, and there is nothing that could make me feel any different. You better be careful, ‘cause you know I’ll write you a bunch of love songs to remind you how great you are, right?”

Scout laughed and untwined their fingers so he could hold onto Lúcio’s hand and trail his fingers over the back of it. Lúcio watched him intently. “You act like that’s a punishment, when I can promise you, it’s not.”

Lúcio hummed in amusement and, after a moment’s silence, turned his hand around so he could grab onto Scout’s once again, this time tugging it to his lips and placing a kiss on his ring finger, where the band signifying their union lie. “I’ll take your word for it and do it anyways, you deserve love songs anyways. Now, really, you need to get some sleep. We can catch up tomorrow.” He pressed his lips to Scout’s in a loving kiss, the first one they had shared since he left. It felt right. It felt like that was where they were meant to be. He pulled away just enough to be able to speak. Their breaths still mingled and their foreheads touched together. Neither one wanted to be any further from the other than they had to be. “I’ve got nothing planned, and I just wanna spend that time with you, however you want. That sound alright?”

His husband nodded with no hesitation, and eagerly curled up into Lúcio’s side. The DJ reached a hand over to flick off the bedside lamp, and the peaceful silence settled over the pair once again. The mission had been a long one, and it had challenged Lúcio in more ways than one, but in that moment, laying with the love of his life and listening to his soft breaths as he drifted to sleep, none of that mattered anymore. What mattered was that he was home, and he was back where he belonged. 

The calm lulled them both into that dull state between sleep and consciousness. Lúcio let out a soft hum of contentment. With the small amount of conscious brain power he had remaining for the night, he knew he wanted to say one more thing before he fell into his slumber until morning. “I love you, Scout,” he murmured into the still night air. 

He worried momentarily that Scout hadn’t heard him, or that he had already fallen back to sleep, but not long after this thought crossed his mind, Scout’s sleepy voice came with a reply. “I love you too, Lúcio,” he spoke against the fabric of Lúcio’s shirt. His words were muffled slightly and there was a slight slur to his tone from his exhaustion, but the natural flow it gave off settled Lúcio into utter contentment. He loved with all of his heart, and he was loved in return. And at the end of the day, that’s all that truly mattered to him. 

The last thought on his mind before drifting off to sleep was of the future the pair might share, and how he truly couldn’t wait to see where life was going to bring him and his husband. No matter where they went, it would always be worth it with Scout by his side.

#self ship #astra writes #astra is a dumbass compilation 10 hour version #posting this before my hiatus end post bc this is infinitely more important and shouldve been posted months ago #kittyselfships #art and stars mutual #ik youve been offline recently so pls dont worry abt reading this too soon friend!! #its here whenever or if ever you want it!!

[anna-mator]

How to Draw a Toon - (In-Progress) Fandom: Warner Bros, Looney Tunes, Disney, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Animaniacs, Rating: M Categories: M/M Relationships: (eventual) Bugs/Daffy Warnings: Language, moderate violence, cartoon violence, racism, Additional tags: friends to lovers, mystery, adventure

<< FIRST CHAPTER | 

When the Warner’s alarm went off, it was always a race between the two brothers to see who’d turn it off first. If Yakko got lucky, he’d be the one to turn it off first. Otherwise, Wakko would simply use his trusty mallet. This morning, Yakko was able to jolt awake just in time to stop Wakko’s mallet from hammering down onto the alarm. He tossed it aside and then hit the snooze button.

Yakko sat up slowly, disturbing his younger siblings only slightly. Being between the two, he managed to worm his way out of their sleepy grasps and slide off of the bed. He smiled to himself, deciding to let them sleep in just a little longer.

After his morning-care routine, Yakko headed downstairs. Unsurprisingly, Bugs was already up and hovering over the stove. Knowing how jumpy Bugs was, Yakko announced himself. “Mornin’ Bugs...” he chimed.

Bugs turned around and gave Yakko a nod. “Good morning. You get your sibs up yet?” He asked.

“Eehh… I thought I’d let ‘em sleep in.” Yakko told him before moving to make himself a bowl of cereal.

“You spoil ‘em more than I do.” Bugs chuckled, turning back to the hot meal on the stove.

“I’m their big brother. I’m allowed.” Yakko said it before he could really stop it.

The two went deadly silent. It had been a year since he had taken them in, and Bugs still had no idea where he stood. Was he simply an acting mentor? Was he some kind of parental guardian? No one who was involved really knew. At some point in Bugs’ life, he remembered having decided against having kids. And yet, he took in the three without any hesitation.

Once Yakko made his cereal, he carried it over and sat down on a barstool chair under the kitchen island. He ate and watched Bugs prepare breakfast for the rest of them. Finally, Bugs broke the silence.

“Daffy is stayin’ wit’ us.” He mentioned.

Yakko swallowed, “Oh really? Why here? Couldn’t find himself a private island off the coast of Malibu?” He asked.

“Dat, I’m sure.” Bugs chuckled, “Also, I thought it’d be easier for us to work on school stuff. Dat and I figured it’d be nice to have some help around the house.”

“Oh right, your school.” Yakko remembered, “You sure you really want to hire Daffy as a teacher?” He asked.

“Why is everyone askin’ me dat?” Bugs felt slightly annoyed, “I brought Daffy on because he’s my friend. He’s great with kids and he’s been in this business for as long as I have. Longer, if you can believe it.” He defended.

Yakko wasn’t entirely convinced, still he nodded. “If you say so.” He said.

“You three were invited to the ribbon cuttin’ ceremony yesterday, by the way.” Bugs mentioned, shooting a glare at Yakko.

“Ooh… was that yesterday?” Yakko asked, pushing away his now empty cereal bowl. “Well, you know how it is sometimes. We all get so carried away on set and we end up home later than usual.”

“Uh-huh.” Bugs said, not quite sure he believed Yakko, “Ya mind waking up your kin? This is almost ready.” He said.

“I’m on it.” Yakko said, hopping down from his chair and making his way back upstairs.

When Yakko reached their bedroom, he saw Dot fully ready to go. Wakko, however, was still sound asleep and had taken over as much as he could of the California king-sized bed. After a solid few minutes of Yakko working to peel his sibling off of the bed, Wakko was up and able to start his routine.

Once they were all ready, the three came downstairs to see the kitchen table full of food. Dot eagerly sat down in a seat Bugs pulled out for her. Wakko raced to his seat at the table and began to pile his plate with the assortments of food. Once Yakko and Bugs sat down, Bugs turned to Wakko and Dot.

“I wanted to let you both know I invited Daffy to stay wit’ us.” Bugs told them, taking a bite of his breakfast.

At that, the two of them looked super pleased. “Hooray!” Wakko cheered before chowing down.

“That’s great! And for how long?” Dot asked curiously.

After hearing that, it only just occurred to Bugs that he had absolutely no long-term ideas concerning Daffy. Was he going to help him hunt for another estate? Daffy made it clear last night that the rent was ‘so damn high’, Bugs wasn’t sure Daffy was looking for a permanent stay. If he wanted to continue being a teacher, it was clear he would have to come up with some kind of living arrangement. While he was thinking along those lines, why did Daffy even agree to a teacher’s salary? Surely after all their royalty checks, he didn’t exactly need the extra income. Daffy’s motives were obviously very unclear to Bugs.

Bugs swallowed his food, “Eeehh… We’ll see.” He said carefully.

As if on cue, the three siblings caught sight of Daffy floating mid-air down the hallway, past the living room and into the closest seat at the kitchen table. Bugs had watched him and couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He took the act as a high compliment in regards to his cooking.

Daffy gave a smile and a small sigh when he opened his eyes to the plethora of food at his disposal. Immediately, he began to eat. “Oh man, I could get used to this.” Daffy said more to himself than anyone.

After a moment, Bugs’ cleared his throat slightly. “Eh, Daff… I was hopin’ to go over some stuff about the school today.” He said.

