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mxrecg · 9 months

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True Love vs Infatuation | Gojo x Reader

Summary: Gojo loves nothing more than spending time with you, even if it only consists of doing the most mundane of things. It wasn't until today, you realized just how much Gojo Satoru loves you.

Pairing: High School Gojo x YN

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2.4k

A/n: Imma be so honest idk wtf this is but I wrote it a hellaaa long time ago. So bc JJK s2 is out I thought why not post this drabble I wrote a long ass time ago. I also genuinely think this prolly isn't how canon Gojo would act but bruh I tried!! Anyways enjoy

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Incandescent fireflies painted the dark sky with small flakes of light, creating an enriched serene atmosphere for reading.

So there you sat cross-legged, outside your balcony, fully engrossed by the book you were reading.

You slowly became hypnotised by the words allocated within the pages of the novel you were reading.

As your eyes further loomed through the pages and comprehended the context, your eyebrows furrowed in irritation and cuss words occasionally left your lips.

Lost and captivated by the words decorating the interior pages of the book, you paid no mind to the snoring boy who laid down on your lap.

You continued reading the story. Book in your dominant hand; whereas, the other one gently massaged the scalp of the teenage boy on your lap.

Page after page began to turn, and soon enough you’ve reached the final page… to say you were disappointed was an understatement.

Angered at the ending, you immediately slammed the book down on a coffee table and debated on whether or not you should ignite it on fire for illustrating such a realistic yet heartbreaking ending.

Your sudden outburst lured the teenage boy out of his sleep, and he groaned, carelessly rubbing his eyes during his tired state.

“Did one of your favourite manga boys die again?” he asked, now fully sitting up and stretching his arms.

“You’re not entirely wrong,” you aggravatedly muttered.

“Then tell me what’s aggravating your pretty self and giving you wrinkles,” he stated and you didn’t even bother showing your irritation to the latter comment.

You took a deep breath, turned your head and he watched as your eyes became livid as you recited the vast difference of each character’s milieu and how their fate perfectly intertwined with one another.

Your hands doing all sorts of motions, in an attempt to exemplify your extreme dislike and sadness of the poetic story you read.

A story involving two individuals who unconsciously were ameliorating each other’s lives.

“It’s infuriating Satoru!! Did these two airheads even love each other?? It hasn’t even been like 24 hours and the girl is already marrying the man who was bawling his eyes over another girl- love of my life my ass,”

Satoru listened to your outburst intently, smiling at the sounds of your melodic voice.

You let out a small huff of frustration, before finally ending your rant and the tears suddenly cascaded down your pale skin, “That being said, the author is able to write damn well.”

Satoru only laughed quietly, wiping away your stray tears with his right hand, “I thought you hated sad romantic books? Why would you willingly choose to read Shakespere? At least watch the movie instead,” he replied and began playing with your hair.

His reply caught you off guard and you tilted your head in confusion, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You know what book I’m talking about?” you asked incredulously.

“Yes… why do you look so shocked?” he asked, continuing to brush the threads of your h/l h/c hair, “It’s Romeo and Juliet, how could I not know? I swear Shoto was straight up fangirling about the movie actor-Da Vinci!!”

“Da Vinci?” you replied, flicking his forehead and trying to hide your growing amusement, causing the man to pout his lips, “How the hell would a painter act? A dead painter at that.”

“No- no Leonardo Da Vinci the actor-”

It took every fibre in you to not burst out laughing at the moron in front of you, “My love, listen to me carefully- it's Di Caprio. Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa.”

The man in front of you scoffed at your reply.

“Da Vinci. Di Caprio, who cares. They’re both Leo’s involved in the art industry of the world. You must admit though, neither of them compare to me!” he said proudly.

“I don’t know…. Leonardo Di Caprio does seem to have a lot of fangirls right now…. I mean have you seen him in Romeo and Juliet? Or better yet, Titanic?”

The man only poked the interior of his cheek with his tongue, scowling at you as you laughed.

“The real question is though- did you read the book?”

“Yes,” he let out, not missing a beat.

“The Satoru Gojo reads? The world must be ending,” you teased, clasping one of his hands and using your other hand to caress his cheek.

Satoru didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned into your hand and softly smiled.

His eyes soon twinkled into amusement, as an idea struck him.

Noticing the change of his behaviour, you lifted an eyebrow to display your confusion. Satoru remained silent and instead flipped you over, so that your back was pressed against the couch.

He smirked, straddling your hips and began tickling your sides.

Squirming under his touch, you burst into fits of laughter, “T-toru…. S-stop….” you tried to breathe out, “Gojo- p-please hahahaha.”

Your pleas only encouraged him to tickle you faster, and you soon began to kick your feet, thrashing beneath the man as if your strength could overpower his.

“Say Gojo Satoru is the strongest person in the world,” he smiled, continuing his attack.

“I’d rather die,” you said in between heaps of laughter.

The man poked the interior of his cheek before smirking at you, a playful smile adorning his face as he continued with his attack.

“Being tickled to death. Hm that seems new, I’ll discard your body so don’t worry, suit yourself,” he replied and grazed his fingers at your newly exposed skin, since your shirt slowly began to ride up above your navel.

“Ok ok… Gojo… is the… strongest person….”

“Go on, continue,” he encouraged.

Despite the laughter escaping your lips, forcing your eyes shut, you already sensed the cockiness behind his words and you immediately laughed harder when you thought of something that would catch him off guard.

“Gojo- i-is… the… strongest….” you stuttered out.

“Altogether, now, state the full name,” he stated. Although, it seemed more like a command than a request.

“OK!! Gojo Y/n is the strongest person in the world,” you spurred out in one quick breath.

Impressed with the turn of events and his lack of words, you could not help but smirk- considering you made this cocky guy lose his demeanour.

His tickling immediately ceased, his irises resembling a deer caught in the headlights, and his mouth slowly falling open.

Gojo was in disbelief, as he tried to ensure his hearing wasn’t deteriorating and the words that escaped your mouth not too long ago were not a part of his mere illusive imagination.

Before he could recover and say some snide snarky remark, you grabbed Satoru’s shirt, pulling him down with you against the cushions of the couch you resided on.

The action took him by surprise, but he didn't refuse and instead grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, with his arms eventually caging you beneath him.

He licked your bottom lip, and you found yourself parting your mouth slightly, both your tongues intertwining with one another.

Caressing your cheek, he then began to angle your head more towards the left, and did not hesitate to bite your bottom lip shortly after.

You hissed at the new sensation, and Gojo immediately attempted to alleviate the now burning sensation on your lips by running his lips over the new forming bruise.

You were the first to pull back to breathe. As the both of you attempted to even out your breathing, one of your hands caressed his dusted pink cheeks, while the other one removed his sunglasses, revealing those piercing icy blue eyes you fell in love with.

He looked at you with such love and adoration that you could not help but feel butterflies swarming around your stomach.

Your e/c eyes looked up at his illuminating bright blue ones and you smiled, “I’m the strongest person in the world, Toru.”

“That you are,” he replied, kissing your nose.

“You’re not even going to rebuttal and be the cocky bastard you usually are?” You questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the strongest… The strongest doesn’t necessarily mean having the most power. It’s your character. Plus you got me… not just anyone could make me fall in love with them. You have my tall ass whipped around your finger.”

You stared at your boyfriend, in awe and bursted out laughing. “We’re both strong. How about that?”

“Mhm. We’re the top two strongest special grade sorcerers to exist, and for the next century to come” he muttered and buried himself into your neck, as he was now fully lying down on you.

You laughed at his reply, “Your best friend might not like that statement so much,”

“... I mean you’re also my best friend and technically you’re stronger than him, not by a longshot but still stronger nonetheless… and I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he mumbled and kissed your neck.

You quietly hummed in reply, and began to softly hymn the songs of a soft lullaby.

Satoru was still lying on top of you, and as the melody escaped your lips, your fingers threaded his soft white hair.

Gojo Satoru was at peace. This cocky bastard was like putty in your hands, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

To others his exterior forecasted a childish, arrogant and conceited individual. One who would blatantly show his dislike to those who he did not give an ounce of care for.

And to the shaman and other sorcerers who only knew his name, he was a force to be reckoned with and feared.

But to you, he was only Gojo Satoru.

“Y/n?” he called out softly.

“Yeah?”

“You know, I love you, right?” his face may have been hiding in your neck, but you could feel him smiling.

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden comment, but even you couldn’t stop the smile threatening to form, “I know. And I love you too, forever and always,”

“You didn’t lie though earlier,” he randomly stated, “One day, your new name will become Gojo Y/n.”

“Satoru…” you whispered, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“One day, I’ll marry you… and when we’re older you'll become the mother of our children.”

“One day Satoru, one day,” you replied, kissing his temple. “By the way, since when did you even read- romance books?”

You felt his breathing hitch and he slowly pried himself off of you, aimlessly scratching the back of his head.

“Uhm… like two years ago?”

“Why though?”

“About two years ago, there was a new transfer student. I noticed she was eloquently spoken, especially in English-”

“Eloquently spoken??” You asked, trying to suppress your laughter.

“Shut up and let me finish,”

You covered your mouth and smiled.

“Anyways, I was coming back from a mission and stuffing my face with an assortment of sweets. Then I heard you and Shoko talking about romance novels, and how you liked guys that read… so the first book I picked up was some corny romance manga and then I read Romeo and Juliet. Shitty book that I barely understood but happy ending I guess.”

“So you only started reading because you overheard me talk about it?” you pinched his cheeks, “Aw, first year Gojo Satoru was so whipped and in love, how sweet”

Satoru only rolled his eyes at your statement, and you bursted out laughing as you remembered his attempts to woo you back in your first year.

“I thought you barely had any hobbies?” you asked.

“I don’t. Because I’m good at everything.”

“Yet you still chose to pick up reading of all things?” you slightly laughed.

“I would pick up any hobby if you asked me to, honestly.”

“No offence, but if that is where you got your romance from you did a shitty job, love.” you giggled.

“Ouch,” he replied, “But hey it went pretty well, you’re mine now anyways.”

“That you are,” You replied, kissing his nose. “So if you read the book and I assume you also watched the movie, do you understand my pain?”

“100% Romeo is an airhead. He was probably just horny and infatuated with the first female he saw,” he bluntly stated and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud, Satoru joining in on your laughter.

As your laughs began to die down he continued, “On a serious note though… Whether or not it was love, their actions prove that they did love each other. I guess love really does make you blind, their suicide only proved that.”

“Tragic ending?”

“Not really… in a way, I believe it’s a happy ending- that is, assuming those two airheads were actually in love with each other.”

“Did you not hear me muttering cuss words when reading and slamming the book? If you asked me, that book was nothing but aggravating and sad.”

“Sad as their death was, it was a happy ending. They claimed to have met their soulmate and the love of their life before they died. Not everyone gets that luxury you know?”

You looked at your boyfriend with both amazement and confusion, “Since when were you so wise?”

“I don’t even know, love. But I’m not wrong…. Our story would be much happier though, because neither of us are gonna die.”

“You spoke nothing but the truth,” you quietly replied and the two of you began leaning into each other once again.

“Who knew Satoru could be such a wise lil baby,” said a voice, laughing.

The two of you immediately pulled away, and looked up to see no one other than Geto Suguru, the poor third wheeler of your relationship.

“Suguru… how long have you been there for?” you asked.

“Enough to know that this man loves you way too much… to the point where he knows his feelings for you aren’t infatuation but solid feelings.”

While you were a blushing mess, Gojo only smiled and smacked his best friend on his back, “Okay enough chit chat, why don’t we all get something to eat, yeah? I suggest-”

“Steak. We’re eating steak tonight at that new restaurant. You both are paying. It’s the least you could do for making me witness such crap.”

“You’re just mad because you’re single, bro”

“Ain’t that the truth,” you agreed.

“Shut the actual fuck, both of you lovebirds.”

The three of you then laughed and made your way to the restaurant of Suguru’s choice.

A/n: So any thoughts? I hope you all liked it <3 Ngl, this does have another part to it, but idk if I'll ever post it tbh. Follow me on my ao3 account I have other ffs there too @idekmxre

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #yn #jujutsu sorcerer #fanfic #character x reader #fluff #jjk fluff #established relationship #fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujustu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen season 2

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alle-ni · 7 months

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My thoughts about goodomensverse (I'm clinically insane) (my personal opinion) (long post)

Book Crowley:

- absolute disaster

- lonely boy

- grumpiest

- he's so in love with Aziraphale but didn't even realised yet

- a bit dumb sometimes ngl

- very tired

- he's trying so hard save earth and everything he knows but everytime he tries to explain why it's always AZIRAPHALE

- sometimes he's like... your old gay uncle, the old gay uncle of the family except it's a 6000 years old gender fluid demon

- HISS LIKE A SNAKE GANG

- got called dear once and them died (figuratively)

Radio Crowley:

- flirty

- "Humm have you ever seen me in a dress~~??"

- he's like flirting with Aziraphale 24/7

- 0 patience this man is a BOMB

- if Aziraphale ever EVER got slightly flirty with him back he will EXPLODE

- smartest of them all, he's very intelligent

- HISS LIKE A SSSSSNAKE GANG

- he's so in love with Aziraphale and it makes him SO FRUSTRATED

- his Aziraphale is the hardest one to reach, maybe this is why he's so deliberately obvious and direct with him (he's resilient, he will never give up)

- he's like a tsudere teenager collegial except he's a 6000 years old demon with serious issues

- not called dear yet poor soul </3

TV Crowley:

- SILLY

- he's the dumbest of them all, sorry 😭

- red hair

- he's so in love with Aziraphale and everyone notice it's SO OBVIOUS

- he's the most affected by The Bookshop Burning ™ event

- the only one who got to kiss the angel, good for him ig, or sorry, idk

- anxiety bomb he literally (literally) EXPLODE

- strongest soldier bc his Aziraphale is IMPOSSIBLE

- got dumped 2 times more than the others someone pls help him

- the most brave tho

- doesn't hiss a lot :/ free him from this madness let him hiss

- he's like a puppy with giant yellow eyes except it's a 6000 years old snake demon that lies all the time

- protective as hell this man wouldn't let anyone near Aziraphale if possible

- got called dear but at what cost??????????????

Book Aziraphale:

- Anxious all the time, religious trauma except the god is your father and he left you and never talk to you again and the guard angels are your siblings and they want you do be dead

- He's so soft he wants so bad to comfort Crowley but he's really hard to reach

- his Crowley is the most difficult of all of them, he needs to circle him a lot to get in touch

- this man got called names so often I don't think he even cares anymore

- he's very nerdy

- he's the calmest of them all

- really chill

- everyone is so mean to him for no reason

- he has 1 braincell tbh and it's really bad bc his Crowley is not that brilliant too they're both stupid sometimes

- he really REALLY wants to be with Crowley and Crowley only, he sounds almost obligated to be with heaven

- he is really kind to others even when they don't deserve

- he called Crowley dear once and then implode

Radio Aziraphale:

- full of himself

- bastard

- the most closed and oblivious of them all

- he tries to play cool with Crowley all the time (he's slowly getting insane and someday he will jump on this man)

- he's the most self sufficient one he barely holds on Crowley to anything and they're pretty independent

- Crowley can say shit like "Miss me angel~~??" and he would keep a bored face and not react at all (he screamed with the walls 4 hours later)

- he's also a tsudere collegial but he at least try to look cool and composed in public

- he's the Aziraphale that most believes in heaven, he's sure they are good and selfless and the right side

- he's not so brilliant tbh but he got a lot of spirit

- the most active Aziraphale ?? He really put his hand in the dirt and do the things alone

- the most angry and bad tempered of them all, bro scream "WE ARE CLOSED LOOK AT THE DAMN SIGN" when ppl barely touch the bookshop door

- he has a lot of patience with Crowley, not deserved tbh bc he thinks it's his personal job to get in Aziraphale's nerves

- overall he is polite

- he's really proud of their "arrangement" there not only one chance he let go without saying that

- he likes to provoke Crowley sometimes too but not as much as the other way around

- if he ever call Crowley dear he will explode

TV Aziraphale:

- bitchiest

- this man need to be sedated what the fuck Aziraphale

- most nuts of then all he's CRAZY

- he's the most up to do shit with Crowley they're insane together

- he doesn't let Crowley rest he is flirting and being cute and hitting on Crowley all the time

- he's so obviously in love with Crowley its embarrassing

- he's the fruitiest he's the entire salad

- the most... indulgent, if I can say, of them all

- more like an employer of heaven, different of book Aziraphale

- he's the only one with almost white hair

- he got kissed but at what cost

- he's the most intelligent of all of them how can he be this dumb

- he loves little things about earth and humans and life and he seems to be the Aziraphale that most love EARTH itself, like, the life, the humans, the food, the little pleasures we have, the little time of happiness we have between all the shit that is happening... he really loves humans <3

- he's conflicted about heaven, he seems to know that there's something WRONG with how heaven works but still doesn't understand what exactly it is

- "oh but saving me makes him soooo happyyyy~~~"

- overall kind and sweet, in a excited way

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #crowley #Aziraphale #radio omens #good omens radio #good omens book #thats my opinion #more like some thoughts i have been collecting since im hearing radio omens #not really accurate #does this count as character study????#lol I think not #maybe i have a preference for radio Aziraphale i wrote so much more about him and ended up erasing it all bc it made me look insane #shit its 2 am I'm so sleepy

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mykoreanlove · 3 months

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Jackson on Kinjaz

Your phone was blowing up constantly.