“Today? No can do.” Daffy said, pulling out a cellphone from behind his back, “I have about five different interviews, three of them are public appearances and I have just about fifteen different emails asking for article interviews.” He said.

Bugs’ felt his ear twitch in annoyance. “Didn’t you just fly in yesterday?” He asked.

“What does that have to do with anything? I’m Daffy Duck. Soon to be Professor Daffy Duck!”

“Not if I decide I don’t like what you’re gonna be teachin’ at my school.”

Watching the two banter was like watching a tennis match for the siblings. Especially considering the two were at separate ends of the kitchen table.

Daffy glared right back at Bugs with no fear. “Then why don’t you come up with whatever I’ll be teaching, huh?” He asked.

“Daff, I’m the principal of the only school in Toon Town. There’s no official district to tell us what we should be teachin’. I jus’ wanna make sure we’ll be doin’ this right.” Bugs told him. After a moment, he realized Daffy wasn’t going to budge so Bugs rolled his eyes. “Fine. How’s about this? You go an’ make your way around L.A., do all your lil interviews, and once you get back ‘ere we go over school stuff... If not tonight, then tomorrow... Capiche?”

“Fine.” Daffy said simply, though it didn’t seem like he was too happy about it.

Once the two were done arguing, Yakko decided to speak up. “Well, we better get goin’...”

The siblings took that as a cue to stand up from their places, with Wakko being the last as he shoveled in the rest of his food as quickly as he could. Daffy watched curiously when Bugs stood up and walked to the kitchen, pulling out three paper bags from the fridge. “Y’all have your studio passes?” He asked.

“I have the studio passes, this time.” Yakko said, presenting the three lanyards for Bugs to see. “Cuz we all know what happened to Wakko’s last week.”

“I got hungry…” Wakko said with a small pout.

“When are you not hungry, Wakko?” Dot asked, to which Wakko only answered with a giggle.

Bugs began to hand over their premade lunches when they were at the door, “Remember, you run into any problems on set you call me… alright?” He asked. Bugs was satisfied when he saw them nod in agreement.

“Eehhh… could you venmo a couple bucks for the Uber?” Yakko asked.

“Your account should have a hundred smackaroons already…” Bugs said, looking suspiciously at Yakko.

“What can I say? I leave ‘em great tips.” Yakko said with a smile.

“...You’re on dish duty when you get home, Yakko.” Bugs said, pulling out his phone.

Yakko rolled his eyes, took the three lunches Bugs had provided and walked through the door. Dot hugged Bugs before she turned away, “Bye, Bugs!” She chirped.

Bugs gave her a wave and looked on as Wakko gave his own wave, “See ya, Dad!” And saw a mixture of amusement and horror spread across his black and white face.

The word felt like something had hit Bugs’ chest and knocked the air out of him. As if to soften this blow, Bugs immediately returned with a rushed sounding, “GoodbyeWakko!!” and slammed the door shut.

When the three got in their designated car, Wakko looked at Yakko. “Did I mess up?” He asked, with a small blush on his white cheeks.

Yakko sighed slightly, “No kiddo, you didn’t mess up. I’m sure Bugs is taking it in stride.” He said. “It’d probably be best to try and not to say it again until he gives the okay though, alright?”

In the house, Bugs had hoped Daffy hadn’t heard the exchange. He had hoped he wouldn’t read into the deep blush that had bloomed across his fluffy cheeks. But as soon as Bugs looked up and down the hall, he saw a smug look plastered on Daffy’s face.

Bugs almost wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. Instead he sat up and walked over to Daffy. “Why are you givin’ me dat look?” He asked.

“So much for the biggest Bachelor of Toon Town. You realize once the paparazzi get in on this, you’re rep is gonna take a whole ‘nother turn.” Daffy said.

“Unlike you, I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me or what I do with my life.” Bugs snapped.

“If you say so.” Daffy said, his smug look never going away, “Personally, I think fatherhood suits you.” He told Bugs. “And who knows what could happen if this household had a more womanly touch?”

After hearing that, Bugs knew what Daffy was trying to say. He shook his head, “Oh I see, you like to think Lola suits me… Cuz you and nearly half of da world thinks she and I were made for each other.” He said.

“Bugs… She was literally created for you.” Daffy said.

“No! She was a Toon created for one movie in the nineties, to be cast in the role of my love interest. Nothin’ more.” Bugs corrected. Do you know what that does to a Toon’s psyche? He nearly asked, but kept it to himself.

“But you two were together, eventually. And I distinctly remember that the only reason you two broke it off was because you told me you didn’t want kids, and she did.” Daffy pointed out.

Bugs felt his cheeks ignite once more, “Believe you me, dat wasn’t the only reason.” He said.

Daffy hovered over Bugs as he began to clear up the kitchen table. “Oh really? Pray tell, what else was there? Did she snore? Was she draining your wallet? Did she have an annoying laugh? Did she cheat on ya?” He interrogated.

“What’s it to ya, Duck?” Bugs asked, continuing to ignore his friend’s line of questioning.

“Look, any Toon with half a brain would give their left foot to have a perfectly drawn counterpart like that. To get a fraction of what every iconic Toon couple has.” Daffy told Bugs, “Like Donald and Daisy, like Popeye and Olive Oyl, like Spiderman and whatever her name is.”

“Mary-Jane…” Bugs finished for him.

“That’s what I said.” Daffy said immediately. Bugs rolled his eyes and carried a stack of empty dishes to the kitchen sink.

Years before Daffy had moved to his private island, he remembered Bugs and Lola being the hottest couple in Toon Town. The two were featured on tabloids and TV shows, and their joint merchandise sold like crazy. They had been happy and nearly inseparable. Now, Daffy couldn’t even find a single picture of Lola inside Bugs’ house.

“What happened to you two?” Daffy asked.

“Don’t you have interviews to get to?” Bugs asked loudly as he turned on the faucet and began to rinse off his dishes. “I thought your day was soo busy!”

Daffy looked offended, “You don’t wanna tell your best friend about your previous relationship when he asks, then fine!” He exclaimed.

Bugs stopped what he was doing and shut off the sink immediately. “You wanna pull that card, eh?” He asked dangerously. “Last time I checked, best friends didn’t leave one anoda high and dry in a mansion off the coast of Central America!” He shouted back.

“Hey! Communication is a two-way street, bub! You coulda called or visited me any time!”

“Yeah sure Daff, lemme just hop on my private jet to my private yacht and snorkel my way to your front door when I need you most.” Bugs felt and swallowed a small lump that formed in his throat after saying that.

“Why would you swim to shore when I have a perfectly good runway for the private jet?” Daffy asked, more confused than anything.

“Missin’ the point, as usual.” Bugs said, disappointingly. He felt a headache coming on when he turned the water back on in the sink,  “Maybe invitin’ you to stay wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Are you throwing me out?” Daffy asked.

“I jus’ might, if you don’t leave for those interviews soon.” Bugs said, throwing Daffy a harsh glare over his shoulder.

Daffy turned away and threw his arms into the air. “Fine! I’ll go, I’ll go…” He said with a low grumble.

Minutes later, without another word between them, Daffy was in the backseat of a hired car and driving away from Bugs’ house. He pulled out his phone and rang up his agent. It was clear to Daffy that he had missed out on a lot of Bugs’ life. He was going to make it his mission to bring himself up to speed. As soon as he heard the other line pick up Daffy didn’t hesitate, “Cancel Conan, I’m making dinner plans with a certain pig.” He said.

“Are you sure, sir? Conan is a big gig. He’s really curious about Bugs’ school.” His agent asked.

“Then tell ‘im to get Bugs on his damn show.” Daffy said lamely before hanging up.

Once that was cleared up he dialed another number, “H- h- ah- hello?” The other end asked.

“Porky! My ol’ pal! I’m sure you’ve heard about it already, but I’m in town--”

“N- n- nuh- uh, no.” Porky stammered.

“--and I thought we’d play a little bit of catch-up! Whaddya say?” Daffy asked.