„Oh my god, did you see this?????“, your friend asked.

With shaking hands you clicked on the link.

„I used to be critical on myself in my mind in a negative way. Not healthy. At all. I would call myself names and put myself down in my mind. I drank the most disgusting shakes for my body health but up here? I was rotting.“

„Yeah, yeah. I remember videos of that nasty shake. What did you put in there - chicken?“

„Gotta get my protein, man. But you know I would constantly feel guilty for what I have done or what I might do.“

„Like what?“

„Like. Okay, like did I practice enough? Is magic man good enough? What if I let everybody down? How will I cope? How will I live?

All these voices.. these fucking nagging voices were with me 24/7.“

„Damn that sounds tough. What did you do?“

„I thought it was impossible to fix because I tried so hard and nothing changed me. Or if it did, it would only last a couple of weeks and I’d be back to feeling like shit and talking down on myself.

Jackson, you moron, how could you do this? Did you really think you could make it? You don’t deserve this success. You don’t deserve to be happy.“

„Jackson, bro. I feel for you. Really.“

„Look, I’m just being honest. I would naturally think of punishments coming my way. I’d imagine injuring myself or loosing all my fans or money. I’d think of the most horrific shit late at night when I should be peacefully sleeping.

I would try to change my thoughts to change my feeling. I would rationalize my way out for hours to only find myself entering a new cave.“

„Like a merry go round.“

„Exactly, I was stuck. Same shit, different day. My gut always had this underlying feeling of tension.

I tried my best to give myself relief but like I said, I could not find Relief for longer than a week. Maybe a month at best.“

„Is that why you turned to alcohol? Because I remember you chugging down a bottle of Hennessy and thought to myself that’s not normal.“

„Oh, of course I started drinking more. I needed more. What used to make me pass out back then is like a cute little cocktail to me now.“

„Damn, that really is a lot to handle. Did you try other things, as well?“

„Look, I tried everything in the book. You name it, I tried it. Worked out. Meditated. Drank. Had sex. Nothing could give me what I craved so badly. Nothing. Until I found her.“

You swallowed hard.

You had no idea that he would share all this with the public. You were very well aware of his struggles but hearing him talk about them upset you. It broke your heart imagining him like that, all dim and broken.

Also, it made you nervous.

You had no idea that he would introduce you into the world like this.

You had no idea that he would reveal your relationship to his homies on a podcast.

Yet, you were intrigued.

„Her as in …?“

„You see, love is a funny thing, right? I didn’t plan to fall in love, nor did I want to but I kind of did. I found the one, man. I found the love of my life and I was lucky enough to have her love me back. Do you know how rare that is?“

„Yeah, it is for you. I remember our last interview and how we wanted to get you on tinder and shit.“

„Exactly! I used to be on my own for years. Years, man. I gave up on love completely, thinking this was meant for others but certainly not me. And then she came into my life. Like an angel that was coming down to help me. Save me even.“

„Your savior, huh?“

„I swear to god her love saved me. It saved me from drugs, it saved me from self destruction and first and foremost it saved me from myself. I gotta be honest man, if I hadn’t met y/n I wouldn’t even be here anymore.“

„Wow. That’s, that’s a pretty heavy revelation. I’m glad you’re doing better now.“

„Oh, I am. Management is probably going to kick my ass later but I don’t care. Let me loose fans, let me loose money. I don’t give a shit. If you support me now, you support the real Jackson Wang. And that’s me right now - happily coupled to the most beautiful soul on this planet. If you can’t handle that - my bad.“

„Okay guys, it’s over. China‘s most wanted bachelor is officially off the market. WHOOOO!!“

„Yeah, the king has finally found its queen.“

„So, what is she like?“

You paused the interview and took a deep breath. Jackson was very vocal of his feelings for you, but hearing it like that felt different. The biggest smile was plastered on his face as he was talking about you.

You as in his queen.

You as in future Miss Wang.

Hundreds of butterflies announced themselves in your stomach, making you giddy and joyful.

„Oh man, she is the best. Like, she is so breathtakingly beautiful. Inside and out. We have the best conversations. I feel like she is my best friend. Truly, no one gets me like she does. It’s just.. it’s effortlessly easy. We laugh a lot, we talk a lot, we share everything with each other. I’m just so grateful, man.“

„Yeah, I can see that. You’re grinning from ear to ear. Make sure to invite me to your wedding.“

„Like you invited me to your birthday?“

„Okayyyyy, let’s wrap it up. Guys, that’s it for today. Thank you Jackson, really appreciate you brother.“

You stopped the video, giggling at your petty boyfriend.

„Remind me to have a word with you once you’re back, yeah?“, you texted him.

It didn’t take him a second to instantly call you.

„Did you see it? Already? Damn babygirl, you’re quick“, he teased.

„You could have warned me, Wang!“

„I didn’t plan to say all that but I couldn’t help myself. It just.. it just came out of me. I really meant it though.“

„Everything?“

He knew exactly what you were implying.

„Oh, I’m gonna make you Miss Wang for sure. Rule my kingdom with me? Please?“

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qawcamiz · 1 year

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Can I request for alhaitham fanfic where sensitive!reader agreed to prank alhaitham for whole day but immediately failed cuz alhaitham beaten them to it? (wouldn't mind a little spice :3)

ignoring him prank – Al Haitham

synopsis ; you were dared by none other than your friend, Nilou, to ignore your boyfriend for 24 hours, as the day proceeded by, you eventually accepted that dating someone and having the person you held dear better than your life be unable to talk to with is complicated, you had been doing slightly fine at neglecting him, but you could no longer maintain yourself from being drawn back into him when he began passing over you too.

warnings ; bittersweet, slight spice, teasing, kissing, BRUH MAKING OUT

notes ; this might be shitty written I wrote this when I was half drunk 🧍🏻‍♀️

ignoring alhaitham is probably the worst prank you'll ever do, the prank had started and it was requested by nilou herself.

but it's like the table has flipped! it's YOU suppose to be ignoring alhaitham for the rest of the day, but he's also ignoring you and focusing on his books instead.

you've never felt third-wheel in your whole life! this morning you cooked breakfast before starting the prank, and he didn't even say a word to you at all! 'is he also pranking me??? how dare he!'

you couldn't help but feel saddened, you wanna kiss and hug him, 'stupid nilou!!!!!'

"What?" you turned around to see alhaitham sitting behind you, with those beautiful emerald eyes you can stare into forever.

you were so caught up with your thoughts you almost forgot that he asked you something.

you continued the prank, you crossed your arms and pouted, trying to act annoyed.

alhaitham rolled his eyes at you and continued reading his book, you were shocked! 'did my baby just rolled his pretty eyes at me?!' you wanted nothing more than to smack him.

you kept your cool, this situation was funny for alhaitham but you were frustrated! he could've done better with this prank.

I mean, it wasn't even funny anymore! and you were going impatient, the urge to speak first is hard!

he should know that he's gonna get a good slap from you. "u-um..." you tried to find words, 'how am I supposed to say what I want to say now?'

alhaitham looked at you for a second then sat up to go to the bedroom. 'damn it! no no no! I'm not gonna tear up! stupid stupid stupid prank stupid alhaitham!' you smacked your head.

'why was he doing this to me? this isn't fair!! you sighed and, you lay on the couch staring at the ceiling. "alhaitham... my love..."

you bit your lip, this was probably the last thing you'd ever prank him. he'll probably laugh at you.

"...Alhaitham..." you whispered his name again. your mind started spinning, it got louder and louder as time went by.

the longer you stared at the ceiling, the louder you thought 'fuck it.' you're really stupid! if only you had never agreed to start this stupid prank! now look at where we are.' you stood up. 'this is my fault anyway, I shouldn't have agreed to it... this is all my fault!'

the tears fell from your face, and you felt so weak. 'darn it why am I crying!' you sat up from the couch, and went to your shared room.

the door was wide open, you found alhaiham with earphones on and his back facing you. you walked quietly to him and hugged him from behind, wrapping your hands around his waist.

you could tell he was surprised to see you hugging him but still didn't react. 'damn it!!' you felt humiliated! you let out a sob, which made alhaitham turn around.

he chuckled, "are you done pranking me?"

he reached for the headphones and removed them slowly, his face softened when he saw you crying. he put the headphones down and held you tightly, rocking you back and forth.

"sorry... I just couldn't do it..." you sniffled a few more times, before letting out a loud sigh of contentment.

"you seriously can't talk to me at least for a day?" you wiped off some of your tears and pulled away from him a little. you glared at him and pouted slightly, making him chuckle.

"It's not funny." you playfully hit him lightly.

"yes, it is." he gave you a small smile and kissed your forehead, causing you to blush a deep red. "can you... kiss me?" you stuttered a little.

"don't want to." he joked. you gave him a dirty glare, "alright then.... I guess I'll leave." you pouted again, wiping another tear from your face. before you could leave the bed you felt him grab onto your wrist and push you to bed.

he climbed on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head. "I can give you more than that," he whispered.

you smiled softly and looked at his handsome features; it was rare to see him so serious for once. your heart began to race as he leaned closer to your neck.

"don't stop please." you pleaded. he smirked and placed a soft kiss on your neck, "if you keep begging me, I might..."

you blushed and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his lips against your skin. "alhaitham..." you moaned. "hmm?" he hummed. "I missed you," you breathed. he smiled again and moved his head lower, kissing your collarbone.

"We live in the same house though." he teased. you shook your head gently, "so?" you pulled his head towards yours and pressed a quick kiss on his lips.

your lips lingered for a moment before pulling apart. "I hate you... you're the one who's been avoiding me all day!" you exclaimed, trying to sound angry, "and the way you left whilst ignoring me or not even saying goodbye? you're lucky I didn't throw the kettle at your head!"

he laughed, "I just did what you did," he grinned at you, and you rested your hand on his cheek, stroking his face tenderly. "I ain't moving on with that prank... even if it means I gotta stay up half the night thinking of new ways to piss you off..." you muttered while laughing quietly.

"you're such an asshole." you groaned and threw a pillow at him. you laughed harder before returning the pillow to its place. "you deserve it!" you shouted, he cocked his head to the side with a grin. "well," he grabbed hold of your chin and placed one last peck on your lips, "you'll get it." he said sweetly, leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline.

you tilted your head forward, letting your lips linger with his, 'now it's my turn to annoy you.' he pulled away after a few seconds, looking at you through hooded eyes. "I love you," you whispered, knowing he would tease you with some cheesy shit about being sappy.

you expected him to laugh it off, but he stayed quiet and continued gazing at you with adoration. he pulled you closer to him and buried his face in your neck.

he mumbled 'i love you too... so much...' before resting his chin on top of your head. KAKDKWKFKJWJZJWJSNWBBDBQJSJW

idk why but dang this rlly got me, there's no way im having a QLEKNWNENWNEmoment with this its so?#!#! hes hot

anyways js got scara feelin good rn

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #angst #al haitam x reader #al haitham #al haitham smut #genshin alhaitham #genshin al haitham #genshin x reader #fluff #bittersweet

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cressthebest · 24 days

Text

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 5

chapter 9:

1. OMG DID REMUS FORGET TO GO BACK TO HIS CELL WAIT HOLY SHIT THIS ISNT GONNA BE GOOD

2. oh good wait, remus left and came back

3. sirius’ first thought is to brush his teeth to kiss sirius 😭😭 he’s so me fr. i wouldn’t let my ex kiss me unless they brushed their teeth first. or had a mint. im so sensitive to smells

4. “He used to build things. Create things. And now he's lucky if he doesn't destroy what's already formed.” JESUS FUCK. THATS LITERALLY SO SAD WTF

5. 😭😭😭 sirius is literally amidst gay panic beyond your wildest comprehension and remus is just like ✨☺️😏🥱🩷🏳️‍🌈 “touch me”

BABES

6. “Remus hums. "Imagine how I feel. No one's touched me without causing me pain in five years."” NOOOO BABY

7. god, wolfstar deserves everything. the best wolfstar content i find is always in a fic that is centered on another ship. i could literally survive off wolfstar alone- no water, no food, no air

8. wolfstar calling each other beautiful>>>>>>>

9. 😬 what did sirius jsut say. i must be going crazy. cause there’s no way he just said he needed to brush his teeth

10. wolfstar deserves the world universe

11. reg is no longer a pathetic teen with a crush, he’s a pathetic adult with a crush

12. reg being grumpy even in his sleep <33333

13. james having a pathetic crush on reg while cuddling together is top tier

14. there really needs to be an emoji to accurately show the face i just made. it probably looks similar to this- 😀😟 what. there’s no way reg is about to tease james, just to get his old 14 year old self off

15. 😀😀 girl what is he doing. i-

16. how he became freinds with barty is so crimson rivers canon, i can’t even. like, i KNOW that it’s canon. but it’s also canon that bizzarestars was right about. no author mistakes in that piece

17. damn, reg is actually gonna go at it. i don’t know how james is gonna survive this and make it to the actual arena.

18. “James says his name like it's the only word that has meaning. His voice is rough, and Regulus' name is sloppy and desperate in his mouth, like a hail mary or a form of salvation.” CHRIST. I SAID I DIDNT KNOW HOW JAMES WOULD SURVIVE THIS, BUT HOW THE HELL DID REG SURVIVE THIS??

19. “Barty is a good lover, there's no denying that—but he'll be damned if James isn't just better.” 😟 shocked. omg. who would have guessed this would be reggie’s thoughts

20. “"Because you might die today," Regulus tells him bluntly, shrugging one shoulder as he stands up. "Consider it a parting gift. Now, get out."”

😧

they just fucked, and all reg can do is be like “yeah yeah, now get out horny bitch” no fucking way i just read that right i-

bitch that’s foul

21. “Regulus is a conundrum, honestly.” yes. that’s the word i’d use to describe him.

22. james: don’t tell sirius that reg and i just fucked. also james: “he’s in the shower”

bitch if you could be any more obvious

23. “Remus Lupin. If there's one good thing to come out of all this, it's him.” YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY! REMUS IS THE GOOD IN THIS

24. “”James, I am so grateful to know you, and so sorry that I had to. Every name that I call is a name I wish I never learned. Yours—you—will remain etched into my heart forever."” BITCH I CANT CRY OVER THIS- MY EYE MAKEUP LOOKS TOO GOOD TODAY TO CRY

25. “"I'll see you again soon, Regulus."” BITCH WTF THAT HURTS EVEN MORE THAN JAMES’ GOODBYE

26. maybe it’s been too long since i’ve read the books, BUT this fic seems to capture the absolute tragedy and horrors of it before it even starts even more

27. christ, not reg saying the “i don’t want to go” that hurts. like holy fuck. he’s still just a scared child. don’t put him in that arena

28. god, the way the death of james feels like sirius dying too. and sirius deciding that once james is dead, sirius will be too

how the hell is this people’s comfort fic???

29. not sirius having a lapse of memory and losing his memory of his last moments with james. that shit hurts

30. fabian <3333

31. 😧 wait fabian is dead. they just shot him. holy shit

32. gideon <3333

33. wait gideon is dead too.

y’all. i just-

this whole chapter was a fucking rollercoaster.

#marauders #fanfic #regulus black #ao3 #james potter #jegulus #remus lupin #sirius and regulus #sirius black #wolfstar #crimson rivers #pandora lovegood #pandora rosier #sexy times i guess

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alexsoenomel · 1 year

Text

Adrenalize Me (Sam Winchester x Reader smut)

Summary: You have a lustful sinful thing for Sam and well so does he so stuff happens

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: rough sex, degrading king, praising kink (I’m going to hell)

Word count: 3403

Note: I wrote this while I was sexually frustrated lol based on THIS song. Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

I wanted him to show me exactly what he was capable of. I wanted him to take me right there in the library and fuck my brains out. Sadly, he wasn’t a mind reader so I had to find a way to tell him in a subtle way what I wanted; HIM NAKED IN VARIOUS POSITIONS. I have known him and his older brother for years, ever since I started hunting with them after my family was killed by a demon. I was very aware they were both blessed with good looks, but damn I couldn’t predict that I will eventually fall for Sam fucking Winchester. I wasn’t thinking about love, hell I have never been in love, it was lust running through my veins. I just knew I wanted him close to me.