“W- w- well I’m uh- I’m a lil busy…” The other Toon started to say.

“Nonsense! Let’s do tonight at seven. I’ll send you the address.” Daffy said and then quickly hung up.

Hours later, Daffy walked up to the restaurant to claim his reservation for two. The place was dark, seemingly only lit by fairy lights, therefore making it a little difficult to see for most. Luckily, Toons were created to see in low light situations. Once he had reached his tall wooden booth, Daffy began to order. Not too long after, he saw Porky Pig approach his table and sit down.

“Okay Porky, I’m gonna need a rundown of every major life event I’ve missed in Bugs’ life since I’ve been gone.” Daffy said, without exchanging any sort of pleasantries.

Porky sat across from Daffy with a blank stare. “You- you uh think I’m his chronicler? He- he- his secretary? Why w- why do you wanna know this all of a sudden?” He asked.

“I’m staying with him. And since I’ve been with him I’ve learned that he’s been watching the Warners, started a Toon school, cut out Lola from his life and looks terrible after all of that. You and I are his only friends in this life—“

“Ab ab- We’re definitely not his only friends.” Porky tried to interject.

“—and if we don’t find out what’s eating him up inside soon, it could be too late!” Daffy proclaimed dramatically.

“D- d- does he owe you something?” Porky asked curiously.

“Porky, I’m trying to do something decent for my best friend: find out the stressors in his life and stop them.” Daffy said, crossing his arms.

“I d- don’t understand why you don’t just ask him.”

“We had an argument.” Daffy mentioned, “Plus, you know how secretive Bugs can get.”

Porky sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this no matter what. He had learned by now that when either Bugs or Daffy had their mind on something, they would see it through.

“Listen… all I- all I know is that shortly after The Looney Tunes Show was cancelled, Lola and Bugs broke up.” Porky said.

“But how? They were the jewels of Toon Town! They were inseparable. They did all sorts of mushy couple stuff. Even before the show, Bugs helped get her athletic career going. And Lola went to every sleazy bar and fancy casino Bugs could gig at when he was trying to get into stand up during the late 90s. You remember that, right?” Daffy asked.

The phrase that had haunted Porky for years finally slipped out, “S- she changed. That’s what he said, anyway.” He said. He had heard it from the drunken lips of Bugs Bunny himself. To this day, he didn’t know exactly what it meant, but the way he said it still unnerved him.

Daffy sat in silence for a long time. “Changed… what? How? When?” He asked, feeling even more confused than ever.

Porky shook his head. “I d- I d- I don’t know. My best guess has been that they just grew ah, grew apart.” He said.

Daffy wasn’t fully convinced. “There’s gotta be more to it. You sure he didn’t tell you anything else?”

“No.” He said quickly, “Bu- bu- but I will say. Ever since he’s had this idea for a Toon school, he’s been becoming more paranoid and stressed.” Porky pointed out. Immediately, Daffy thought back to last night where Bugs nearly caved his skull in with a bat. “And- and I don’t think raising those rambunctious kids on his own is doing much good. So, if you can, try to stay on his goo- goo- uh, good side and help him out.”

Daffy gave a small huff in Porky’s direction. “Yeah okay…”

Back at Bugs’ place, he had spent all day working from home. Brainstorming different classes, sending follow up emails to potential teachers and over all trying to think about his school. He knew that a lot of people, especially Toons, were expecting a lot from him. So he wanted to make sure things were coming together.

Later on, he received a text from Porky Pig that read, “Your feathery guest came to talk to me. It seems like he has good intentions, but I never know when it comes to him.”

Bugs rolled his eyes and replied back, “I’ll take care of it. Thanks for letting me know.”

After all of that, Bugs had found himself spending quite some time sitting on the couch staring at his cellphone. Every twenty minutes or so he’d remember the number was sitting undialed on his keypad. And every time he thought about calling it, he’d circle the room. After a long while, he finally took in a deep breath and dialed the number.

“Allison… I think I’m ready.” Bugs said when he heard the line being answered.

There was a pause, “... For…?” She questioned.

“Operation, Dad.”

“Oh!! Oh I’ll get the paperwork to you straight away Mr. Bunny! I’ll also get another interview appointment for you set up soon, y’know, adoption agency stuff. I’m sure they’ll be properly in your custody in no time! Well... as soon as everything is signed and approved, anyway. I’m so happy for you all!” Allison chimed.

“About the paperwork, I’d like to make a special request…” Bugs said.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Bugs and Allison spoke about what was next in the process in terms of adopting the Warners. Technically, in human years, they were full-fledged adults and would have been well out of the system. The three were created in 1991, after all. But there were a couple of rules in place for Toons which simply states that because of their child-like nature, they were still recognized as children. So Bugs still had to go through the same process as though he were adopting children. Even if that wasn’t the case, Bugs would most certainly find the means to adopt them.

Once Bugs hung up, he felt better about things. This meant they all still had time to talk things over. Bugs still wasn’t entirely sure about each of their feelings on the subject matter, but he was even more determined to find out now more than ever. Bugs couldn’t help but think back to when Wakko had called him ‘Dad’ earlier. So much pride and happiness swelled in Bugs’ chest, he began to softly cry. He loved them so much, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself if they didn’t want this.

To keep himself from thinking about things too hard, he wiped away his tears and decided to start making dinner. Cooking was a source of comfort to Bugs. It helped him keep his hands and mind busy. By now, Bugs had learned to cook meals for six or more, to accommodate for Wakko’s monstrous appetite. In truth, Toons had a larger stomach than the average human, a fact that was commonly exploited. For some reason or another, Wakko’s stomach and appetite was two times that size.

Bugs’ ears perked at the sound of the front door opening. He peaked around the corner with a smile, only to have it melt into a frown when he saw Daffy walk through the door. He had returned to his cooking by the time Daffy made his way into the kitchen. The two sat in a long silence, Daffy watching Bugs’ every move.

Finally, Bugs broke the silence, “You eat?” He asked.

“Yes, I had dinner with a friend.” Daffy said.

“You feel like sayin’ anythin’ to me?” Bugs asked.

Again, there was a long and agonizing silence between them. Bugs couldn’t help but smile slightly. He knew it was incredibly hard for Daffy to apologize. To admit wrongdoing would be admitting failure, and failure was less-than perfect, which was the opposite of what Daffy strived for.

“I was jus’—“ He started. Daffy immediately stopped that line when he saw Bugs’ ear twitch. “I want to help.” He tried.

“Well then, you can start by apologizin’ for pryin’.” Bugs said.

Daffy groaned out like he was in physical pain, “Auugghhh! Alright! I’m sorry.” He admitted. “I just feel like I missed so much.” He said, just before he noticed Bugs’ tail wiggle slightly. Daffy wondered since when did he find that kind of adorable? He tried not to let his eyes linger there for long; instead, focusing up on Bugs’ gloved hands while he prepared his food.

“Well if you really feel dat way, you can always just talk to me.” Bugs said simply.

“You’ve always been so closed off! And stand-offish! And you wouldn’t tell me that one thing.” Daffy huffed, crossing his arms.

“Daff, I opened my home to you. I answered most of your questions and I’ve been very patient. As far as things concernin’ Lola, all I’m asking is dat you leave it alone. You don’t wanna go down this rabbit hole.” Bugs warned.

Hearing him say that only made Daffy more insanely curious. Still, he filed away these feelings for later. “Fine.” Daffy said with a small pout.

Bugs looked over at Daffy with a kind smile, appreciating the fact that he was respecting this boundary. Something that, if had been brought up in the past, would have been trampled all over. “Y’know, I have a coupla questions myself.” Bugs admitted.

“Oh?” Daffy asked.

“Yeah. Like, why’d you wanna come back to teach at a school? It can’t be for da money.” Bugs said.

“You know what I’m about, Bugsy.” Daffy told him, leaning on the kitchen island, “I want fame, recognition and fortune. Owning a legacy comes with that. I want to be remembered in history books. Being apart of the first Toon school? That’s history right there.”

“Well, I can’t argue with dat.” Bugs said with a shrug.

Soon, Daffy took the barstool and they continued to talk. And just like that, it seemed like they were right where they had left off all those years ago. Daffy wasn’t sure if it was the content of their conversations, or if that was just the effect Bugs had on others. He was always such a smooth-talker and it always felt like he had control of the conversation. Daffy interjected when he could (it was in both their nature to be the center of attention, after all) and most importantly they shared stories.

From what Daffy understood, the Warners brought a lot of joy and excitement in his life. Even if it had only been a little over a year. Ultimately, Daffy was proud of Bugs. “So when are you gonna adopt ‘em?” Daffy asked.

Hearing that, Bugs nearly dropped a dish he was pulling out of the oven. Luckily he had been close enough to the kitchen island that the dish simply landed on it a little harder than if he’d normally place it down.  “Eeh.. well, I uh. I talked to the adoption agency today, actually. There just needs to be a few more interviews and some paperwork.” He said.

“Of course. Wouldn’t wanna rush into somethin’ like this.” Daffy said.

“I… still don’t know if I’m ready, Daff.” Bugs admitted, looking down at his casserole. “I don’t know if dat’s really what they want.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Daffy exclaimed, “All you’re missing are family portraits to put in your wallet. You’re perfect dad material. If they can’t see that, it’s their loss.”

“Who’s loss?” A nasally voice asked.

Bugs and Daffy turned simultaneously and saw the Warners peeking around the corner by height. Wakko sniffed the air and gave a small sigh. “It smells so good.” He commented.

Internally, Bugs was screaming. He wasn’t sure just how much the Warners had heard of their conversation until Dot spoke. “So when are we getting those family portraits?” She asked with a grin.

“I guess we could all use some new headshots.” Yakko joked with her.

Bugs took in a deep breath, “They’re sendin’ Allison over for anoda coupla home interviews.” He announced.

“Oh won’t that be nice? I was starting to miss her.” Dot chimed. “Can you believe it took them ten interviewers before they found her?” She asked Daffy.

“She’s put up with a lot of our shenanigans.” Wakko said.

“Eehh… What are we gonna tell ‘er about the duck?” Yakko asked, pointing his thumb in Daffy’s direction. Daffy looked a little annoyed, but didn’t say a word.

“Oh! What if we tell ‘er he’s our second cousin twice removed?” Wakko proposed.

“We ain’t lyin’.” Bugs said quickly, “He’s here temporarily, and that’s what we tell ‘em.” He said.

Daffy shrugged and got up to start walking out of the room. “Well it’s obvious you’ve got some things to talk about. I’ll see myself out.”

With that, the four began to set the table with what Bugs had cooked for them. Once the table was set and food was served, Bugs spoke up. “About the adoption… I don’t need answers from you guys yet. The process is long to begin with. Just… think about things for me, alright?” He asked.

“You got it, Bugs.” Yakko said with a smile and a small wink.

After hearing that, Bugs felt like he was on top of the world. Things were falling into place more smoothly than he could have ever imagined.

----

Huzzah!! This chapter is more relationship establishing stuff. Overall, I’m satisfied with it. Hope y’all enjoyed it! 

#looney tunes #baffy #htdat #my fanfiction

[thebibliomancer]

50 More Days of Comics! 46/50: The Wedding of Popeye & Olive #1 (1999)

This is weird beyond words.

Popeye has a full head of hair??

What other weird oddities are hiding beneath the poorly understood surface, what Deepest Lore does the sailor man hide, not know to the wider public?

A lot! Popeye lore is a little bonkers!

Lets get into it!

Here’s one. Popeye wasn’t Olive’s first boyfriend. There was a guy called Ham Gravy or Harold Hamgravy who was the main character of the Thimble Theater comic strip (which eventually became Thimble Theater starring Popeye and then just Popeye).

He was Olive’s fiancee but also a slacker who often had eyes for other women if they were rich because he wanted to get rich quick and easy without working for it.

But apparently during his absence from Olive’s life, he has hit it rich and now dresses like a Texan millionaire.

Ham: “Honest, Olive... I never understood what you saw in him... He’s not as good-looking as me, or as rich as me, or as successful as me, or as well-dressed as me-”

Olive, pausing from upending an entire box of chocolates into her mouth: “Wait! -- Back up! Did you say... ‘rich’? You’re... rich?”

Ham: “Oh, yeah! I made huge investments in the stock market!”

Olive, with $ for eyes: “They all paid off?”

Ham: “Well... no... They all crashed! But, my dad got so mad, that when he was yelling at me about ‘em, his brain exploded and I inherited his millions!

“So whattaya say, Olive? Let me do right by you. Marry me! It’s more than that one-eyed sailor ever did for you!”

Olive, still $ for eyes: “Ham, Ham! -- Thi$ i$ $o sudden! What el$e can I $ay but, of cour$e!”

-sees picture of Popeye- “Of... of course... -- NOTTT! I’m... I’m sorry, Ham... I can’t...”

Aww. She loves her sailor man.

Ham accepts this gracefully.

Because he preemptively hired a goon to kidnap her, expecting her to say no.

That’s gracefully, right?

Also, I didn’t really have many thoughts about Olive Oyl prior to this. I had this sense that she’s one of the archetypal gets-kidnapped-so-she-can-be-rescued characters. But she is a delight in this scene.

And yes, she does immediately get kidnapped. But she has a lot of character in this conversation.

Elsewhere, Popeye accidentally saves a Just Married couple when the brake in their car fails. Which he does by standing on the dock, not paying attention, because he found a Jeep (a weird magic creature) stopping to smell the dock flowers and was worried it would get into an ‘askidenk’ not paying attention.

Also:

Popeye: “Ya may be a Jeep, but ya ain’t no car!”

Hah.

The married couple thank Popeye for saving them, by standing on the dock not paying attention so that their runaway car crashed into him, which he didn’t notice, sending them flying safely through the air into the ocean. The bride tells him that he’ll make a wonderful husband for some lucky girl someday.

And this puts him in an introspective mood about marriage.

Popeye: “Marich! A man takin’ a wife... T’sa big step Eugene! Marich... Me an’ Olive, we kin be good t’gedder! -- But I dunno... she can be so... so Olive! Sometimes I wonder.. will Olive ‘n me ever gets t’be hitched?”

But he done introspected in the right location if he wanted answers for his rhetorical questions. Because Jeeps can tell the future! Just go with it! And when Popeye asks whether he and Olive will ever get married, Eugene the Jeep bends over and waves his tail three times which means “Signs point to yes.”

Being no dummy, Popeye asks follow up questions and learns that he and Olive are going to get married soon and not next year or next week but TOMORROW, THE JEEP IS NEVER WRONG!

Popeye: “Then I gots’ta propose, ‘cause if we gets married widdout me proposin’, it ain’t gonna be offiskal! I kin not waits t’tell Olive! I kin jusk hear her muksical voice sayin’ --”

Olive, being kidnapped: “NOOOOO!”

Popeye: “I wuz kinda hopin’ for a yes...”

Hah.

Before Popeye can respond to Olive being kidnapped, goon-napped, gravy-napped, Bluto bursts through the dock. Popeye tries to knock him out but even though he punches the guy many times, he can’t wipe the smile off his face.

Winded and having run “outta soks in me sok drawer” which is an amazing turn of phrase relying entirely on comic book sound effects, Popeye wonders whats going on here.

Bluto: “Things’ve changed, Popeye! Y’see... I found the Wiffle Hen.. and rubbed her head!”

Popeye: “No!”

Bluto: “YESSSS!”

Popeye Deepest Lore is so wild.

Anyway, Bluto punches Popeye across town and then swims out to Ham Gravy’s boat. Wherein he promptly takes over Ham Gravy’s evil plan.