Ever since I started hunting with the Winchesters few years ago, Sam was the one occupying my mind 24/7. Why? Well, lean, tall, strong and smart Sam was a hunk for sure, and pleasure for my eyes, but there was also one thing when added to the mix created chaos in my head. One night at around 2am while we were in Milwaukee working on a case ,Dean was out drinking and probably trying to get laid and I was in my room sleeping, before I was woken up by the noise and banging in Sam’s room next door. Walls in this motel were pretty thin and I don’t think Sam thought this one out.

“What the fuck?” I mumbled to myself as I turned on the night light. I could hear the girl, loud as day, screaming and moaning Sam’s name over and over again while the bed was banging against the wall which separated our rooms. It was like he did this on purpose, wanting me to hear them.

That was when Sam had poured gasoline all over me and started the damn fire. I tried not to listen, I tried to go back to sleep but curiosity go the best of me. Instead I was lying in bed, listening carefully as he was pounding into her and I must say it was so fucking hot. Who knew he was so rough and violent in the sack, he was moaning, cussing and groaning, sending me into a fucking trance. I have been with fair share of guys and I’ve never really gotten what I wanted from them. They would treat me like I’m some sort of a glass doll, broken princess, they would always go slow; and I didn’t want that. It was boring to me, I have never been interested in vanilla stuff, I was more of a fuck me until my face falls off kind of girl. Naturally when I heard Sam through the thin wall call that lucky girl whore followed by good girl I completely lost it. My panties were soaked as I shoved two fingers inside of me, pumping in and out as fast as I could, listening to what probably was the hottest music my ears had the pleasure to hear. That night I saw stars as I had the most amazing orgasm. That night I figured out what I needed- Sam Winchester. I imagined that girl saw whole galaxies that night. I knew I had to do something, especially when I haven’t had luck in the sack department for months now.

***

We were in the library trying to find us a case and I was losing my mind. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Sam. He was wearing his red and black flannel, with sleeves rolled up; showing off hands and veins......GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. I clenched my thighs as I was trying to stop myself from staring too much. He was looking something up on his laptop while Dean and I were balls deep in books and documents. Well Dean was...

“I think I found us a case. Milwaukee, five found dead in the woods, hearts missing.” Sam said.

“Milwaukee? Oh memories.”

“Werewolfs.” Dean said.

“You guys wanna go?”

“I’m in and I think Sammy here is too, considering the fact his lady friend is from Milwaukee.”What Dean said and with a damn smirk made my heart drop and my body as stiff as a statue. I thought Dean didn’t know about her. I faked a smile and turned to Sam who was kind of blushing. What if they were more than one night stand? “A lady friend Sammy?” I asked pretending to be completely oblivious.

“Uh...that was one time Dean. And how do you even know about her?” He said to his little brother clearly annoyed. “Yeah...some random girl I met in a bar after a case. “ He added but not looking at me at all.

“Well, you see, that night I went to a bar hoping, like you, to get lucky. I got back drunk and with no luck and the wall was thin so...even drunk I could still hear you. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them too (Y/N), that chick was mad loud I had to cover my face with a pillow. Gross.” He said giving his brother a clear look of disgust.

“Oh no, I was in deep state of coma.” I lied.

Sam was clearly uncomfortable. His cheeks turned red as he closed the laptop immediately. “ONE TIME DEAN! I’m gonna go get ready and advise you to do the same.” He then said and went to his room. I didn’t know what to think. It was clearly a meaningless one night stand to him and he clearly wasn’t going to see her again which was awesome...WHY WAS I SO GOD DAMN JEALOUS THEN?

“Awww you made him blush.” I told Dean smiling a little. As much as I was angry/ jealous, seeing Sam blush like a school girl was adorable.

“It’s because of you.”

“Me?”

“Why me?” I asked.

“He kind of has a thing for you.”

And that ladies and gentlemen was the moment when I went into a deep state of shock. I know I sound overly dramatic, like I’m 15 again, but you know those butterflies you would feel whenever your crush would look at you? Well multiply that by 100 and spread them all over my body because that was what I felt.

“What?”

“You haven’t heard of me, but he kind of does have heart eyes for you.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW?” I asked in a loud whispered kind of tone.

Why now? And if that was true why did he sleep with that girl few mounts ago? I have never seen him stare nor do anything that would make me think oh, he likes me...

“I’ve seen him stare at you in a way...” He started but stopped himself due to a little wave of cringe; his disgusted face said it all...

“DEAN?”

“He wants to bang your brains out. Trust me.”

As I was about to tell him to stop talking bullshit Sam yelled from his room asking us if we were ready to leave. When we told them no he proceeded to yell back to hurry up because the sooner we leave the better. We left the bunker in about 15 minutes and all I could think about was Dean’s “He wants to bang your brains out.” sentence. I decided I have waited long enough and so the hunt for Sam Winchester has officially begun.

****

While we were on the road I was trying to think of the way to tell him “Hey I kind of heard you bang a girl and now I want you to do the same to me.” Without sounding desperate of course, but then the stupidest idea came to my head. Maybe just send him a text...

I knew it was better for me to wait until we finish the job but my lack of patience couldn’t let that happen. A long drive was ahead of us and if Dean’s observation was true I needed to know....NOW. I took my phone from my pocket...

“I know this is kind of weird but I can’t wait and I want to ask you something without Dean knowing...”

I clicked send. Sam was listening music on his phone so he responded right away.

“Ask.”

Should I be straight forward or....

Yes...

Always being straight forward.

“Dean told me you have a thing for me. Is that true?”

Click.

Sent.

“CRAP.”

My eyes kept staring at the screen as the bubble showed 3 dots telling me he was still writing... If Dean wasn’t right there were only 2 options you could do:

Bury yourself alive

Kill Dean and then bury yourself alive

“I don’t know how he knows, but I do.”

Dean was right...well then... I was relived I didn’t embarrass myself, my lack of patience hadn’t ruined my mood nor made the situation awkward like it tended to do almost 99% of my whole adult life.

“He told me you were looking me in a “I want to bang you” kind of way.”

“If I told you I wasn’t, that would be a lie.”

“Jesus, Sammy why didn’t you say anything? And why bang that girl if you want me?”

“Because I didn’t know if you want the same and I have needs...wait, do you?”

“Sam, ever since I have heard you bang that chick I have imagined you in various positions doing the same to me...Yes, you can say I want the same.”

“You heard us?”

“Yeah and to be 100% honest it was the greatest orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“You were touching yourself?”

“I couldn’t help it.”

“So you liked it?”

“Very much.”

“God, I’m so hard. I want you, NOW.”

I was suddenly feeling a wave of heat rush over my entire body as I gather the strength to respond.

“After we finish this, you can have me...whenever and however you want.”

“And Sam, please don’t let Dean see you with a boner <3.” I then added.

I could hear a chuckle leaving Sam’s mouth as his brother looked at him for a second before turning his gaze on the road again. “What’s so funny?” Sam immediately put his backpack on his lap pretending to look for something until he calmed down.

“Nothing.” He said.

“Is it your lady friend?” Dean said looking at me in the review mirror. I just gave him a blank stare.

“How many times do I have to tell you it was a one night stand, Dean?”

“I took some pictures of you sleeping so I sent it to your brother.” I said.

“Not cool (Y/N).” Dean said as I just ignored him. I started to feel tired so after a while I feel asleep to the sound of Led Zeppelin blasting through the speakers.

****

“Hey (Y/N) wake up.” I heard Sam’s voice. “We’re here.”

I slowly opened my eyes only to see Sam smiling. I remembered the texts and immediately had an urge to kiss those beautiful lips of his. But that had to wait... Right now all I wanted to do was take a shower; being stuck in the car for almost 11 hours wasn’t fun at all. We went to the motel and asked one room with three beds and because it was 5pm we decided to wait until the Sun goes down and then go to work. Dean said he was going to take a nap while Sam and I decided to go and eat something. After we both showered (sadly not together to save water) we left leaving Dean snoring under the covers. That man was so adorable while sleeping it was sometimes hard to believe he was able to kill monsters. If a baby rabbit had a gun...that was Dean.

Anyway, when we left my lust for Sam was slowly reaching its climax. I was clenching my thighs again, biting my bottom lip and sweating like I had a damn fever. I was nervous, so naturally when he didn’t stop the car at the diner the nervousness got worse. We haven’t spoken a word; he just drove until there were no more houses or people in sight...just trees, the road and us, parked between them. He unbuckled his seatbelt and lean on his side to look at me as I did the same.

“So, I’m guessing you’re not hungry?” I asked trying to sound confident but in reality I was slowly turning into a pile of goo.

“I am, but for something else.” He said with a smirk stroking my cheek with his thumb. I’ve never actually felt his touch until now, and it was intoxicating to say at least.

“Real Smooth Sammy.”

I could see his pupils were huge as he leaned in and kissed me. “FUCKING FINALLY!” My mind screamed as I took his face, pulling him closer. He wasn’t shy or gentle; he slid his tongue almost immediately when I opened my mouth. After I couldn’t breathe anymore I broke the kiss and pushed him back to his seat. Then I went and sat on his lap legs between him and facing him. There wasn’t enough room so he went for the lever and pulled it as hard as he could as the seat moved back, making room for both of us.

“So I’m guessing we aren’t going to wait after the hunt?” Sam asked me.

“You’re the one who didn’t stop the car at the diner so you tell me.”

His hand went on my cheek. “I couldn’t help it.”

“I’m glad you couldn’t.”

I kissed him this time, hard, as my hands went in his hair pulling slightly and his went on my hips. I slowly started to grind against him, feeling how hard he already was, making me weak by second. I always had a thing for gridding; maybe it was because you are so close to get what you want yet so far. My pace was slow, taking my time, feeling him but my kisses were fast and hungry. I bit his lower lip, sucked his tongue, driving him crazy... I was trying to tell him not to be gentle with me and I think he had picked that up because when he pulled my hair breaking the kiss, forcing me to look at him, my heart jumped from joy as my pussy got wetter.

“I see you like to play rough.” He whispered into my ear as he bit my earlobe.

“Very.” I responded trying to catch my breath. “Like Dean said I want you to bang my brains out.”

“Never thought of you as someone who likes it rough.”

“Same goes for you; until I heard you bang that girl.” I told his as I cupped his face. “Now shut up and fuck me.”

With a huge ass grin on his face Sam locked the car and started unbuttoning my flannel. Me, feeling like a horny teenager again, kissed him like my life depended on it. It was intoxicating; I became more addicted with each and every kiss... As my shirt went on the floor of the car, with ease Sam took off my bra as well, as his lips attacked my neck. He was kissing, licking and biting along the way, until he reached my left breast and stayed there for few second. His hands were on them squeezing hand while his mouth left a hickie. I threw my head back as my hips were still grinding against him. I was growing impatient, needy even...

“Take off your shirt.” I said. Sam just unbuttoned two buttons before taking off the flannel and shirt he was wearing underneath it. His body...god his body. It was firm, strong and carved by God himself.

Suddenly he took a good chunk of my hair and pulled, forcing me to look at him yet again. I gasped in surprise. “Happy?”

“Y-yeah.” I managed to say. I was addicted to this.

“You’re such a bad little thing, did anyone tell you that?”

“No.”

“Well, you are and do you know what happens to bad girls?”

“They get punished?” I sounded like a child that was about to get their present for Christmas. God I was desperate.

“Exactly.”

Sam was growing impatient with me and my shenanigans. We talked enough. I stood up and managed somehow to take off my booths and jeans. He didn’t tell me to get in the back seat so I just waited in the passenger seat until he got his jeans and boxers off as well, so I can be on top of him again. As much as I wanted to be under him, to feel his weight and pain in my crotch as he pounds into me, we couldn’t fit in the backseat, this was more comfortable. When he took off his boxers my mouth started to water. He was big, hard and beautiful. I pinned him against his seat, positioning myself and finally sat.

“My God!” I whispered.

“Feels good, huh?”

“So, so good.” I said.

As I was slowly starting to move and speed up the pace, Sam’s hand found my neck slowly tightening his grip to the point where I couldn’t breathe. “Faster.” He demanded. I moaned and did what I’ve been told. My head was occasionally hitting the roof of the car but I didn’t care. He was sending me to the place no man has ever been capable of doing. He wasn’t playing games. As I was jumping on him with my hands on his hand which was around my neck I was moaning and cussing feeling him hitting the G-stop.

“My little slut.” He mumbled. “Do you like being called that?” He asked as his breathing started to speed up. I nodded as much as I could, when his other hand went between my legs to my clit. He was actually trying to kill me.

“If you make a sound I will stop.” He said and started rubbing me with his thumb. Two slow circles later and I was having an urge to scream. I was already feeling my orgasm approaching and keeping my mouth shut was close to impossible, but I managed to do it somehow even when he was rubbing me faster than before. Pretty sure I was going to have a bruised bottom lip for a while, because biting it was the only way to keep my mouth shut.

“Good girl.” He said letting go of my neck. I pulled on his hair and kissed him feeling a smirk on his lips as I was starting to lose control over myself. He pulled me closer and bit my shoulder as I was jumping onto him. It was like he was reading my mind; he knew exactly what to do.

“ Fuck! Sam I’m...I’m close.”

“Don’t you cum until I tell you!!!” He yelled. “HOLY SHIT!”

“But-but please Sammy! I need it.” I cried out. “I really need it...FUCK!”

In a split second his hand grabbed my chin. His thumb was on my lips before I decided to open my mouth and suck on it. I was a mess, covered in sweat, hair all over my face and trying not to cum. So far I was controlling myself but for how long? I shut my eyes and bit his thumb slightly as he was hitting all the right places over and over again.

“NOW!” He said making me the happiest girl alive. I came all over him, moaning and screaming and after so did Sam. Seeing him in that state cussing and being completely lost in me was beautiful. I stopped moving as my chin went on his shoulder and hands around his neck. We were both panting and not saying a world. I could feel the pain in my shoulder from his bite, pain on my scalp from the pulling and it was fucking awesome. It was the good kind of pain.

“Holy shit!” I finally managed to say.

“Dean’s gonna kill us.” He said.

“I don’t know about you, but I can die happy now.” I said making him laugh.

“We should definitely do this again when we get back home.”

“All day, every day Sammy. Now let’s get back to the motel until Dean wakes up and realizes we took his Baby.” I said.

Turns out we didn’t have to worry, because when we got back to the motel, Dean was still fast asleep.

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Text

Us and Them.

Daryl Dixon x F Reader.

Tags: Not SFW, follow up to Hierarchy of Needs, takes place from Daryl's POV. Simping o'clock. Some typical TWD horror elements. Word count: 11.5k.

It takes a great deal to crack Daryl’s focus.

The life he’s led up until this point necessitated the fact. To ensure he’d hit his mark or continue tracking the elusive fauna hiding in the thickets, he needed to block the rest of the world out and hone in on his objective. This tendency bled into the other aspects of his day-to-day existence as well. It’s made him notoriously reliable, a reality he doesn’t take pride in, for he’s just doing what he thinks anyone should do. Shaking this cornerstone of his identity is no easy task.

Unless you’re thrown into the mix, that is.

Then it’s as if every functioning brain cell he has decides to jump ship in favor of seeking you out, no matter how detrimental it may be to him. Truth be told, he can’t even bring himself to mind half the time. You’re a distraction he’d hold the door open for. That being said, as much as he’d love to entertain thoughts of you 24/7, it’s an unrealistic dream. There’s work to be done and he can’t take up residence in la-la land. He’ll be forcibly evicted most of the time, should he not leave of his own volition.

His present predicament does well to remind him of this.

“You with me, Daryl?”

Rick’s voice is a scythe cutting through the overgrown verdure of his mind. Daryl grunts, probably agreeing to something he should’ve been paying closer attention to. It’s too late for him to play it off, he can tell by Rick’s expression alone. He’s giving that raised eyebrow, head tilted look you once theorized to be the byproduct of being a sheriff for years. Officer Friendly’s changed a lot since they first met, but that look has remained reliably consistent.

“That so? Mind telling me what I just said then?” Rick challenges.

Daryl doesn’t even bother to entertain the charade. He knows when to cut his losses. “Sorry. Wasn’t listening.”