Ham wanted to go to his hideaway in Malta but Bluto was only going along with the plan because Ham could get him the boat he needed. And instead they’re going to Spinachania, the Kingdom of King Blozo, where most of the world’s spinach apparently comes from.

Olive: “I thought his country was called Nazilia!”

Bluto: “Nah... they changed it ‘cause Nazis kept showin’ up!”

... Welp.

Anyway, Bluto is going to eat all the spinach he can, steal what he can’t eat, and then burn the kingdom down. And then he’s going to marry Olive.

Ham: “I’m... I’m sorry, Olive... This hasn’t gone at all as I had planned... I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me!”

Olive: -pounds him into the deck like a nail-

Ham: “-- I’ll take that as a maybe...”

Meanwhile, Wimpy tries to get free hamburgers by claiming that it would be a charitable act and thus tax deductible. Old Man Geezil has finally had enough of this nonsense and is about to stab Wimpy when Popeye falls out of the sky on top of him.

Popeye promptly tries to hire a crew to help him save Olive but since he has nineteen cents to his name, everybody turns him down. Everybody but Wimpy.

Wimpy: “In the interest of our long association, I will sail with you today for a hamburger on Tuesday!”

Awww, Wimpy!

So Popeye sends Wimpy to find a ship (who steals Geezil’s, geez no wonder the man hates him) while he rounds up the ‘fambly’ Olive’s brother Castor Oyl, Olive’s parents Nana and Cole Oyl, Popeye’s reprobate dad Poopdeck Pappy, Swee’ Pea, Alice the Goon, and of course Eugene the Jeep.

On the trip, Popeye explains some Deepest Lore to Wimpy and whoever in the audience. Spinach helps Popeye be strong but rubbing the head of the Wiffle Hen years ago is what made it so nothing can hurt him, apparently.

And he deduces that since Bluto is taking pages out of his book, that he’ll be headed to get all the spinach from Spinachania and then there might be no stopping him.

Meanwhile, Spinachania and the king is having an anxiety attack. He just knows something bad is going to happen. AND HE’S RIGHT, THE KINGDOM IS UNDER ATTACK.

King Blozo: “I knew it! How many attackers? A thousand? -- A million??!”

A general: “Two, sire... B-but they’re annihilating our army!! It’s kind of embarrassing, really--”

And Bluto and Ted the Goon are indeed just kind of stomping the entire army.

They arrive at the Royal Spinach Field but when Bluto goes to grab the spinach, it THWIP!s underground. Like in a cartoon when a mole or gopher or something yoinks a vegetable underground.

But its not mole or gopher or something, its Popeye and he’s eaten all the spinach he yoinked so he’s real roided out.

Popeye rips the bag off Bluto’s back, freeing Olive and the Wiffle Hen.

Bluto calls for Ted the Goon to assist him but Ted has gone and fallen in love with Alice the Goon off-panel and now they’re having a picnic.

So Popeye and Bluto punch each other in the same pose for hours. Yes, really.

And Olive has an idea how to break the stalemate.

Bluto, looking tired: “... I don’t get it... I’m bigger’n you! Tougher’n you! I ate the spinach... rubbed the Wiffle Hen’s head -- an’ as long as the magic of the Wiffle Hen exists, I’ll still be able to-”

Cue Wimpy wandering by with a drumstick remarking how delicious rare magical birds are.

And while Bluto is panicking about not being super-invulnerable anymore, Popeye socks him in the gut. And he tries to sock Popeye back but it makes a KLONG! like punching metal and hurts Bluto’s hand.

He panics that Popeye shouldn’t be super-invulnerable anymore either.

Popeye: “I don’t needs t’be!  ‘Cause I yam what I yam an’ thass all that I yam!”

And then he punches Bluto into the sky.

Popeye then finds out that the Wiffle Hen is fine and wonders what happened so that he was able to beat Bluto if they were both super-invulnerable.

Poopdeck Pappy suggests that confidence is the real super power and that Popeye always has confidence in all things.

Popeye: “Not all... not in th’ one t’ing I shudda had all these years! But I’m fixin’ that... right now!”

And then he proposes to Olive (with a cigar band in lieu of a ring) and she immediately accepts.

Awww!

For a comic titled the Wedding of Popeye and Olive, the actual wedding only takes up the last two pages.

King Blozo marries them. There’s a gag where after they kiss, Popeye’s pipe has wound up in Olive’s mouth. And then she throws the bouquet.

And the Sea Hag of all people catches it. And immediately starts chasing Wimpy to marry him.

The Sea Hag: “Wait! I caught the bouquet!”

Wimpy: “And I’m catching the next plane out of town! -- Happy honeymoon, Popeye and Olive! I’ll drop you a line from wherever I’m hiding!!”

So that was the Wedding of Popeye and Olive and it was funny and it was cute and it has given me a new appreciation for the characters.

Thank you, box of mystery. I never would have read this without you.

#50 more days of comics! #Popeye #Olive Oyl #The Wedding of Popeye and Olive Oyl #good times

[dilfhakyeon-moved]

please hit us with coffee shop au number 4 with ralbert 😩😩

Gang gang bitch I did it

Gonna add the tag list regardless bc hey I do… what I can

Warnings: some mentions of some nsfw stuff I guess uh, maybe language ? idk

It’d been quite a few times now, that this specific customer had been coming. Yes, a new “regular”, right ? At least that meant they were making money, Anthony clearly wasn’t about to complain about that. The guy was kinda cute too, wasn’t he ? He didn’t mind taking his order everytime he came in.

Or he wouldn’t mind, if that moron wasn’t giving a different name everytime, which was getting quite ridiculous.

What, he really had to write ‘Batman’ sometimes, that wasn’t something he enjoyed doing. Felt kind of stupid, like he was being played ; not once he had given his real name ( or at least the poor barista clearly doubted he’d gotten even one name right at this point ) and while it could be a fun game, he really… wanted to know what was the name of that ridiculously cute guy he saw come in more than once a week. Especially considering that guy was obviously doing it on purpose to bother him, he saw how he was being looked at ! He wasn’t stupid !

And since he wasn’t stupid, he’d decided to give it a shot and establish a strategy. Taking in account that guy had a schedule and only came on some days, he’d just hidden in the back room on a day he was meant to come, and… he did come !

But his disappointed, almost sad face as he realised the blond was nowhere to be seen, maybe it made him feel a little bad. But now he’d walked in, he couldn’t walk out without looking like an idiot. He was going to do the usual, and maybe give yet another different name ? Anthony listened closely from behind the door, but didn’t hear anything. Once the guy had gone to take a seat though, his coworker came to the back room and quickly the situation was sorted out.

He’d gotten the new name, but this time it felt like it was real. Poor guy probably didn’t want to mess with everyone, huh ? He’d just set his yes on that one specific twink and he’d decided it’d be so much goddamn fun to take his time. Unluckily, that one specific twink really wanted to spend time on him.

It was to say, he wasn’t the least attractive guy he’d met, right ? No, yeah, maybe he’d spent… quite some time just observing him from the counter, maybe he’d just gotten himself flustered with just how good he looked, these wild red curls framing his face so well, their hue somehow matching his dark brown eyes in warmth. They were so expressive too ; it was easy to read how mischievous he felt, or even what kind of day he’d been having. And all these beauty marks he’d managed to spot, they looked cute, didn’t they ?… his build, how frankly fit and even muscular he seemed to be, and… and his lips, they– they looked good, didn’t they ? They were soft - or that’s what he thought - and a nice pink, and… and, what if they happened to be pressed against - oh no, his skin ? No, no, his lips ? And his own lips, yes, Anthony’s, they could be wandering around that skin of his, and his hands racking through the mess that was his hair, and pulling on it when the redhead’s own hands were just perhaps, maybe–

Maybe that was too much and he really needed to stop being a creep, but everyone deserves to know his thoughts included cheesy romantic interactions ; well, how could he not picture himself having fun with a guy who was messing with him by never using his goddamn real name ? Maybe he’d just gotten himself a little turned on thinking about all this again, but he was also horny for cuddles and pretending they can dance tango. He won’t take constructive criticism.