“Mhm,” Rick nods his head in the direction Daryl’s been staring. “Let me guess. It got anything to do with our social butterfly over there?”

Daryl doesn’t know why Rick’s asking when he likely already knows the answer to the question. Indeed, Daryl’s been keeping an eye on you while Rick discussed various happenings. You were reading Frankenstein beneath a gazebo for a whopping five minutes before an interloper made himself known. One of Deanna’s sons — Daryl can barely tell them apart, they leave so little of an impression — decided to strike up a conversation with you. The complete and utter disregard for your personal time has him fuming. You’ve been so busy shadowing Deanna that you’ve barely had a moment’s respite, you deserve to read your damn book in peace.

He knows you’ve been working yourself to the bone. Alexandria is important to you, you’ve been doing everything possible to guarantee a future for your tight-knit group here. It helps that Deanna’s taken a shine to you; the opportunities this granted have been paramount. You’re slowly winning over the skeptical residents and explaining away any errant behavior from your group. Whatever tale you're spinning, he figures it must be working. He can at least walk around without being gawked at. Regardless, you confided to him that there's still much to do. Tensions are brewing faster than you can reconcile them.

“Hardly see ‘er no more,” Daryl scoffs. “Yuppies are takin’ up all her damn time.”

Rick gives a thoughtful hum. “It’s good, what she’s doing. Building up trust. Might help us if things are headed the way I think they are.”

What was no doubt intended to lift Daryl’s spirits does the opposite, plunging them down into a deeper depth. He feels he’s deceiving you somehow by not mentioning Rick and Carol’s ‘backup plan’ should the Alexandria inhabitants prove beyond help. He also knows you loathe feeling used — a vulnerable confession owing to a drink too many — and that’s what this feels like. Using the good graces you’ve painstakingly established for an ulterior motive.

Daryl keeps quiet. Fortunately, Rick is quick to catch on and changes the subject.

“You know,” he starts, looking away from you to focus on Daryl, “I’ve noticed something’s different between you two. Ever since the night of that welcoming party.”

Daryl assumes a poker face. He knew he should expect this line of questioning at some point, because things did change between you, in a way that exceeded his wildest dreams. Still, the way Rick’s sizing him up makes him feel like a teenager being greeted by your dad at the front door before your first date. He doesn’t know how to deal with this shit. The only person close to Daryl in terms of their protectiveness over you is Rick. Is this some type of test? That can’t be right; Rick’s been trying to convince him to shoot his shot with you since the prison. He probably just wants to know everything’s fine. Ever the worrier, holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“She, uh,” Daryl focuses on his scuffed boots, before finally managing to look Rick in the eye. “She knows.”

Rick’s countenance betrays his disbelief. “You told her?”

Well, it’d be more accurate to say you told him by kissing him silly and putting his many doubts to rest, but he isn’t about to go around announcing that. He’ll hold this near and dear to his heart.

“Yeah.”

“And?” Rick presses, borderline impatient for the information Daryl’s so stingy on handing over. “What’d she say?”

Daryl can’t stop his lips from quirking into a closed-mouth smile. “Feels the same.”

Unlike Daryl, Rick doesn’t bother trying to hide his grin. “What’d I tell you, huh? That’s— that’s great. I’m happy for you. For both of you. It’s about time you both stopped dancing around things.”

Daryl wants to grumble over Rick giving him a hard time, but he can’t bring himself to, because the man’s right. While it may not have been love back at the quarry, even then he thought you were the prettiest damn woman he’d ever had the blessing to lay eyes on. His attachment to you only grew from there. By his estimation, that’d place it somewhere around two years of having the hots for you without ever making a serious move. While he doesn’t regret the time dedicated to deepening your friendship, it would’ve saved him a lot of grief if he knew you reciprocated his affections. He’d lost track of the nights spent tossing and turning, contemplating just how out of his league you are.

“While we’re on the subject, Glenn’s got some condoms on him, should you need any.”

Daryl coughs into his hand to hide the wicked blush rising to his cheeks. “The hell, man?”

“Just sayin’,” Rick puts his hands up in defense. “It’s best to be proactive. Sometimes you look at the girl like you’re ready to pounce.”

He fights back a groan at the new ammunition Rick has to tease him with. It is good knowledge to have, though, so he makes a note of it. You had only slept together once on that fateful night roughly two weeks ago. Daryl was mistaken in thinking getting a taste of you would calm the raging flames of desire that burn him from the inside out. If anything, it’s as if they’ve been doused with gasoline. Every little thing you do nearly drives him mad with need. When you chew on your bottom lip in contemplation, bend over to grab something, or make those cute little noises when you stretch, the list goes on and on. You’re making it a damn challenge to think with his head and not his dick.

How can he not, when he’s experienced how exhilarating it is to become one with the person he loves most? The sights and sounds of that night play on a loop in his mind constantly. The teasing banter, the taste of chocolate on your lips, the mind-numbing pleasure that exceeds anything he’d felt in his life… it’s got to be a special kind of torture to know he can have that with you, if he only he could get you alone. He swears every force in the universe is working against him. You’re living in a house packed like sardines, your schedules don’t line up (he’s an early riser, you love ‘your beauty sleep’), and you’ve been busy as a bee.

In your benevolence, you’ve treated him to some fleeting kisses and hugs, which, while he treasures those more than the air in his lungs, can’t satisfy the excruciating need he has for your body. He has to stop himself from undressing you with his eyes the few times of day you’re around. You’re just so gorgeous, so exuberant, lighting up the room in the way only you can and leaving a cold emptiness inside him when you’re gone.

He used to harp on lovesick fools for gushing over their ‘other half’, but now he gets it, he truly does. Going without you for any length of time is a unique agony that twists his guts into a knot.

Glancing back over your way, his blood freezes over at the sight he’s greeted with.

The prick had the audacity to put his hand on your lower back while Daryl was preoccupied. His eye twitches and his nostrils flare, hands balling into fists by his side. Rick senses the change in demeanor and follows Daryl’s line of sight to identify the reason, instantly piecing together the problem. Right before Daryl can charge over and rip the asshole’s slimy hand off you, Rick steps in, motioning for him to slow down.

“Hey, hey, look at me—”

“He’s fuckin’ touching her,” Daryl seethes, barely able to hear anything over the sound of his heart thumping in his ears. “She’s uncomfortable, I’m gonna—”

This time, it’s Rick who interrupts him. “I get it, I really do, but we can’t afford to go makin’ a scene over something like this. [First] wouldn’t want that. You know she wouldn’t. So let’s take a moment and calm down.”

“The hell do you know ‘bout what she wants?” Daryl challenges, his voice raising enough to attract some nearby attention. He juts his shoulder out of the way when Rick tries to lay his hand on it. “We both know why you’re letting ‘er play nice.”

Rick’s eyebrows furrow, hurt at the insinuation. “Daryl…”

He turns on his heel and storms off.

Rick calls out to him a few more times, but he makes a point of ignoring him, along with the stares his outburst garnered. A quiet, reasonable voice whispers to him that he’s blowing things out of proportion. This sensible counsel is overpowered by his Dixon blood yelling otherwise. He’s always been quick to default to anger, it’s an emotion he can make the most sense of when everything’s confusing. Rage is all-consuming and familiar. It gives him an easy target to release his pent-up negative emotions.

There’s just too much for him to work through. The gnawing insecurity, that in this stable environment, you could do so much better than him and he wouldn't have the slightest clue how to stop it. He’s not a smooth talker, can’t excuse confidence in spades. Hell, he couldn’t even confess to you first, you had to come to him. Who in their right mind would want a man like that? A man like him?

His jaw feels like it could snap from how hard he’s grinding his teeth together.

When he gets back to the group’s shared residence, he slings his crossbow into place and makes for Alexandria’s gates. He’s got to get away from here before he pulls an even dumber stunt he’ll surely regret later. The lone guard stationed there looks about ready to give him a difficult time until he sees the grave expression on Daryl’s face. That’s enough for him to wordlessly grant passage to the outside world.

Daryl opts for using his knife to take out the walkers prowling past the entrance. Adrenaline pumps throughout his body as the blade breaches a skull, then another, the bodies sagging to the ground with a satisfying thump. He cleans the gore off his knife and sets out for the woods, grateful to leave the oppressive community he’ll never fully fit into behind him.

Out here, he’s in his element. Weaving in and out of paths he’s already started to memorize, hearing the coos of mourning doves and shrill chirps of cardinals. He isn’t meant to fraternize with some hoity-toity folks who still think carrying a gun around inside the walls is excessive. His previous anger simmers down into frustration with each step he takes. In his haste, he hadn’t grabbed that many arrows. He knows he shouldn’t be out here for long.

However, the alternative is just as undesirable. He’ll man up and give Rick the apology he’s owed, but there’s no doubt his stunt today hurt what you’ve been trying to build. The folks wearing their polo shirts and khakis will probably go back to staring at him like he’s some sort of bogeyman come to life. He scoffs quietly to himself at the thought, bending over to inspect some fresh-looking tracks in the dirt. A deer must’ve come through here not long ago. Snagging a catch like that would do wonders for lifting his dampened mood. It’s tangible proof that he belongs, that he isn’t some freak like his brother would have him believe.

It’s strange to care about what he’s gone his entire life ignoring. When you have a reputation like the Dixon’s did in the town he grew up in, ostracization was to be expected. He’d lost count of the times he’d have to bail Merle’s ass out of the county jail only for the process to start back up a few months down the line. They might as well have kept a parking spot with his name written on it, as often as he stopped by the place. The stares, the whispers. They followed him everywhere he went. He learned to stop caring, he didn’t really have any better alternatives.

He thinks of you — how quick you are to fit in — how wide the chasm is that separates you. It’s been a while since he’s had to grapple with these misgivings, the farm must’ve been the last time. Daryl knows it’s shameful, but he likes when he’s the one providing for you. Not so he could lord it over you, he wouldn’t dream of that. It’s more so how it justifies him being in your orbit. Solidifies his place by your side.

No one else can take it if it’s carved out in his shape.

The sun begins its lull in the sky. Shades of brilliant amber and gold trickle in through the interstices of the trees overhead, cascading like embers. Daryl mulls over what you might be doing now as he gulps down water from his canteen. Are you having dinner with Reg and Deanna? Or are you back at home, encouraging Judith to eat her veggies and trying to convince Carl there are more things to read than comics? Have you noticed his absence? Or are you too preoccupied to realize he’s gone?

His heart plummets down to his stomach.

Daryl crouches over, inspecting some flowers that have been chewed down to the stem. It’s still glistening with saliva. A deer’s doing, no doubt. This paired with the tracks he’s been following promises that he’s getting closer. Any other day, personal qualms would be the last thing on his mind when he’s about to land a deer, but you’re an apparition that won’t stop haunting him. He misses you. He sees you every day, yet it isn’t enough. He misses hearing your lame jokes that you laugh at (and he laughs at too, occasionally), the weird thoughts that occupy your pretty little head (seriously, who ponders over the origin of the phrase ‘elephant in the room’?), arguing over if Back in Black or The Dark Side of the Moon is the better album (he caught you humming Time to Judith once, trying to indoctrinate her early, no doubt).

He misses you so badly it makes him physically ache.

The crackling of foliage ahead temporarily releases him from his bitter rumination.

He fastens his crossbow into place, mindful of his every step. He makes his way through a clearing. It’s the scent he notices first, the miasma of rot. Then there’s the sound of flies buzzing and wet, vicious squelching. Ripping and tearing. Daryl knows what he’s destined to see before he even lays eyes on it. A group of voracious walkers gorge themselves upon the fallen deer, too preoccupied with devouring the viscera to notice his presence. Rigor mortis hadn’t even set in yet, he’d just barely missed his window.

It’s one of those days, he supposes.

The trek back to Alexandria is noticeably devoid of thought. He gladly welcomes the reprieve, wanting nothing more than for his head to hit the pillow so he can sleep today’s events off. Alexandria’s walls loom in front of him soon enough. He calls over to be let back in. Without delay, the gate creaks to the side, revealing the last figure he expected to be greeted with upon his return.

You.

You stand a few paces ahead, relief visible on your features when you establish eye contact. You’re wearing a yellow gingham blouse, white denim jeans, and those sneakers from what he’d consider the best day of his life. Your hair that you’ve been complaining is too long is tied up in a high ponytail, revealing that neck he longs to smother in kisses again. You’re so fucking radiant it should be illegal. Intelligent thought flies out the window, though luckily for him, you almost never run out of things to say.

“Are you alright?” Is what you decide upon, your voice sweeter than candy. He’d eat it up if he could.

He nods, his body recalling how to do basic motor functions after a sizable delay. You secure the gate behind you, muttering some gratitude to the guard Daryl scowled into submission earlier, then jog to catch up with him. He swears he could distinguish the sounds of your footsteps in his sleep. As much as he’d love to, he doesn’t look at you, choosing to fixate on the road ahead. After the events of the day, he doesn't trust himself not to pull anything stupid.

“Daryl, hello hello,” you say with a singsong lilt, “You do notice me, right? I’m not that short.”

“Tired, s’all,” he murmurs.

“Have you not been sleeping well?”

He shrugs. “Guess not.”

There’s a beat of silence. Unable to bear it, he turns toward you, immediately noting the uncharacteristic frown on your features. A deep pang resonates inside him at the sight. He knows he’s worrying you, causing extra strife you most certainly don’t deserve to deal with, but he can’t think straight. The culmination of two weeks’ worth of navigating foreign feelings he’s never experienced before is taking a toll on him. You mentioned having an ex-boyfriend to Maggie in the past — a notion he’s hardly surprised by, considering you got him of all people falling head over heels — so this must be familiar territory for you.

“When I asked if you were fine earlier, I didn’t just mean physically,” you nudge him playfully with your elbow, although your expression is serious. “Is something up?”

“Jesus, I’m fine, woman,” Daryl huffs. The tone he takes has you pursing your lips. He no longer hears your footsteps struggling to keep up, you must’ve stopped. He does too. Turning himself to face you is no easy task, yet he somehow manages. What remains of the sunset basks your features in a gentle glow. He can make out each fleck of color in your iris’, finding the distinct splash of color to be his favorite. You have every right to be annoyed with him, you should be, honestly — and still, there are no traces of irritation. That alone melts his heart.

You’re just looking at him, trying to piece together what’s brought him to this point. You never assume the worst of him, you never have. Instead, you choose to carefully comb through the information available to understand what he barely understands himself. This is one of your strengths he’s always admired.

When he once asked you why you gave others the benefit of the doubt, you compared it to his tracking process.

“There’s more going on than what’s visible at first glance, right?” You reasoned. “You have to stop, slow down. Take time to inspect things a little closer. If you don’t, you risk missing what’s truly important.”

Waves of guilt crash over him like the roaring ocean upon the shore. You’re so good — the epitome of everything worth preserving in this decaying world.

“... ‘m sorry,” Daryl swallows thickly. “Just… bad day, is all.”

Your visage softens. “Hey, it’s okay.”

He flinches. You’re far too quick to forgive.

“Nah, it ain’t. I shouldn’t take it out on ya.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” You offer, still refusing to hold Daryl’s shortcomings over his head. “I, um, actually had something I wanted to show you. It’s somewhere quiet. It’d just be us there.”

He parts his lips, ready to reinforce the fact you should be upset with him, when he sees your smile. This is the kind you’ve only ever graced him with. There’s this innate understanding in your eyes, a compassion to the curve of your lips. A look of pure love. He’s committed every facet of you he can to memory, he knows no one else is the recipient of this specific tenderness. It’s reserved solely for him.

There’s a gravitational pull around you that draws him close and refuses to let him go.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Positive.”

You hold your hand out.

He hesitates, wondering if he deserves to take it.

When he does, the way your smile grows tells him he made the right choice.

It’s him following you now. There’s a pep in your step, he can feel the excitement radiating off of you. A few Alexandrians he hasn’t bothered learning the names of yet give a wave upon spotting you, an act you gladly reciprocate. You haven’t the slightest ounce of shame about the rugged man trailing behind you. An insecure part of him that stubbornly refuses to die suggested that as you integrate into the community, you might leave him behind. Find a man that fits in here rather than sticking out like a sore thumb as he does.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

The guilt returns, slithering its tendrils around his person and preparing to bite down hard. He’s been weaving falsehoods about you because of his own problems. You aren’t that type of person. He needs to get out of his own head and accept that maybe, just maybe, this’ll be his shot at happiness. The concept is so surreal that his body has been rejecting it like it were a foreign invader. He doesn’t want to fall prey to his natural tendencies anymore, he has to fight it.

He imagines it’ll be a slow and tedious process, uprooting the thorny vines he’s grown to protect himself. You’re worth the effort, reckons. You always have been.

Suburbia surrounds you on both sides. This must be another residential area of Alexandria, one that is vacant from what he can tell. You pause in front of one of the homes, nestled toward the end of the street. It’s the picture-perfect representation of the upper-middle-class ideal. A two-story high house styled like the others, with beige siding and a light gray roof. After letting him take it in for a second, you pull a set of keys from your back pocket, then grin.

“I bought us a house,” you twirl the jingling keys on your pointer finger. “My credit wasn’t the best, and we’ll probably have to do a reverse mortgage in a decade, but it’s ours.”

Daryl squints, trying to deduce how much of what you’re saying is in jest.

“I’ve been working with Deanna to get our group more settled in, since this looks permanent. We finished ironing out the details today, and, uh, yeah. We get a house all for ourselves.”

Your voice grows smaller toward the end of your sentence, almost tentative. You’re gauging him just as much as he is you.

“Ya wanna,” he takes a moment to find the right words, “Ya wanna live with me?”

You shrink into yourself. “I do. O-Only if you want to, of course! If this is weird, or, I’m uh, being too forward, then just— oof!”

You’re never given the chance to finish your sheepish ramblings, for he lifts you in the air, spinning you once then wrapping you in a tight embrace. You give him a breathless laugh and return his affection in kind. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of cocoa butter and shea. In any other circumstance, he’d shy away from such a bold display in public, but he’s too damn ecstatic to care. Let anyone who happens by watch. See for themselves that you’re his and he’d sooner keel over than let you go.

“I take it that’s a yes, then?” You hum as he carefully puts you down, treating you like you were made of glass.

“Yeah,” he reassures. He huffs in amusement at the stars that are practically glittering in your eyes. “Guess that means the others’ll know ‘bout us.”

You’re quick to fall back into your usual demeanor, now that you know he wasn’t put off. “Are you embarrassed of me, Mr. Dixon?”

He rolls his eyes at your theatrics, replying lightheartedly, “Stop.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure the others already know,” you say. “Well, some of them, at least. Women have a sixth sense for these things.”

Daryl raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I mostly plead the fifth. Rosita and Maggie keep smirking at me though. I think we developed some sort of witch coven-level bond while out on the road.”

He lets out a ‘pfft’ at the phraseology that’s so distinctly you. He’s always loved hearing you talk, he swears you could make an instruction manual on how to set up a dresser entertaining. Aside from how unfairly pretty you are, your mannerisms are what caught his eye. You have this way of creating a comfortable atmosphere. Back at the quarry, you stubbornly worked to peel back his layers, one at a time. You somehow knew what conversations to broach and which to steer clear of. Before he knew what was happening, you became his favorite person to spend time with, and he actively sought you out; ignoring Merle’s disparaging remarks along the way.

The rest is history, as they say.

You both walk up to the porch, taking in every last detail. The spacious front yard, bushes that Daryl makes a mental note to trim later, and the little stone pathway which leads up to the steps. A soft breeze passes through, encouraging the rustle of towering tree branches. The scent of daisies and honeysuckle wafts in the cool evening air and he deeply inhales nature’s aromatic perfume. You trace the porch’s white pillar with your fingertips, seemingly entranced, disbelief written over your features.

“From a prison cell to this,” you shake your head. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“Nah. You ain’t.”

You point at the closed garage. “You can park your bike there, turn it into a workshop or something.”

Next, the empty garden.

“And— and we can plant carrots, peas, zucchini… maybe find a blueberry bush. Flowers too. Oh, I love hydrangeas, they can be tricky though. We should also plant a fruit tree. What about apple? Yeah, let’s do that. The kids’ll love it. Apple pie, apple cider… did you know Carl’s never had apple cider? How is that even possible?”

There’s a glossy tint to your eyes as you ramble on, so taken by the idea of a future that you don’t know what to do with yourself. He has to fight against a lump threatening to form in his throat. Daryl hugs you from behind, holding you against him as if you’d disappear like sand through his fingers should he let go. You feel so good in his arms. So right.

“We have to make this work, Daryl,” your voice is tight. “We have to. No matter what.”

This serious declaration takes him back weeks prior, to the day your fates became permanently intertwined. You’ve been pushing yourself to fulfill what you said then and now. He’s sure you’d much rather spend time with your group, your family, but you’ve been building the groundwork for a future. The very same groundwork he’s been undermining by plotting outside the walls with Rick and Carol, well-intentioned as it may be.

“I gotta tell ya something,” he murmurs, placing a chaste kiss atop your head. Your hair smells heavenly. “Has to do with earlier.”

After feeling you nod, he continues, albeit hesitantly.

“Me, Rick n’ Carol have been talking. ‘Bout Alexandria. What we should do here. They’re thinkin’ we might hafta take over, if worse comes to worst. These people… they’re weak. Don’t know a damn thing ‘bout what’s happenin’ outside them walls.”

He loosens his grip as you twist around to face him. Once again, he braces himself for heavy rebuke; a confirmation that you’ll be as upset as he imagined upon learning about this. You place both your hands on the railing behind you while looking up, your head tilting to the side.

“I already knew about that.”

Daryl knits his eyebrows together, incredulous. “You— what?”

“Not the specifics, maybe, but I got the gist of things,” you confirm. This further reinforces his belief that you’re perceptive to a freaky degree. “I mean… I get where you guys are coming from. What we’ve been through… what we’ve seen… God… I never let myself think about it for long. I can’t. I push that shit down as deep as it’ll go. Lock it up and throw away the key.”

You sigh and give him a weary smile that tugs on his heartstrings. “I’m not going to say that you’re in the wrong, because honestly, I haven’t the faintest clue. I wish I did, but I don’t. All I know is that it doesn’t hurt to try. What’s that adage Rick is so fond of…? Ah, yes, let’s ‘see what we see’. If you do, and still think they’re a lost cause, then… I’ll trust your judgment. I always have. Always will, too. There’s no one I trust more in this world than you, Daryl. Not even myself.”

You’ve stolen the air from his lungs and words from his mouth, it’s like he’s been sucker-punched. He tries and fails to string together a coherent sentence. It shouldn’t be too difficult, the assembly of vowels and consonants, yet every word in the English language slips his mind. He’s long since held the belief that you’re an angel incarnate — you might as well be, given your beauty — but thinking that way is ultimately doing you a disservice.

You’re scared, you’re confused, you’re human. Blood pumps through your heart, not ichor.

Daryl takes your pretty face into his hands, wishing he could smooth away the lines of worry. “I’ll try. Promise.”

You kiss his inner palm. “That’s all I could ask for.”

“What you said… ‘bout not trustin’ yourself…” he trails off, almost wincing at hearing the words spoken aloud again, “You should. Trust yourself, I mean. You're smart. Crafty. Made some damn good calls I never woulda thought to.”

“Are you buttering me up, Daryl?” You teasingly suggest. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me.”

He grunts. There you go with your tendency to keep things light-hearted when they get uncomfortably personal again.

“... Really, though, thank you,” the inflection of your voice reverts back to sincere in record time. You almost give him whiplash with the ease in which you shift moods. “We probably should’ve had this talk sooner, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry ‘bout that. I wanted… wanted to surprise you, and I got so swept up in that, I missed what’s really important.”

Daryl feels his lips twitching into a smile at your subconscious elision — Carol once pointed out that you sometimes talk like him, and vice versa. She said you guys hang out together so often, it’s to be expected. He’s picked up your favorite idioms and rubbed off his tendency to curse on you, even if you don’t do it anywhere near as often as him. To think that two years ago, his preppy princess went from having the cleanest mouth around to dropping expletives without batting an eyelash.

“‘S fine. Still don’t think ya did anything wrong.”

“You’re a bit biased, don’t you think?”

“Mm. Maybe.”

You laugh at his candidness. “It just occurred to me that all our best conversations happen on porches. Is that why you lived out on the porch for our first few days here?”

“Nah. Had to keep ya safe,” Daryl runs the pad of his thumb over your cheekbones. “Can’t let anything happen to ya, butterfly.”

You preen at the personal touch to your infamous nickname, evidently liking it as much as he does. “I told you, I’m more of a caterpillar for the time being.”

He snorts. “Coulda fooled me.”

“Hm… a cocoon, then? Agree to disagree?”

“Ain’t calling ya a fuckin’ cocoon, woman.”

“Oh, but if it’s your voice saying it, I’ll get all hot and bothered,” you lean forward, pressing the swell of your chest against his. He swears he can feel his blood rushing south. “You could make anything sound good. Even… hm… let me think… the word foible.”

Daryl scrunches up his nose. “The hell? That’s a word?”

“Sure is. It might be the only one that hasn’t found its way into Eugene’s impressive lexicon yet.”

“You couldn’t pay me ‘nough to say that.”

“It’s a good thing the economy is in shambles then,” you wink. Then you stifle a laugh with your hand. “Huh. I really need to get better at flirting. I’m rusty… way out of practice. Mind helping me out with that, Dixon? If not, Maggie’s gonna get stuck dealing with the brunt of it.”

The look he gives has you showing your palms in surrender. “I told you! It’s witch coven level stuff between us now. I’m waiting with bated breath for someone to suggest a blood oath.”

“Don’t need no practice, all ya do is flirt with me, damn vixen.”

He pinches your cheek, content to see how they’ve filled back out after two weeks of eating regularly.

“Took you long enough to notice.”

You guide his hands to your hips and he’s more than happy to place them there. Next, you secure your arms around his neck, then start swaying side to side. Everything about you is so magnetic. God, that expression is nearly lethal. You’re gazing up at him through lidded eyes, worrying your lower lip beneath your teeth. He feels his cock twitching to life. You barely need to do a damn thing and he’s ready to fall to the ground and worship you.

Daryl has to fight off a debauched noise as you stand on your tiptoes, your tongue poking out to coat your lips in an enticing sheen. He feels your hot breath fan against his face and tightens his grip on you to keep himself steady. You pause, content to stay where you are, so close to where he wants you yet cruelly far away. You breathe in one another’s air for a few, agonizing seconds, your noses touching. Then you’re moving again. Right when he thinks he’s going to be treated to your taste, frustration boils within when you kiss the corner of his mouth instead. He could take whatever he wants from you — his immense strength speaks to that — yet there’s something so undeniably charming about letting you think you’re in control.

He figures he can play along a while longer.

“Do me a favor, sweetheart,” you whisper, the huskiness of your voice causing goosebumps to erupt all over his skin, “Grab what’s in my back left pocket.”

Curious, he does just that. His fingers come into contact with a plastic serrated edge. He knows what it is before he even pulls it out.

“This time, I can’t say I didn’t plan things in advance,” you take pride in admitting.

He frowns. “Just have these on you?”

Despite knowing it’s entirely unreasonable, he can’t suppress a sting of jealousy. He silently hopes you haven’t been carrying these things around for long. Not if you wanted to use them with someone else.

“Mhm. I had some at the farm, then the prison,” if you notice how his expression darkens, you don’t mention it. “There’s this guy who caught my eye, you see, a very handsome one. I’ve wanted him to have his way with me for ages. Couldn’t work up the courage to admit that for the life of me, though. Until very recently.”

He mentally sighs at the reassurance no one’s gotten to touch you while he was stuck silently yearning from afar. There were a few panic-inducing moments that drove him crazier than he’d ever admit, due largely in part to your friendly personality. You’re touchy-feely with those you care about. While he reaped the benefits of this, it’s a double-edged sword. You hug your friends, fall asleep on their shoulder, and dote over them at every chance. He once mistakenly snapped one of his arrows in half when he saw you run and jump to embrace Rick.

Daryl knew it was wrong to feel possessive over a grown woman who he wasn’t in a romantic relationship with, yet his heart refused to listen to his brain. People were drawn in by your wit and charm, there wasn’t much to do about it. It wasn’t like he could station himself by your side every waking hour to scare off any asshole who thought they had a shot at you.

… He has considered the idea, though.

“That right?” He asks, maintaining eye contact while his hands go to give your ass a squeeze. He’s never felt the most confident when it came to flirting, yet you make him feel wanted, like you’re into him as much as he’s into you.

“Right as rain,” you give him those doe eyes that make him weak in the knees. “It made me have to settle for the next best thing.”

Daryl’s entirely under your spell and he wouldn’t want it any other way. “What’d that be, princess?”

He bites back a knowing smirk at the way you shiver, your eyes glazing over with lust. Learning your little thing for hearing him call you princess was a piece of knowledge he fully intended on making good use of.

“My hands,” you murmur. He knew what you were implying, but hearing you say it out loud almost makes him lose his fucking mind. “I’d think about how strong he was, how good he’d make me feel. I was always scheming, y’know. Wearing short shorts, low cut shirts. Think it may have caught his attention?”

Oh, so that’s how it was, huh? He’d always get caught between feeling grateful for seeing so much of you and possessive when he realized everyone else got the same privilege. A few men and women back at the prison let their eyes linger far longer than he would’ve preferred. He’d spend balmy nights tucked away on his lonesome, wrestling his belt and pants down so he could relieve himself to the thought of you. Guilt would rear its head when he saw you the next day, running over to excitedly greet him, oblivious to how he objectified you in his mind hours prior.

It comes as a mild relief to know that was what you intended.

“Don’t needta think. Know for a fact it did.”

You pout, upping his urge to kiss you by a hundred percent. “Are you sure? He hasn’t tried to touch me lately. It’s starting to hurt my feelings.”

“Hard to touch a woman who ain’t there,” Daryl huffs, indignant.

“Well, I’m here now,” you reassure. “Maybe you should make the best of it, hm?”

You don’t need to tell him twice.

He snatches the keys and wastes no time unlocking the front door, motioning for you to go in first. He enters immediately after. The lock is redone in anticipation of what’ll come next, you’ll both be needing your privacy. Daryl loves your little group, would die for them in a heartbeat, but he’s been waiting what feels like eons to get you alone again. He’s surprised with the amount of self-control he’s exercising, the urge to rip your clothes off and take you against the closest available surface is overwhelming. You bring out this animalistic side to him he never knew existed.

You start making your way upstairs after leaving your shoes by the door. From this angle, he’s treated to a lovely angle of your hips and shapely ass. His nerves are set aflame by the mere thought of seeing you bare again. He damn near sprints to catch up with you, not caring to hide his desperation in the slightest. He scoops you up bridal style along the way — he really might have a thing for manhandling you, although he’s never rough — the ease in which he can maneuver your body just feels right. Satisfies what little ego he has when it comes to romantic endeavors.

“I never have to use my legs when you’re around,” you giggle.

“That’s the goal.”

In more ways than one, he hopes.

Daryl brings you into the first bedroom he sees. You’re gently laid down atop the plush comforter, while he gets to work ridding himself of his clothes. The condom from earlier is placed on the bed’s edge. He pulls his angel wing vest over his head, kicks off his boots, then his jeans. The weight of your gaze on him is tangible, you look at him as if he were a piece of art. He’s unsure if he should feel embarrassed or prideful by your unabashed staring. A blush dusts his cheeks when he catches you rubbing your thighs together, causing him to lean toward the former.

He freezes when he gets to his black button-up shirt. The last time you were intimate, it was dark enough that he didn’t feel entirely exposed. As much as he loves seeing you painted in warm hues of orange and red, that means he’ll be fully visible too. Every inch of his body and its testament to a life of hardships. You’d seen the scars on his back when tending to his injuries back on the farm, yet you didn’t dare to make a comment. The way he flinched and shrunk away told you everything you needed to know.

Sensing his hesitation, you stand to your feet and approach him. Your fingers settle on the top button, though you make no movement past that. He can practically hear the cogs turning in your head.

“If you don’t want—”

“I do,” he cuts you off, knowing what you intend to say. “I trust ya. Just…”

“Just…?”

He shrugs, the tips of his ears burning. “Want ya to like what ya see.”

“Oh, darling,” you croon, the unexpected pet name makes his blush infinitely stronger, “Maggie used to call me out for drooling over you when you wore those sleeveless shirts. Made me wish I had a pair of opera glasses. You’re handsome. Unbelievably so.”

He doesn’t know what to say, caught in a swirl of embarrassment and delight over the praise you wholeheartedly offer.

You undo the first button, then stop, looking up to check with him again. When he nods, you keep going, revealing the skin that closely hugs his defined muscles. You don’t recoil in disgust or give him pity-filled glances when spotting his scars, instead, you look mesmerized. He can hear your breathing pick up and see the way your pupils dilate.

Daryl thought he was too old to get butterflies in his stomach, but there’s nothing you’re better at than revealing parts of himself he didn’t know existed.

You smooth your palms over his pecs. “I really am going to start drooling.”