“So, Albert.”

Before he’d even realised himself, he was sitting in front of… Albert. The grin on his face was quickly turning into a smirk, his freshly named friend was now giving him half of what could be called a death glare. He didn’t seem to upset though, his cheeks showed he was more flustered than anything else - which definitely got Race to laugh.

“What ‘bout that face, huh ? Did I insult you or what ?”

“There’s a reason I don’t use my name usually, jerk.”

“Yea, right, aside from playin’ with me ?”

Anthony leaned in his seat, eyebrows as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s my break, you’re lucky, ain’t ya ?” He then added, like it was actually his break. It wasn’t. They didn’t even close in that long, it was just pretty dead at the moment and he enjoyed wasting time there.

“Real lucky, Anthony.”

“We finally get to talk, Albert.”

“We sure are talking, Tony.”

Ouch, a nickname already ? A shiver was sent down his spine. Yes, he was indeed absolutely weak for these, what could he say ! Not that he often got them anymore, but that only made it better. Or worse given the context, and maybe this time it’d be on the “worse” end of the stick. He just stuttered out an answer, which kind of sucked in itself.

“Right back at ya, … Albitch.”

Albert had to try really hard not to spit out his coffee as he heard that. Anthony could see it, and it wasn’t that it made him feel ridiculous, but… bleh.The next few minutes were just spent with them making eye contact constantly while the other was finishing his coffee. And once he was done, they stayed quiet for a little longer, just gazing into each other’s eyes. And maybe the blond was getting a bit lost in thoughts there again, but could he be blamed ? He was staring at this guy he’d been pretty much waiting to know for… months, at this point. THIS was ridiculous. He agreed he was a silly person in general, but he’d waited so long, it wasn’t even funny anymore.And in that time they just spent not talking, it just so happened it was time for the shop to close. Great, right ? No, okay, he was actually going to get to it, pretty boy…. hot guy could wait a little.

Fast forward to when the shop had finally closed, after his one coworker had taunted him about the quick looks he gave their good ol’ customer while the latter was just constantly staring at him… no, checking him out.

Everyone was out, and everyone’s favourite twink was now free to talk with his… acquaintance, who was leaning against the wall outside ( duh ).

“So, day’s ending.”

“Yea. Pretty cool, it was boring.” Act casual, yeah ?

“No plans tonight, I’m expecting ?”

Frankly, he’d have accepted it very easily, hadn’t Albert sounded like an ass about it. How dare he assume he didn’t already have a very good lover, or even friends, or… or that he wasn’t going to go out partying ?

“I mean, you’re working tomorrow too, so I figured.”

Ah, well. Fair, with that reasoning, he couldn’t deny it.

“Even though you don’t seem like the kind'a guy to do reasonable stuff.”

… Fair again. He was being insulted there, wasn’t he ? He had no argument against it, but at the same time it kind of made him feel bad, until he felt the other’s hand on his own. He blinked, and quite snapped back into reality instead of drifting away in his own thoughts.

“So I’m decidin’ I’m taking you out tonight. Sounds good ?”

Well, fucking sure it sounded good ! If he had to be going out after work with anyone, it better be with that goddamn chaotic redhead.

“Hopin’ it’s a date ‘cause I ain’t got money,” the blond eventually answered, his smile slowly making its way back to his face. “Don’t care about the place, by the way. Can’t be picky when you make coffee for a livin’.”

Once again getting a laugh out of Albert, he decided to properly hold his hand. Even if that meant his cheeks were more colourful just for a few.

“So we’re going on a date ?”

“Yea.”

“Anywhere ?”

“Don’t care.”

“Good, 'cause I don’t know where we’re going yet.”

“You’re stupid.”But he was quite happy with going on a date with that stupid guy.

Tag list:@well-the-kids-do-too@racetrackcook@i-got-personality@imjusttheoutgoingsidekick@thatfancyclam@we-dont-sell-papes@ben-cook-can-cook@not-your-cigar@fuckinviral@jackhasdreams@racescoronas@suddenly-im-respecsable@purplelittlepup@hopeful-broadwaybaby@broadwayandbookblog@crazymecjc@maiawakening

#ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #newsies #androlomew writes stuff

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

December 15, Christmas Caryl

@freefromthecocoon sent me a prompt asking me to write a Christmas Caryl based on The Gift of the Magi short story. Here’s my humble attempt (also on 9L)

The Gift of Us

Carol had wracked her brain for days trying to decide on the perfect present for Daryl. She really wanted to make this Christmas—their first together as a couple—special, but with the world given over to the dead, her options had drastically diminished: weapons (a necessity, but not an exceptional gift), clothes (giving him shirts or pants or shoes that had once belonged to someone else didn’t feel special, no matter how much they needed attire), food (stale, canned, jarred, or a fave made with paltry substitutions hardly seemed worthy), something for his motocycle (Aaron had assured her he had everything Daryl could need for the bike), and good loving (well…that was already a given).

For the time being, they had walls, relative safety, a home, gardens, weapons, and food, all the things that mattered now, and she desperately wanted to give him something that would last, something he’d appreciate, a gift to convey just how much she cared about him.

From the en suite bathroom where she stood brushing her teeth, she stared at his side of the bed. His nightstand, stark compared to hers, held a lamp and a box of bullets that matched the gun inside the drawer. His pillow, undisturbed for nights now with his absence, remained fluffed but askew. The duffle he’d recently started using—“Don’t need a closet,” he’d explained in that gruff voice of his when he’d set it on the floor near the bed. “Got nuthin’ to fill it with. And…just in case we gotta leave quickly…”—held his few possessions: some clothes, a sheathed knife, extra bullets, a few tools. He’d lay his angel-wing vest over the bag like a gothic sentinel when he wasn’t wearing it, but its absence only deepened the longing in her chest for him. The room held other traces of him—a lighter and motorcycle gloves on the dresser, a pair of shoes next to it, and a pack of energy drinks she couldn’t stand the taste of sitting in the corner—and an overwhelming sense of emptiness engulfed her.

She missed him. He’d left nearly a week ago with Tara and Rick to scavenge, and though she expected their return any day now, Christmas, according to the calendar the Alexandrians had kept, was only two days away.

Rick had promised Michonne, just as Daryl had promised her, that they’d return in time to celebrate. She only hoped they hadn’t run into any trouble that would prevent them from keeping their word.

Carol finished brushing her teeth and stopped at the threshold of the room again, scanning it for ideas once more.

And then it hit her.

She’d need materials, several hours of free time, and a few lessons from Margaret over at the Kingdom.

Tomorrow, she determined. She’d trek over there, ask Margaret for help, and, if lucky, complete the project early enough to return home. She’d rather lose sleep than have Daryl arrive home, on Christmas Eve no less, without her there.

Snuggling down into her lonely bed, she smiled contentedly to herself, relieved to have finally settled on a gift both unique and meaningful.

Now if she could only pull it off…

******

Avoiding an overhanging branch as he traipsed through the frozen forest, Daryl blustered a sigh, wondering yet again what he could give to Carol for Christmas. Over the years, he’d brought her treats and trinkets from the runs and hunting trips he’d led: a few shirts in her favorite shade of red; a lamp for her cell when she’d mentioned the prison felt cloyingly dark; a pair of earring studs when she’d realized one of hers had fallen out of her ear somewhere along the way; warm, fuzzy socks when it got cold. But this gift needed to exceed any of those trifles; he wanted it to communicate how much Carol had come to mean to him.

He’d considered the usual (clothes, jewelry or accessories, chocolate, or books or puzzles, her favorite pastimes) but nothing struck him as significant enough.

What would relay to her how she’d helped him grow into a person, a man who’d learned how to love and let others love him? What could he possibly give her to let her know how gratitude filled him when he recalled her dragging him back from his destructive path after he’d failed to bring Sophia back to her?

He’d watched her grow, too. From a quietly brave woman to a revered leader, experienced in strategy and with weapons, and light years beyond any of their family and friends in the art of war.

And then it hit him. A gift to illustrate how far she’d come and sentimental enough to portray his love for her.

He’d just need to stop at the Hilltop before returning to Alexandria.

“Should be home by tomorrow,” he threw over his shoulder at Tara and Rick as they followed in his tracks.

He quickened his pace, his footsteps lighter now that, not only would he be back with Carol tomorrow, but he’d have the perfect gift to give her on Christmas.

 *****

“It’ll cost you that knife.”

Carol’s hand flew to her hip, the focus of Margaret’s pointing, and wrapped her hand around the hilt. She drew her brows together. “My knife? The Kingdom has plenty of weapons. What do you need this one for?” She asked amiably, but she didn’t like the sound of someone asking for her weapon. Besides, she’d had her knife since the prison. Using it felt like second nature, and she’d be loathe to give it up. “I thought you’d be willing to help me…” ”I am,” the woman, not much older than Carol, assured. “But seems we’re running low on weapons lately. And now that the communities are bartering and bargaining with each other, it’s kinda the rule. I can help you—and I will. Today, since that’s what you want.—but it’ll cost you the knife. Been needin’ something I can hold on to when I’m out there running and fighting. It’s easy to lose your weapon. Suppose that’s why you got a knife with a knuckle guard. Seems that’d suit me just fine.”

Carol eyed Margaret cautiously, furiously debating in her heart whether to give up the knife that had nearly become a part of her or simply walk away. There were others Carol could ask to assist her with her gift for Daryl, but she’d seen Margaret’s supplies and handiwork firsthand, and no one would do a better job. She couldn’t mess this up. Not over a knife. Not when she could just as easily use or claim one of Alexandria’s many knives as her own.

Daryl—and his Christmas present—meant more to her than any hunk of metal.

“Deal,” she conceded, removing the knife and its worn-out sheath from her belt loop.

Margaret turned the weapon over in her hand, then gripped it for good measure. “It’s perfect,” she noted.

Carol nodded regretfully, her mind now focused on Daryl’s gift. “So…how long do you think it’ll take to complete the project?”

“Oh, we’ll be done in a few hours,” Margaret assured her. “Now, let’s go pick out the right color.”

 *****

It hadn’t taken much to get Rick and Tara to agree to stop at the Hilltop. They wanted to check in on Maggie (he did, too) and see what, if anything, the community could spare for trade.

Daryl spent time with the woman he saw as a sister—she thrived here as the leader, and the Hilltop seemed just as healthy—before he excused himself and headed toward the line of huts against the compound’s wall.

“Hey there,” Boyd, a teenager Daryl remembered from his brief stay at the community, greeted as he approached.

“Hey,” Daryl returned, his eyes quickly roaming the three-sided shack they used for blacksmithing and hide-tanning. “Your dad around? I could use his help with somethin’.”

“Whaddya have in mind?”

Daryl spun to see Trevor, the tall, lean Southerner in his 40’s who knew more about hides and tanning than any man he’d ever met.

“Got somethin’ I was hopin’ you’d help me make. Today if possible.” Daryl described exactly what he had in mind.

“Sure will be nice,” Trevor stated. “But…it’ll take some time.”

“I’ll stay as long as it takes,” Daryl assured. “Think we can finish it today?”

“I already got the materials, but…you know I got a schedule to keep, what with the trade items for the Kingdom due soon and the snow comin’ off and on.”

“I could help you?” Daryl suggested, praying Trevor wouldn’t take him up on the offer. He much preferred the woods and hunting over a kiln and pelt work. Besides, he wanted to make it home to Carol, the sooner the better. And definitely before Christmas tomorrow like he’d promised her.

The man chuckled. “I know you ain’t any good with that stuff. You lived here for a short time, remember?”

Daryl’s mouth quirked up on one side. “Yeah, I know. Well…what can I do?”

Trevor considered it for a moment, then said, “Tell you what...I’ll help you—guaranteed we’ll get it done today—if you trade me for your vest.”

Daryl’s brows knit together. “My vest?”

“Yeah. That thing’s a rare beaut, what with those angel wings and braided panels on the sides.” Trevor leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially. “Works like a magnet on the ladies, too. I seen ‘em checkin’ it out.”

Daryl reared back slightly. “The vest?”

“Or you,” Trevor smirked. “But since I ain’t you, I’ll try the vest.”

He’d never known the vest to help him with the ladies before, and he’d had it since long before the turn. As much as his crossbow, it was almost a part of him. He hated the idea of seeing it—yet again—on someone else and thought it a steep price for what he was asking.

Still, the gift he’d have for Carol would be well worth it if she liked it half as much as he thought she might.

“Alright,” he conceded ruefully, shedding the beloved vest like a second skin. “Let’s get started. I wanna get home as soon as possible.”

 *****

Carol carefully withdrew Daryl’s gift from her knapsack and laid it on the bed. It looked perfect, the color an identical match, the handiwork exquisite, the details refined. Not a curve or stitch out of place, it would replace the old set nicely.

And she could hardly wait to present it to him.

She’d returned after nightfall to an empty house but had no doubt Daryl would make it back by tomorrow like he’d promised, as long as nothing untoward had occurred out on the road.

With one last satisfied look at the gift, she folded it up and tucked it into the small Christmas bag she’d finagled from the stash Carl had found. Downstairs, she snipped a piece of string from the kitchen catch-all drawer and tied the handles together, then set the gift on the coffee table.  

Carol hummed as she heated up a pot of lentil soup (the only kind left in the pantry), wondering where Daryl was right now. Several miles out? Approaching the gate? Walking up the street? Had they run into any trouble? Were any of them hurt? Even now, after months on end without enemies tearing at their compound, innumerable dangers abounded. Wounds and starvation, random enemies and thirst, nature and mistakes…just a few of the pitfalls that could befall them. They both worried when without the other.

She knew he and Rick would have kept track of the days, and Tara likely kept them in line with her sass and wit. Carol smiled at the thought, stirring the pot one last time before turning off the stove.

She heard the front door rattle, then Daryl’s voice reached her. “Carol?”

“In here,” she exclaimed as she rushed to the front of the house.

Daryl barely had time to close the door before Carol threw herself into his arms. She radiated warmth in contrast to the biting cold outside that had seeped into his clothes and his bones. “Hey,” he murmured against her hair, wrapping his arms snugly around her.

“Hi.”

Her breath teased his ear, and he nuzzled into her embrace, gently kissing her neck.

She felt like home: safe, warm, welcoming. Unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Each time he left or she set out somewhere, his arms—his heart—felt bereft. But coming home to her, reuniting with her after an absence, made up for all the lonely days, frigid nights, and dastardly deeds he had to endure to get back to her.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” he answered as he withdrew to give her the once-over. “How ‘bout here?”

“Status quo.” She looked up at him, this man she loved. His bright eyes stared heatedly at her, his cheeks pink from the cold. He looked tired but no worse for the wear of having been gone for nearly a week. “You made it back for Christmas.”

“Promised you I would,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss her.

Even now, after months of being with her, allowed to kiss her, hold her, touch her, love her, she made his blood boil, his heart race, and he didn’t know how this hell of a world granted him the treasure of loving Carol.

His lips, like the rest of him, were cold, but firm as she welcomed him home, and she sunk into his embrace, pressed herself against the solid wall of his chest. Unlike those who’d come before, the breadth of his shoulders, the strength of his arms, the muscles of his chest, the rapid beat of his heart sent a thrill through her instead of a ripple of fear. She doubted she’d ever get used to the haven of his embrace.

“Merry Christmas to me,” she pronounced as he pulled away.

He chuckled, the pink in his cheeks deepening slightly, and he kissed her forehead. “To me,” he corrected. “But let me shower this week off’a me and we can get back to the merry-making.” He winked at her.