He huffs and shrugs off his shirt, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. “Lay your ass back down, girl.”

You give a dorky double thumbs up and do just that.

He joins you not long after, both his arms caging you against the bed.

Daryl nods toward your still-clothed body and quirks his head to the side.

“What? You don’t wanna be the one to undress me? I’m sure you’ve thought about it.” You provoke. His hands almost start trembling from the sheer excitement the prospect stirs up in him. You’re such a coquettish little thing, playing dirty whenever you’re presented with the choice. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it, though. You know how to rile him up.

“Once or twice,” he replies, nimble fingers finding the hem of your shirt and lifting. You raise an eyebrow, challenging his purposefully low estimation. He gives a throaty chuckle, soothing your ire by kissing you on the forehead. “A day.”

You look pleased with the revelation. “There. Much better.”

He greedily takes in every inch of skin that’s revealed to him as he lifts your shirt. Heaven itself couldn’t compare to the beauty that is your body, he almost forgets how to breathe when he sees the start of your chest. His heartbeat rises in a crescendo as he slowly pulls the fabric upward. Finally, he gets an unobstructed view of your tits, wrapped up nice and pretty in a black bra. He wets his lips and bites back a groan. His large, calloused hands immediately set to work on kneading the supple flesh. There’s nothing he loves the feel of more.

“Ya really did plan this,” Daryl has to stop himself from rutting against the bed like an animal, the desperation you instill in him is unreal. “Wanted to drive me fuckin’ crazy, huh?”

“Maybe a little.”

He pinches your nipples then, earning a gasp so lovely from you that a guttural growl leaves his throat. He’s just as obsessed with your voice as you are with his. There’s a sweetness to it that tickles his ears just right. Whether you’re laughing, moaning, or simply saying his name in that way only you can, there’s this lilt that has him hooked. Nicotine be damned, you’re an addiction that surpasses all else.

His fingers make their way to your back, undoing the clasp of your bra. “A little, hm?”

You nod after a moment’s hesitation.

“Ya never were a good liar,” Daryl muses. He’s always found this positively adorable about you. Once he taught you the rules of poker and you joined in on some game nights, it became clear that wasn’t your area of expertise. You’d squirm in your seat, glare or beam at your cards, your intentions practically announced for the whole world by your transparent body language. He’d lost count of the number of times he had to bite back a smile when watching you.

He wraps his mouth around your nipple, alternating between suckling and licking it with his tongue. If given the chance, he’d sit here and do this for ages.

“Is that— mm— a bad thing?”

He pulls back from his important task long enough to reply, “Nah. Love that ‘bout ya.”

While he contents himself by playing with your tits, you grow adorably impatient, wriggling in an attempt to get some friction where you want it most. He grabs your hips and holds you still to stop your indulgence, eliciting an irritated huff from you. He hadn’t anticipated this brattier side of you, but there’s something about it that gets him going. Electricity crackles between you, filling the atmosphere with thick tension.

“There somethin’ you want, girl?” He teases, attention flittering between the coat of his saliva on your chest and the depraved curve of your countenance. He can feel precum leaking from his tip when you try to grind on him again, your frustration fucking delicious.

Your eyes widen when he pulls away, much to his amusement. “Asked ya a question, butterfly. You best be answerin’ it.”

“What do you think I want, Daryl?” The little whine you accentuate your words with works wonders on him.

He shrugs, playing ignorant. “Dunno. A nap, maybe. Ya act all pissy if ya don’t get your eight hours.”

“I told you, my beauty sleep is important,” you huff, directing a halfhearted glare his way. He exhales sharply, betraying his bemusement. You’re about as intimidating as a bunny rabbit to him. “Admittedly, while the prospect of a nap is tempting, I’d rather you fuck me until my brain is scrambled.”

This vulgar side of you is a damn treat he’ll never tire of devouring.

“That so, princess?”

“Cross my heart.”

“Take them pants off then.”

You oblige without protest. You hook your thumb on the waistband, maintaining smoldering eye contact as you drag it down oh so slowly. He palms at his hardened length while you put on your little show, the throb of his cock close to constant. His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when he spots your panties. They’re the same shade of black as your bra, the fabric next to scant, hugging your curves tightly. He can see the outline of your folds against it, your wetness seeping through. His tongue slips out to moisten his lips when he remembers how amazing you tasted. He’s brought back to the blissful experience, the softness of your thighs around his face, how you wriggled and squirmed so delightfully for him…

“My eyes are up here, Mister,” you hum. Normally, he’d have a clever remark ready to match you, but he’s completely at a loss. You’ve rendered him speechless.

You were wearing this all day, just for his viewing pleasure?

Maybe there is a God after all — some higher power has got to be smiling down on him. You could make a zealot out of the most impious man.

By the time he manages to break from his reverie, your pants have been tossed aside. It’s you who approaches first, crawling over to where he sits still as a statue, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly, completely and utterly smitten by you. Your breath hitches in your throat when you notice the prominent outline of his cock against his boxers. If that visceral reaction does something for his ego, he’ll never admit it.

You settle onto his lap like it’s where you belong most — he’d argue until he was blue that it is — both of you releasing a content noise at finally having contact where you want it most. Your lips are on his in a feverish kiss. His hands start at the dimples on your back, then move down, cupping your ass and encouraging you to grind against him. You use his shoulders as leverage to better control your movements. He groans when your fingernails dig into his flesh, and you take the opportunity to sneak your tongue into his mouth, getting drunk on the taste of one another. Today, you taste like lemonade. The tart flavor is best when sampled from you.

His mouth smothers your whimpers and soft moans of his name. When you pull back, he’s initially disappointed, until he realizes this grants him the perfect view of each twist of your face. You appear hazy with pleasure, your bare chest heaving and glossy lips parted. There’s a telltale tensing in your thighs that catches him off guard.

“You gettin’ off on this?” Daryl asks, his voice heady with lust. “Grindin’ on me, making all them sweet lil noises?”

“Yes,” you whimper, your shame long forgotten. Not that you ever have much when it comes to him.

This is better than anything he’d concocted in his wildest fantasies. You wanting him as much as he wants you, chasing after your high without reservation. He faithfully does his part to help you along. He follows the rhythm you set, his eyes never leaving your face, deriving unmatched satisfaction from knowing he’s the reason you’re like this. It’s him who knows how to fire you up and cool you down, him who you’re humping against like depravity is your natural element.

You’re gripping him tighter, nails digging deep. He savors the slight ache, intending to wear your marks like a badge of honor.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice raspy. “C’mon. Show me how good ya feel. Wanna see it.”

You’re nothing if not obedient, once in a blue moon.

You come undone, throwing your head back, your eyes squeezed shut as you savor your release. He fixates upon the muscles of your neck, on display like a canvas ready to receive his designs. His lips hover over your racing pulse, the stubble of his beard against your skin prompting a fit of giggles. He mouths at your skin, humming low in appreciation at the saltiness coating it. You sure do get yourself all worked up over him. Knowing that does things for him, stokes the flames of an already raging fire.

“God, I’m obsessed with you, Daryl Dixon,” you confess, moving your head aside so he can have better access to your neck. “You’re all I think about. We’re just— we were made for one another, weren’t we? You’re my best friend, my — I don’t know — does boyfriend sound kinda silly at this point, or is it just me?”

Love blooms in his chest, temporarily overpowering his lust. Or perhaps the two are mixing to form an entirely new color. “I’ll be whatever ya like, so long as I get to see that again.”

“Even my…?” You cut yourself off, and he pulls back, finding himself unable to read your countenance. That’s an exceedingly rare occurrence.

“Your…?” He prompts, the both of you whispering like you’re exchanging precious secrets.

“No, it’s—” you suck in a deep breath and shake your head. “Ahem. Too soon for that.”

You try to distract him by pawing at his waistband. It is a clever move on your part, but he musters up the willpower to stop thinking with his dick for a few seconds.

“Nah. Ya ain’t doin’ that. Finish the damn sentence, woman.”

This is a rabbit hole he wants to explore. His intuition offers a suggestion that’d fill in the blank, yet he shrugs it off, scoffing internally. There’s no way you possibly meant that, his brain just isn’t working properly. No, a pretty thing like you couldn’t possibly want to marry an asshole redneck like him—

“Marriage is off the table until we at least go on one date. Your treat. I’m ordering appetizers and a dessert, too.”

Only you would essentially propose to him while throwing in a joke for good measure. Yeah, that’s the love of his life alright. A hot mess. Heavy emphasis on hot. Somewhat lighter emphasis on mess.

“... Orgasm felt that good, huh?”

You swat at his chest. “Shut up, I’m sleep deprived and not thinking clearly.”

Daryl notices that you’re looking everywhere but at his face, embarrassment prominent. He props himself up some so that you’re able to pull his boxers off, his dick springing out of its restraints. There are about a million things he wants to say to you, some teasing, some entirely genuine, but when you wrap your soft hands around the base of his cock, he blanks. He pants your name as you start pumping him. Pearls of cum are quick to coat his length, making the process even easier for you.

You bend forward, your tongue licking up everything that oozes from his flushed tip. Then your mouth starts taking him in. The warm wetness feels divine and he keens. The noise surprises you both, encouraging you to keep going. You hollow out your cheeks, then start sucking, all the while jerking off what isn’t in your mouth yet. Caving into instinct, his hands fly to either side of your head. He helps ease you up and down his length.

Daryl wonders if he’s dreaming — he doesn’t want to pinch himself to find out, just in case that’d wake him up.

The fact a girl as stunning as you is sucking his dick with unbridled enthusiasm simply doesn’t compute. His peak is growing more and more imminent. The tightness of your mouth, how you’re moaning against him like you’re the one being pleasured; it’s too much in the best of ways. He was already worked up to a frenzy after witnessing you come from grinding on him.

Briefly, he entertains the thought of what it’d be like if he released his load in your mouth. He’d make sure you swallowed every last drop. Knowing you, however, you’d probably do so without his prompting, swallowing while looking him straight in the eye. You know what you do to him. That you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger. You know it and love it, maybe almost as much as he does.

Daryl utilizes every last ounce of self-control in his body and pulls you off his weeping cock.

A trail of saliva connects your lips to his tip, a sight he intends to burn into his memory forever.

“Hey, I was enjoying myself,” you complain with an exaggerated sigh.

“Me too.”

He reaches over to grab the condom from earlier. Ripping into it with his teeth, he rolls the plastic over his sensitive cock. Once it’s on, his hands go to your shoulder, gently pushing so that you’ll lay down for him. You pique his interest by shaking your head. You must have plans of your own, for you reclaim your spot on his lap. He’s plenty content to accommodate this apparent desire of yours and leans back.

You line him up with one hand and tenderly cup his cheek with the other.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, lulling your head back while you do so. He helps hold your hips in place so you can adjust to him at your pace. Instinct begs him to rut up into your accommodating warmth, but he values your comfort more than his own carnality. Your eyelashes flutter shut whereas he keeps himself trained on you. When you’re halfway down, he kisses your inner wrist, grateful for the pulse beneath your skin.

“You’re takin’ me in well,” he praises. If there were ever a man capable of penning hymns dedicated to you, it’d be him. “Just like that. Nice n’ easy.”

A high-pitched whine leaves your lips when he’s fully inside you.

“That’s it, good girl.”

You reopen your eyes, granting him the sight of what’s become his favorite color ever since he met you.

“You’re spoiling me with all these compliments.”

Your hands run over his jaw, then the tensing tendons of his neck, finally settling on his sun-kissed shoulders.

“Ya deserve it,” Daryl murmurs. “Beautiful woman.”

Dizzying pleasure thrums throughout him when your walls clench, his words hitting your sweet spot. Sweat coats both your bodies in a light sheen. You rotate your hips, allowing him to stretch you out, the slight friction far from enough yet tantalizing nonetheless. Finally, after what feels like an excruciating wait, you lift yourself off him and come back down. The decadent pleasure builds and builds with each repeat of the motion. He’s close, painfully so, but letting you take what you want from him is given top priority. The sinful sounds pouring from your lips with increasing urgency hint that you might not last long either.

Calloused fingers work to rub messy circles against your clit. This added layer of stimulation has you moaning incoherently near his ear, half-legible sentiments tumbling out.

“Feels so good,” you whimper, almost delirious. “I wanna be yours. Please.”

You’re growing increasingly erratic as your second high looms on the horizon. The telltale tensing of your muscles has him picking up momentum. One hand guides you up and down his cock, the other pleasuring you where you need it most. Your declaration envelops him, making him feel impossibly warmer. How you vacillate between uttering the naughtiest and sweetest things is a mystery to him he won’t bother solving. All he knows is that his adoration for you won’t ever stop growing, no; this is where a new chapter of it begins.

“You are. Always ‘ave been.”

Daryl knew it couldn’t have just been his imagination, the once-in-a-lifetime connection that formed soon after your paths crossed. It strung you both together. Whenever one wandered too far from the other, the rope would go taut, forcing you to stumble back where you belonged.

Your walls tighten around him and you snap, back arching, pressing those perfect tits against his chest.

He grunts at the sensation of you coming on his cock, thrusting upward to meet your stuttering hips. He loses himself in the aroma of sex and you. You go partially limp when you’ve come down from your high, which allows him to maneuver your body with greater ease. The release he denied himself minutes prior threatens to consume him once again. How could it not, when he got to witness your blissed-out face, hear the sounds of your gratification?

Daryl’s hands latch into the soft flesh of your waist hard. He slams into you a few more times, the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating throughout the room. His cum spurts out into the condom’s plastic confines, filling you with his warmth. He faintly registers that you’re lavishing his neck in sloppy kisses as he basks in his high.

Both your chests heave as you pant, greedily taking in the air you willingly deprived yourselves of during the act.

Your shaky fingers comb through the mess that is his bangs. Daryl lets you do as you please, too busy admiring every inch of your face to care about anything else. You press a chaste kiss against his forehead, then his nose, and finally, his awaiting lips. He chases after yours when you pull away, an action that makes you laugh. He huffs at the return of your brattiness. When he sees how wide you’re smiling, however, it becomes difficult for him to maintain his disgruntled facade. Your joy is contagious.

“Plannin’ on stayin’ there all night?” He nods at the junction where your bodies remain connected. His cock has gone soft and you’ve made no sign of getting off him yet, not that he’s complaining. He knows you’re real fussy about cleanliness (a concept that eludes his understanding, since it’s the damn apocalypse), so he’s pleasantly surprised you haven’t run off to wipe yourself down.

“Would you be opposed if I said yes?”

“‘Course not.”

However much you’d both love to live in this little slice of reality, you know it isn’t meant to last. People will come looking if you’re both gone too long. He sighs when you climb off him, already missing the feeling of being inside you. You both get to work on making yourselves presentable, you more so than him. You smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes and fight with your hair while he perches himself on the side of the bed, lost in thought.

“Did ya mean it?” Daryl breaks the silence.

“Hm?” You glance over your shoulder, blinking rapidly. “Mean what?”

He fights the urge to roll his eyes at you for acting innocent; you’re too smart to not know what he’s talking about.

Although, when he struggles to get the two-syllable word out himself, he can sympathize with your efforts.

“... Marriage,” he drawls, heat flooding across his face. He feels better when he sees you’re similarly embarrassed. You pad quietly against the hardwood floor (he’s always marveled over how silent your footsteps are, perfect for joining him on hunts), and sit beside him. Your arms come to wrap around his bicep. Taking a deep breath, you rest your head on his shoulder, as you’ve done multiple times prior. On the road especially.

He pulls you in closer and lays his head against yours.

“It kinda feels like we already are,” you admit. He can hear the fond smile in your voice. “You’re my home. The person I depend on most, someone I can’t do without.”

Your grip on him tightens. “However much life ahead of me I have… I want to spend it with you. If that’s alright.”

Daryl feels so light he thinks he might be floating.

There’s an underlying melancholy — the uncertainty which comes as a consequence to the world you now inhabit — yet you never let that stay the focus. You always find ways to plant seeds of tentative hope in what appears to be corrupt soil. Maybe it’s for the reason you said earlier, that you can’t let yourself dwell on the bad in fear of what it’d reduce you to, but he can’t bring himself to mind should that be the case.

What matters is that you shine bright to illuminate him when he thinks darkness is all he’ll ever know.

“‘If that’s alright’?” He repeats, incredulous. “I ain’t ever lettin’ ya go, butterfly.”

You relax, knowing Daryl’s nothing if not a man of his word.

“You’d really wanna be my husband?”

He looks at you like you have three heads. “Shouldn’t I be askin’ why the hell you wanna be my wife?”

“Because I have good taste. Also, I’m secretly aiming for your assets. We’re not getting a prenup just for that reason alone.”

Daryl snorts and shakes his head. Assets, this woman says. As if he had any in this world or the last.

“Fine by me,” he kisses your temple. “You know I’d give ya anything ya asked for.”

“... Even your crossbow?”

“Last I recall, ya could only hold it for ‘bout ten minutes ‘fore complainin’ your ‘muscles were shriveling up.’”

“You make it look so easy!” You complain, lightly hitting him on the chest. He smirks at the roundabout compliment. Your fingers linger, splaying out and making their way over to where his heart steadily beats. “Hm… can I have this, then?”

“Already do.”

He’s certain you’re well aware of the fact. After all, you are his freakishly perceptive woman.

Regardless, no matter how many times you may ask, he’ll gladly remind you, each and every time.

Ah, the things you do for the ones you love.

“We should probably head back to HQ before Rick sends a search party out for us, huh?”

Daryl’s muscles go taut at the mention of Rick. You wriggle free from beneath his arm so you can examine his face, inquisitive as ever.

“Didn’t part on the best terms with ‘im,” Daryl reveals. He takes another moment to collect his thoughts. “Kinda what started this whole thing today. Saw that Monroe kid touchin’ ya, it got me all riled up. Was aboutta make a scene til Rick stepped in. He said… said ya wouldn’t ‘ave wanted that. Thought ‘bout how he was letting ya cozy up to the folks ‘ere, knowin’ full well he planned on usin’ it to his advantage. I dunno. Made me see red.”

Your eyes hold an indescribable softness for him. “Thank you.”

“For what? Makin’ an ass of myself?” He scoffs.

“Always having my best interest in mind,” your way of wording things always sounds better. “It’s okay, though. Like I said earlier, I get why Rick’s doing what he’s doing, even if I don’t fully agree. Ultimately, we’re all on the same team.”

Daryl shakes his head. “... You’re too forgivin’, butterfly.”

You shrug. “Hafta be with family. Holding onto things never does any good in the long run. Which is why I’m sure it’ll be fine, once you talk with him.”

He doubts he’ll have a lengthy heart-to-heart like whatever you’re envisioning, but he keeps the thought to himself.

“Let’s get going, okay?” You stand and start pulling on his hands. He gets up with some reluctance, not entirely willing to leave this little world where just you and him exist. “Carol made this delicious lemonade, it’s to die for. Metaphorically.”

He gives a crooked grin. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

Daryl tugs you back to him in a mess of surprised exclamations and tumbling limbs. He secures you on his lap, fully intending to savor you a little while longer. It doesn’t take you long to relax. Not when he’s the one touching you.

“Ya already gave me a taste.”

#i'm totally normal about him i swear #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #reader insert #not sfw #my stuff

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lastoneout · 3 months

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Okay I'm finally sitting down to properly watch the PJO series so here's an episode-by-episode live blog I guess. (Fair warning, I haven't read the books since I was a teenager, I am a smidge of an apologist for the films, and my favorite adaptation so far has been the musical.)

Episode One:

All of the actors are doing a really good job, I especially like Sally.

The costume design for both the monsters and the humans is pretty killer. I want Percy's sweater.

I also love the little seaside cabin and want to live there!!!

This is such a mild gripe BUT as someone with dyslexia I wish there was a better way to visually depict it without like, doing the swapping letters thing cuz that's just not what it's actually like at all.

Gabe maybe feels a little too funny. Like I'm supposed to hate him and think it's justified that he deserves to be turned into stone at the end, this version of him is really.....toned down, and his banter with Percy and Sally was fun to watch. I should hate him, but really he just came across as unpleasant. Less abusive asshole and more "old married couple who share interests but can't communicate without shouting" you know?

Loved Grover's little "I'm 24 actually" lmao that was great.

Not a fan of Percy immediately recognizing the Minotaur within a millisecond of it appearing before the audience even got a good look at it. Like, I just sat there thinking "how can he even see it?" rather than feeling scared of a big monster barreling at them.

The action is uh....fine? Feels a little lackluster. Or kinda....divorced from the rest of the show weirdly?? Idk it makes me feel like I'm watching a movie of a movie if that makes sense?? But we'll see where they go with it. (I know banter during a fight isn't realistic and people make fun of Marvel for it, but like...it helps to have at least a little talking. We don't wanna be Man of Steel.)

I feel like there's been a few "slightly out of sync ADR" moments but they weren't too distracting.

Pacing into Sally saying goodbye felt a little long, kinda took the shock of her dying out of the scene, but the actress REALLY sold all the emotional beats so I'll forgive it.

I LOVE the credits sequence!!! Reminds me of the designs on that one box set of the books in a really cool way.

Episode Two:

Oh yes the ugly ass neon orange shirts are here bless!

FUCK YES THAT'S DIONYSUS BAYBEEE!! My ONLY note is that he def could have turned up the energy a little, but that's probably just bcs I love how loud and unpleasant he is in the musical and I also know how unhinged this actor can be.

Chiron is such a delight <3

I like the cabins too, way better than how I imagined them as a kid reading the books lol

Oh, I can see why the new fans fell for Luke so hard.

Grover assuming a human being squished would be like an old banana is very funny. Felt very book-humor in a good way.

Clarisse!!

Oh damn actual disabled half-bloods, very cool!

Minor but I can't actually tell what Percy did wrong with the bow? Weird editing I guess.

Aside from that I actually love a good "fuck up" montage, I honestly wish it were a little longer.

Probably doesn't matter but I don't get having them burn the food after they've started eating? I thought that was a before you sit down type thing.

Percy burning the blue candy to try to talk to his mom was sweet tho T_T

"real friends" hahahaha.....yeah.......about Luke.......

yay! hazing!

Oh I love Annabeth already >:D

Thalia.....is pronounced differently than I thought....?

(I'm sorry I'm too much of a fan of 'Tree on the Hill' for this exposition dump. That shit hits harder when coming from Grover.)

Percy giving Annabeth the "actually I suck and my self esteem is riding on this so like pls don't ask me to do anything hard T_T" talk is just, so good lmao

ofc he doesn't know what's going on Annabeth you didn't tell him anything

Okay the action is a lot better when it's between the actual characters and doesn't involve a 3D monster, though I still had trouble following all the hits Percy was taking.

Oooh I can see why people did so much art of Percy being claimed that was a good shot.

FUCK YEAH TELL HIM YOU'RE SALLY JACKSON'S SON

(I hope they kept the Oracle in the attic...)

Okay I have to go do some things and then I'll be back for more!

#long post #loo watches pjo #pjo spoilers

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intoxicated-chan · 2 years

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Hello! How are you doing, could I request something with lui Kang, Kung lao, fujin, and Cassie cage with a selectively mute S/O who after a while finally trust them enough to talk with them, if you don't do headcanons or imagines a fic of this for either lui Kang or Kung lao would be nice. Don't overwork yourself though.

『A Selectively Mute S/O』

♡o。.✿ฺ。Characters // Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Fujin, & Cassandra Cage

♡o。.✿ฺ。Content Warnings // gender neutral, established relationships, swearing, pet names (darling), mentions of abuse…

LIU KANG

Liu Kang is a dedicated man and when he learns from a friend of yours that you can speak. He was hellbent on making you talk, even just a simple word.

But at the end of the day, he understood that it’s your choice to speak and believes if he continues this, then you’ll be more afraid of sharing your voice with him.

Yet it still doesn’t stop him from enjoying the silent moments between the both of you.

He enjoyed it when you were in the back, watching him practice with Kung Lao and he could see you silently laughing whenever Kung Lao made a joke.

He would’ve spent time with you if he could but being the “chosen one”, Raider was on him 24/7. Even more whenever he found you with Liu Kang.

You overheard him being chewed out, Raiden’s words, “You’re growing soft.” Of course, it angered you and it angered Liu Kang but he knew better than to talk back to Raiden. You knew as well.

Liu Kang had just returned from another soaring march between Kung Lao, he was worried since you didn’t show up like usual. Yet his worries soothed when he found you reading a book in your shared bed.

He laid beside you and slipped one arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He places a cheek kiss on your forehead and lays his head on your shoulder.

The book shutting caught his ear, “Something wrong?”

Silence…

He closes his eyes, nearly falling asleep, “I hope you know… you know that I’m proud of you.”

His eyes shoot open but he’s careful with his movements, he pulls back and cups your face, “By the gods, (Y/n).” Liu Kang smiles at the sound of your voice, holding himself back from lifting you and twirling you around.

“Who cares what Raiden thinks, I just hope we can spend some time together.”

KUNG LAO

He tries to list the reasons why you don’t speak or find a cause for why you don’t speak. Was it from an accident? Or did someone do it to you?

It was on his mind to the point it was distracting him from everything. He couldn’t help it.

But it also made you more interesting, he’d try to think what your voice sounds like and how would you pronounce certain words.

He would try to get Liu Kang to agree with him and find ways to make you talk. He stopped until Kitana offered her advice.

“They must trust you, Kung Lao, they must be willing to share. You mustn’t force them.”

It hasn’t been a single minute since he earned an earful from Raiden, he caught him slacking off again. Third time this week.

But Raiden returned for more.

Kung Lao can handle flat-out insults but when Raiden compared him to Liu Kang, his heart shattered.

You were around the corner, looking for him and you followed the sound of Raiden’s voice. It felt like hours when he stopped, only scoffing at the sight of you.

You rushed to his side and saw how his head hung low, “I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

You could see a tear just ready to fall, “Don’t be.” You smiled, and his eyes filled his joy, “I’m glad I fell in love with you. Who gives a damn what Raiden thinks.”

Liu Kang fell victim to Kung Lao’s rants.

FUJIN

Never questioned it.

He thought it was normal for humans to be silent. Yet he had his suspicions, like when someone scared you from behind, all you did was jump. No shout or cry. Just jumped.

No matter the situation, nothing came out of your mouth.

There were certain times where he was worried about you. Like when he saw someone shouting at you, the only response was a middle finger.

That’s when he started speaking for you and it became a regular.

It was only a few days until Fujin became accustomed to ordering food. Then he started ordering food for you.

You both had returned from another fast-food journey, he’d be lying to himself if he rejected food.

At least a half hour has passed, now you laid on his chest as you both watched the movie. Another thing Fujin enjoyed with you, watching films together.

Whether it be children's shows or horror movies, Fujin loved it all.

Fujin looks down when he feels you shuffle, “Everything alright, darling?” You nodded, sitting comfortably on his lap.

His hands found themselves on your waist, “Beautiful.” He whispers.

“You should look at yourself.”

“…Excuse me?”

You laugh, you actually laughed. Like an audible laugh…

“Nothing can beat your beauty.”

CASSANDRA CAGE

Cassie thought about it for a while until she dropped it.

If it didn’t affect you on the field then she has no problem with you not speaking.

But she seriously thought you were just mute, complete mute, like lost your voice in an accident.

Like Fujin, she does speak for you and handles a person trying to force you to speak. It was personal for you and she didn’t want to interfere with the comfort you have with her.

That was until she learned that the only reason you joined S-F so young was to get away from your parents. Apparently, her mother had a chat with them, wanting to know if it was alright with them.

They called you every insult they could say.

Cassie stared at your sleeping form, in the fetal position, breathing softly. Jacqui had just left to return some items, leaving you and Cassie alone.

She wanted to ask you, wanted to tell you. She wanted to ask if you were okay, if you were happy now.

But she can’t force herself between your problems, no matter how good it sounds, it wouldn’t be good for you.

She sighed, picking up her reports and made her way towards the door.

“I’m happy Cassie, especially with you.” She heard you mutter.

“You sure?”

“I have no reason to lie to you.”

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #x s/o #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mk fujin #fujin x reader #cassie cage #cassie cage x reader #liu kang #liu kang x reader #kung lao #kung lao x reader #fluff #tw: mentions of abuse #mk cassie cage #mk liu kang #mk kung lao

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princess-tulip-writes · 2 years

Note

if someone hasn’t requested already can we please get azriel princess treatment 🥺 - 💞

princess treatment with azriel

- the sweetest man alive, let me tell you

- he literally worships the ground that you walk on

- praises everything that you do

- even if it’s something as little as putting plates away.

- “ you’re such a good girl, baby.”

- i feel like he gives back pats as an appreciation thing.

- like he pats your back whenever you do something good.

- kisses your nose too

- will 100% rub your feet for you

- they don’t even have to be sore, and he’ll rub them

- just wants to make you feel really good, is all.

- “my baby looked so pretty today”

- is always calling you pretty.

- you can’t escape it

- “my pretty girl”

- “come here, pretty one”

- all that stuff

- thinks that you’re just so damn gorgeous and pretty

- and you just hear the thoughts that he can keep to himself

- he thinks about how beautiful you are plenty more

- he just is very secretive

- kisses you a lot

- your hands mostly

- makes you train

- “i have to teach you how to fight, princess. you’ll need to learn to protect yourself when i’m not there.”

- but if you refuse, he’ll be a little more stern about it and explain to you why it’s so important to learn to fight for yourself

- doesn’t ever like to make you lift a finger, but this is the only exception

- makes cassian take it easy on you though, because you’re still his little princess

- usually is the only one who spars with you, in fear that someone else will be too rough with you or make you uncomfortable

- like amren

- but cassian does too, more often than anyone else tbh

- he just has to go easy or else azriel will be breathing down his neck

- you hate it

- but he does it because he loves you <3

- likes to tease you by training with you while his shirt is off

- you get so worked up and usually end up begging him to fuck you somewhere

- he loves it so much

- “what’s the matter, precious?”

- your face is all red

- “i cant help you if you don’t tell me.”

- holds you all of the time

- arm around your waist type of guy

- also really loves to fly you at night

- it’s actually kind of a night routinely thing

- really just loves to hold you as close as possible and feel your whole weight in his arms while you look at the stars, mesmerized

- there’s nothing better, he’s convinced

- buys you everything you could ever want

- there’s a dress he saw you staring at? bought it

- a necklace you like? bought it

- shoes? bought it

- and you better believe that you have a very extensive collection of lingerie in your favorite color, pattern, and material

- yes, he does like when you model them for him

- but only if you wish to

- “you’re so ravishing, princess.”

- boob guy

- not even sexually, just generally speaking

- loves to lay his head on your breasts at night, holds them for you throughout the day, kisses them if sore, ect.

- just really really loves them

- he’s definitely the type to lotion you up after a bath

- you have so many lotions in your favorite scents, it’s not even a joke

- he goes based off of which one is more moisturizing when choosing them

- so intentive

- if you like to read, get ready for plenty of books

- also, he really likes it when you read to him

- his head in your lap as you read a passage out of your favorite book to him, is so relaxing to him

- just really likes to hear your sweet voice

- “i can see why that’s your favorite book, baby.”

- if there’s someone in the inner circle that you simply don’t like, he tries to reason it out but if there’s a much deeper meaning behind it, he tries his best to keep you two away from each other

- his heart melts whenever you kiss his hands

- that’s more of a dating-him-in-genral thing but still

- has your scent memorized

- like, whenever he smells a flower that smells like you, his heart palpitates

- thinks about you 24/7

- how much he loves you, if you’re safe, if you’ve eaten, what you may be wearing that day, ect.

- you occupy his mind all of the time

- is the type to really enjoy doing night routines together

- by that i mean brushing your teeth next to each other, washing up, and a soft nightly makeout session

- will get a little sad if he comes home late and you are asleep and did everything already.

- but understands

- if you haven’t, and just fell asleep whist waiting for him, he’d politely wake you up to finish off the night

- “hey, hey, it’s just me, baby. come on, let’s go get ready for bed. i’ll carry you.”

- really loves to carry too

- he’s a very strong guy, and can handle so much weight

- tells you that it’s dumb that you think he can’t lift you, because he can

- and without strain everytime

- overall, a really great guy

#azriel 🌷#💞 anon #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader fluff #azriel shadowsinger headcanons #acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar blurb #a court of thorns and roses smut #acotar x reader smut #acotar fluff #acotar x reader fluff

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pilferingapples · 5 months

Note

7, 22, 24 Feuilly for the character ask!!

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I like that we're about 9000 percent more likely to give him dialogue than Hugo..... >< He's not even one of the Top Three Most Popular Amis in Fanwork or anything but WE REMEMBER HIM<3 And generally try to put him in group scenes and all as much as we can, if we're making those! --also also one perk of modern shift work vs canon era is that it's very VERY easy to justify Feuilly having more Off time overlapping with the other Amis and I have ZERO issues with people using that to include him in the hijinks. Put that political nerd in some Situations!!