“Then hurry it up,” she encouraged, lightly pushing in the direction of the stairs. “Merry isn’t all I’d like to be making.”

“Impatient, aren’t ya?” he teased over his shoulder.

“Oh, I’m patient,” she punned. “Been waiting for a week now. I’m tired of being patient.”

She heard him chortle as he headed up the stairs, and a smile spread across her face at their banter, her heart light and happy.

She turned the soup back on to simmer, keeping it warm for them, and toasted some of the bread they’d bartered from the Kingdom. She couldn’t make him a feast after his trek, but she could have a warm meal ready.

Fifteen minutes later, Daryl’s footsteps sounded on the stairs, and he came into the room, looking clean and refreshed, his hair wet. He’d donned black sweat pants, a long sleeve, dark blue shirt, and a clean pair of socks.

“Somethin’ smells good,” he complimented, turning toward the stove and peeking into the pot in order to hide the gift he’d brought down with him.

“I think that’s you,” Carol stated, running her hand across his back as she moved around him to grab bowls from the cabinet.

He turned as she moved, heading toward the living room, but stopped abruptly when he saw a small gift already sitting on the coffee table. Unsure who else would’ve brought Carol a present—she deserved them all, but times what they were, he hadn’t expected anyone else to go out of their way—he did a one-eighty and stood watching her.

Unaware of her audience, Carol set the bowls on the counter, withdrew spoons from the drawer, and began ladling soup into the bowls. “I made dinner.” She looked over her shoulder, unsure where Daryl had gone, and did a double-take when she saw him standing watching her, one hand behind his back.

She stood up, facing him. “What?”

He cleared his throat and slowly stepped toward her. “I…got you somethin’.” He withdrew the gift from behind him as he neared her, watching her face for her response.

Carol’s eyes slid over the gently-wrapped present, the simple tan cloth giving away a two-inch thick, one-foot long shape, before sliding up to Daryl.

“Merry Christmas,” he declared.

Her face broke out into a smile that reached her eyes, and his heart sped up. “You didn’t have to… I can’t believe you did this.”

Pleased by her genuine joy, he held the gift out to her, and she reverently took it, sliding down into one of the dining room chairs. He sat in the chair next to her, and they half-turned toward one another.

Carol gently pulled the strings of twine until the bow untied, slid it off the package, then unrolled the cloth from a sanded pine box. Her eyes, a question mark, flicked to his, but he remained silent, waiting for her to open the box.

She snapped open the latch and lifted the lid to find a knife sheath, tan in color, with a belt attachment. Carol picked the sheath up to get a better look at the brand on the long, blade-end.

A Cherokee rose.

Daryl watched emotions play across Carol’s face. Surprise, curiosity, awe, then…sadness as she noticed the rose?

His heart fell. For so long, he’d imagined the Cherokee rose as their…thing. A symbol of hope, it’d become a marker of them, their relationship. From Sophia and that grave he still thanked the Powers That Be was empty, to a blackened forest and the memory of all that white-petaled flower represented to him. To them, he’d thought. But now tears filled her eyes, and…well…he felt at a loss.

He watched her eyes slide up to the lighter brand, more of a drawing than an impression in the leather, and she held the sheath closer to her face. Recognition dawned as she took in the monochrome rainbow, and she grasped the sheath to her chest in both hands, squeezing her eyes shut.

To the best of her knowledge, Daryl didn’t do leatherwork. He’d gone out of his way to make this. And the added details of the Cherokee rose and the rainbow…her heart broke at the time and effort he must’ve spent to make such a wonderful gift. And she couldn’t even use it.

Daryl sat, riveted to the chair and so confused he was afraid to breathe. He thought for sure she’d like it. Personalized and safer than that old raggedy one she had now with the seams falling apart, he knew it’d keep her safe and her knife handy. He hadn’t meant to hurt her with the symbols…only to keep Sophia and him with her, close to her. A sort of…talisman of protection.

He swallowed hard, believing he’d made a colossal mistake. “Carol…I…I’m sorry. I just…”

“It’s gorgeous.”

Her voice came softly, filled with wonder, and he sat in silence once again.

She stared at him, his body tense with uncertainty, and she realized what he must be thinking. “I love it,” she whispered, her voice still filled with tears. She looked at the sheath once again. “The Cherokee rose…us. And the rainbow…Sophia. So you’ll both always be with me. Protecting me.”

Daryl felt relief sweep into his body. She didn’t hate it, understood it just as much as he’d wanted and hoped.

“It’s…amazing. I love it. But…”

But…? His heart fell again, afraid of what she’d say.

“Daryl, I…I don’t have my knife anymore.”

Of the many scenarios that had quickly crossed his mind, that wasn’t one of them. He shook his head, clearing away cobwebs. “Whaddya mean you don’t have your knife?”

Carol set the sheath back in the box and, without a word, got up, retrieved the gift bag from the coffee table, and set it in front of him. “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

Her words, though stained with tears, sounded genuine, but Daryl still gave her a quizzical look as she wiped tears from her face.

“Open your present,” she entreated.

None of this made sense, but Daryl dutifully untied the twine from the bag and removed a handful of neatly-folded, flaxen-colored material. He raised his eyebrows as he unfolded it to reveal angel wings. Wings that looked exactly like the ones on the vest he’d just traded.

Just before he’d left, Carol had told him exactly what she thought of that vest. “Those wings are starting to fray,” she’d said as he’d thrown it on.

“They’ll be alright,” he assured himself more than her. “Cain’t exactly go to the store and get another. Or the tailor and get ‘em repaired.”

“No…but I can’t imagine you without them. You’ve always been there to swoop in and bring me back to safety.”

He’d met her gaze. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Just seems like any time I was too far gone or on the brink, you’d come in and bring me back to myself…and you. Like my own personal angel.”

He’d leaned to kiss her then. “Ain’t no angel.” Another kiss. “But I’ll be back soon, and I’ll take you to heaven.”

She giggled as he kissed her again. “See you soon,” he’d promised, then he’d headed out the door to go meet Rick and Tara.

Now, he stared at the details of the wings, the arches of the tops, the layers of feather-work, the long, swooping plumes that would’ve covered most of his back. An exact replica of the wings that adorned the vest he’d given up to ‘buy’ her sheath.

“It’s only part of the gift,” Carol explained. “I’ll remove the old ones and affix these.” She saw his reserved hesitation. “If you want…?”

Daryl gently laid them out on the table, admiring the handiwork, the details, the thought she’d put into this. And hated the words he spoke next.

“I don’t have my vest anymore.” Before the shock on her face wore off and she could ask, he said, “I bartered the vest for the sheath. Wanted to give you somethin’ nice for Christmas. It’s our first…ya know, together.” He took her hand in his. “And I know that sheath you got is comin’ apart. Afraid you’re gonna accidentally get stabbed. And I’d like to keep you around for a good, long while.”

He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

“Oh, Daryl. I traded my knife for the wings. I wanted your gift to be special, too. I know how much you love that vest—and I do, too. I just want my angel around.”

With her free hand, she pushed the hair away from his face and laced her fingers through his now-dry locks.

“What a pair we are, huh?” Daryl scoffed, stunned that they’d both bartered away the exact items the other had gotten a gift for.

She nodded, a small smile playing at her lips. “I guess so. But this is still the best Christmas ever.”

He quirked his head. “How so?”

“You gave up your most prized possession for me. I gave up mine for you. And the gifts we got one another? Here? At the end of the world?” She raised her tone with each question, indicating how ridiculous it should’ve sounded. Instead, it made perfect sense: the two of them, together, giving up all they had for one another. “Look how much love we have.”

He nodded, conceding her point. “’Spose so.” Then, his expression turning playful, he leaned toward her. “And there’s more where that came from.”

“That’s right…you promised me a trip to heaven.”

“Ummhmm,” he murmured against her lips, and proceeded to take her there with touches as soft as rose petals and angel wings.

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