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

...I like it when he gets nice things he wants I am a simple creature who likes fluff and fix its but I also like it a lot when he's centrally involved in activism and planning and gets to go on long rants about politics (thought I suppose for Feuilly that is also Nice Things He Wants )! I love his canon tendency to talk about his One Niche Interest, which happens to be EVERYONE IN THE WORLD <3<3<3 and I like when that gets fanwork time (although I VERY MUCH get that it's hard to do! how do you draw "intense interest in global politics and solidarity across national lines" ? it's a lot harder to compose than a handholding scene! XD) For the other part of this...ok I don't exactly dislike it but I do think it's very funny when people decide that since he's a Worker he must be a big muscledy jock laborer. He's a fan painter. Graphic Design is His Passion. His only workplace injuries are carpal tunnel and headaches from paint vapors and eyestrain from going over the same dozen damn seasonal motifs for twelve hours at a time XD Sorry to all the art idealizing men of the Working Classes as Big Buff Hulks, Feuilly is a little glass cannon with puny wizard arms and a migraine (I love him) .

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

..man that is HARD. There are not a lot of characters like Feuilly! Even heroic characters! Especially when so many heroic characters spend huge chunks of their story going " oooohhhh nooooo pleeeaaase don't tell me I have to use my cool powers to do awesome things, I'm just a little birthday boy" and Feuilly's whole thing is I WILL SAVE THE WORLD ARMED WITH BASIC LITERACY AND SOME DAMN COMPASSION

I...y' know what? Captain Kirk. Original flavor, poetry-quoting Stack of Books With Legs James T. " Let Me Help" Kirk. And I wish I could think of more characters like this because I love them, but well, here we are.

#thank you!#sorry these are taking forever #but I'm very much enjoying them #askbox games #Feuilly talk

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captain-peanut110 · 4 months

Text

Percy Jackson and the Olympians episodes one and two, immediate impressions

Written by someone who absolutely lived those books as a kid and is no less obsessed with them as a grown up.

I will try to avoid spoilers for anything that comes later in the book or in later books in case people who have only watched the show will be reading this, but there might still be unintentional spoilers and there definitely will be spoilers for how the event of the first two episodes went down in the book.

I have been waiting since before the old movies came out, suffered the disappointment of their existence, was part of the collective agreement Lightning Thief had no sequel and am finally ready to see them try again.

I have just finished re-reading the first series and am nearing the end of House of Hades, so all the book stuff is fresh in my mind.

(I also bough the first five and all five Trials of Apollo for only £12 yesterday 🎊🎊🎊 now my tiny London apartment is flooded with books I already have no space for 🤣🤣🤣 so worth it though.)

Episode 1

- seems lovely so far;

- Percy is perfectly himself and the acting is damn decent;

- Little Percy is very cute, but also sort of spooky, make me think of the ocean, no matter what, there is always something eerie about it;

- Nancy is as awful, as she has to be and it is a nice thought that Percy understands she bullies him because of her own issues, yet also acknowledges it is still not okay;

- Brunner is perfect, they nailed his feel and presence 10/10. Why is his horse part not white though? Come on, it doesn’t have to match his skin tone and would have looked super cool, setting him apart from other centaurs like it does in the books;

- The kindly one (what they call Furies in the book) is well done and properly terrifying;

- Sally Jackson is the star, seriously, she is everything;

- Smelly Gabe is authentic enough to smell him trough the screen;

- Super funny that his reward for letting them take the car in the show is a sandwich he never ends up getting at all. At least in the books he got his dips

- BUT!!!!! Wtf with Gabe saying please? And them watching the game together? Why is he suddenly not that terrible??? How could they have decided to give redeeming qualities to this guy??? He is like the definition of awful and there really was no need to make him better in any way.

Initially I did not particularly notice this, because he was disgusting in my eye, yet upon watching for the second time, I replied he repeatedly said please and his conversation with Sally seemed suddenly more like banter than the awful way he treated her in the books. This gives their marriage something to it and makes it feel like there might have been a reason why they got married other than Sally wanting to protect Percy though Gabe's smell. And that is just wrong. Gabe was absolutely the king of awful in the books and he should have stayed that way.

I felt like I had to go back to add this point, because I missed it in my initial watching when I was writing this immediate reaction.

It can be argued that even the worst abusers are not horrible 24/7 and are ofter nice to the people around them from time to time, which makes it even more confusing and hard to leave them. But this does not really fit to the situation here, Gabe had zero redeeming qualities in the book and I can't see why there would be a need to give him any in the show;

- Sally being firmly on Percy’s side is pure gold and absolute parenting goals;

- Blue candy !!!!

- D’Angelo sandwiches though??? Hmmm…

- “Who is Yantsy?” 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Gabe is so dumb, i love it;

- Hades is not satan, they finally got that right! At least I think that’s supposed to be Hades;

- Can’t stress enough how awesome it is that Percy is not an orphan in the books. His relationship with Sally is everything. It is also a whole lot less lazy than just having an orphaned protagonist and also a lot more relatable for the readers;

- I love the scene where Percy is confused and scared, trying to get her to stop, but Sally keeps talking, as if she knows if she does not say it out loud, she will never be able to;

- Sally: “He was a god.” Percy: “You fell in love with Jesus?” 🤣🤣🤣

- Grover is so funny though, I can’t even;

- The Minotaur cgi looks decent;

- And he is wearing underpants!!!

- Bye-bye Gabe’s car;

- Grover is supposed to be unconscious!!! That’s a major point of his later self-torments, the fact that he got knocked out and Percy had to carry him all the way.

I cannot see why he needed to be present for this scene. He doesn’t do much of anything other than having Sully make him swear to protect Percy, although I am not certain what that was emphasised for?

- Sally is badass! Hell yeah for mothers doing mad stuff to protect their babies, super on point and as someone who does have a baby, super realistic;

- Noooo!!! Sally!!! Proper heartbreaking;

- He did not have the sword yet! Or Grover there! And he fought the Minotaur anyways!!!

It was supposed to be the first sing of his endless courage bordering on idiocy and a serious lack in the self preservation department when it comes to people he loves being in danger.

Which ultimately is a super important point in the story. I feel they missed an opportunity to show just how many fucks are absolutely not given when Percy sees somebody dear to him threatened;

- He does still kill him with the horn, not the sword, so I guess I can forgive the sword being there for a brief second. Although it would certainly add more meaning if it wasn’t;

- Show us how he carried Grower to Camp after killing the Minotaur!!! Percy did it all on his own, no help whatsoever! That’s part of what made other campers so interested in him!

- Annabeth!!! My best girl!!!

Episode 2

- Percy’s eyes are so book accurate, a proper proper sea green, I am happy happy happy;

- And Walker is such a perfect fit for the role, it really feels like he is Percy. I can forgive them for not having someone else, who had dark hair, his casting in on par.

Also I feel like nailing his eyes is more important than hair. They are an important part of the character, a reflection of his connection to the ocean.

I can also completely get behind not immediately wanting to dye a child’s hair, so it’s not that important.

I am personally of the opinion, that unless a character’s appearance is a point in the plot, such as relation to a certain someone hinted at trough similarity in looks/belonging to a certain group/coming from a certain place/being singled out positively or negatively because of certain features/etc, changing it doesn’t matter;

A good example is the colour of Percy’s eyes. It needs to be maintained, as they are a reference to his father being Poseidon and him being a child of the sea;

- The same goes for Leah, she has absolute Annabeth energy and is just perfect every step of the way, so the fact that she ain’t blonde doesn’t really matter. It was not a particular plot point in the books and the change will not affect her character in any way;

(If Elle Woods suddenly wasn’t blonde anymore, that would be insane, in Annabeth’s case, it is not that important.)

- Aww, Percy thinks Poseidon is going to be there at camp, that’s heartbreaking :((

- Peter Johnson !!!

- ‘He’s starting with me!’

- For a moment I thought he was gonna say ‘the wine dude Dionysus’ 🤣 that would hardy have ended well;

- ‘Your Highness’ 🤣🤣🤣 Percy is adorable;

- Mister D pretending to be Percy’s dad and trying to get him to fetch a bottle of wine is sooooo funny, I died. Chiron’s face though… 🤣🤣🤣 ‘I could be!’ ‘But are you?!’

And this:

- ‘Son.’

- ‘Dad?’

- ‘Yes Peter!’

- ‘Percy!’

- ‘Exactly’

- And Percy looking at Mr D and thinking: ‘Mom fell in love with and spoke so highly of this guy? He is basically Divine Gabe.’

I will be anything upon first meeting him in the show and hearing the ‘i am your dad’ thing, that is exactly what Percy is thinking. ‘Oh no, my dad is the Less Smelly Gabe?‘

- The Hermes cabin is looking good, the chaos seems very authentic;

- As someone who had been bullied at school for different from other kids, it is a very touching moment, when Percy is sure the Hermes kids are about to start some trouble, but Luke is just so lovely to him instead.

It is honestly every weird kid’s dream to have someone approach them with something kind to say.

And when he says: ‘you are just like everyone else here’, it must have felt so nice for Percy to finally hear something like that, like there is somewhere he can belong as himself;

- Luke, my sweet tragic baby ❤️ i cannot help loving him so damn much;

His underlying wistfulness and hidden pain from not feeling loved by his dad break my heart into a million pieces. And the way he just older-brothers Percy from the beginning is everything ❤️

- But does this show hate blonde people?

Cause Luke isn’t blonde either. 🤣

Once again, great acting, charisma and that feel of Luke’s powerful awesomeness tinted with desolate melancholy was captured brilliantly.

Charles does have that vibe and is great in the role. But I just had to note the ‘nobody is blonde’ thing cause it’s funny;

- More importantly though, WHERE IS LUKE’S SCAR??? That little scrape he’s got on his face is way too small and insignificant to be the unfortunate trophy from a dragon fight.

It looks nowhere near ghastly enough!

The whole point was that Luke was super handsome, but his scar was there like a tear in a beautiful portrait.

Charles is a good looking fella, he could have easily pulled off having a huge scar running across half of his face and still be a ladies’ dream;

- The Dryad with Grover has such sweet motherly vibes;

- Is it me or do Grover’s goat legs appear somewhat skinny?

- ‘Like an old banana’ Damn, Grover. I feel like this nicely reminds everyone Grover is not the human child he appears as;

- I feel like it is more realistic that Percy comes to believe his mother can be saved from the underworld by himself, since it is pretty logical, if the underworld is a place you can go to, you could theoretically bring someone back.

There didn’t really need to be an ominous investigation conducted by Grover for Percy to come upon that idea;

- More creepy ass dreams;

- CLARISSE MUST BE BUFFER!!!

And here I somewhat don’t get it.

Cause Dior looks perfectly buff enough for the part in pictures online, but it almost feels like they made her look smaller on camera, instead of using filming techniques to make her look even bigger.

All I could think while watching those scenes was “Clarisse must be bigger!”. Why does she look so skinny in the show, when the actress has got proper muscles irl?

- Percy being terrible at everything he tries reminds me of Harry trying the wands out and making stuff blow up

- He set the Hephaestus kids’ stuff on fire 🤣🤣🤣 Leo should have been there 😉

- Is there a god of disappointment 🤣🤣🤣

- But you burn the stuff to send a message to the gods, not mortals or dead people. Burnt offerings are only messages to a god they are offered for.

Did Percy misunderstand this or did the makers of the show?

Cause there should be no way for Sally to have actually gotten that message;

- Burning candy and talking to mama hits right home though. Very painful, peak cinema, hurts a lot. Poor little Percy, he just needs a hug;

- Not from a gutter, Clarisse, what the actual?!?!

- Aaaand Supreme Lord of the Bathroom emerges!!!

I just love how good old Jonny outright refuses to harm Percy.

But does this mean Poseidon is the god of toilet water as well 🤣🤣🤣 what about everything that is flushed with it? Would he have power over that as well? Or only clean gutter water?

Also!!! Is Percy immune to ‘the Neptune’s kiss’?

(‘The Neptune’s kiss’ - is an unfortunate occurrence while going number two, when one of them lot falls down into the bowl with a blast and the water splashes back onto your unprotected buttcheeks.)

Cause that would be a seriously cool ability to have indeed;

- Annabeth!!! Always a win for Annabeth!!!

‘i can explain!’ ‘No you can’t!’

Absolutely chemistry

‘Are you stalking me, Annabeth?’ ‘Yes’

- Forbidden kids… hmm.. that’s an interesting way of putting it;

- Annabeth is Sherlock with better social skills? Hell yeah, Percy can be her sword-wielding Watson;

- Their armour looks so good! Like actually pleasant to look at, you can see effort and thought went into the costumes in the show.

Seeing them all dressed up reminds me of the longstanding tradition at Camp Halfblood of running outside wearing a breastplate and underpants when danger strikes in the middle of the night!

I really really hope they show that in this series;

- Percy should appreciate Annabeth standing there silently and waiting for him to get up, since any other classmate from his past would have made fun of his fall and certainly would not have waited for him to get up.

The way Annabeth reacted is decent between two warriors.

She did not mock his fall, waited for him to get up and made no unkind comments about it afterwards.

She did not help him get up, because he does not need assistance with such a minor trouble, which is something Percy will have to learn very soon.

As someone who has been bullied back at school, sometimes standing there silently is the nicest way someone you don’t know very well can react to you embarrassing yourself;

- I love how Annabeth doesn’t flaunt her being better at stuff in Percy’s face, he is the one who says that in a fit of self deprecation.

The writers could have easily had her say something like ‘of course i’m better’, as happens a lot in modern cinema, when characters boast about how awesome they are instead of showing it.

She respectfully listens to his ranting, then simply straightens out his breastplate, which is such an adorable moment between them my heart is going to shatter into a million pieces.

She then proceeds to tell him ‘you don’t even know how you fit into all this’ , basically saying ‘you don’t know how powerful you are’, but Annabeth is being wise.

She knows there is no point in telling Percy how awesome he could be. She believes in him and knows he needs discover his awesomeness on his own.

(I am currently re-reading The House of Hades, about half-ways trough.

Thus seeing cute Percy and Annabeth moments soothes by bleeding heart.

If you know you know, not gonna spoil an ancient book, ahahahha. )

- Yankees’ cap!!! (I know i am way too easily excited to see stuff from the book, but I was a Percy Jackson fan when the first movie came out and i still carry that damage, so cut me so slack)

- Game on! And she absolutely believes in him and never says anything demeaning, that is so awesome.

There is a trend in modern cinema to show characters’ badassness and awesomeness by having them be demeaning and rude to their companions.

This has been around for a while where the guy who was the best at everything was just allowed to be awful to everybody because of it.

Recent it has infected movies with female leads, as if the only way a woman can be portrayed as strong and capable is by being a bully to lesser men around her.

I love what they did with Annabeth here.

She is spectacular, she’s got a great plan, she knows it, she doesn’t have to repeat it.

But she does not need to be compared to Percy to be amazing, she simply is.

She also has faith in Percy and is supportive of him, without being patronising or feeling the need to over-explain.

She is confident he will know what to do when the time comes and believes honestly he will do well.

She does not tell him what to do because she is sure he will know when the time comes and that is a smart way to teach him a lesson about having faith in himself;

- Luke is so awesome, they nailed him! His faith in Annabeth and the way he says ‘Percy’s on it’ with no doubt whatsoever… i am loving it all;

- Percy is authentically adhd, this shit is so relatable 🤣

Petting that lizard is such a banger thing to do, i mean…

- It did not happen in the books like this, but these are such Percy moments, i cannot even 🤣 the main actor was a top choice;

- Closing your eyes and touching leafs or rocks is something I also absolutely love doing, Percy knows what’s on;

- Clarisse’s spear looks nifty as heck.

While I did complain that she needs to be bigger, Dior is perfect in this role. The casting generally is great so far.

She does portray the big bully energy really well;

- I have enjoyed the fight, although wasn’t Percy only supposed to get his power up after he touched the water? (I most honestly don’t remember)

Here it seems the presence of the river so close was enough and I must agree that it does look awesome when he suddenly begins fighting properly;

- And he falls into the water, heals up and is claimed by Poseidon. Precious!

- I am loving the Poseidon cabin vibes, it is just like the ocean. Beautiful and charming, but eerie and mysterious;

- I do not understand why they had to change it from Percy taking the quest immediately with the hidden idea of saving his mother, to his blatantly refusing the quest, only to have Grover tell him Sally can be saved to sway him to go anyways.

I think this was somewhat of a weird choice, but maybe it will matter later on, who knows.

It does fix up the rift between Grover and Percy with the whole Grover lying and getting him expelled situation, but that wasn’t really in the book at all, so…

I guess they wanted to try and not copy the book word for word, but Percy refusing the quest so harshly out of self preservation we have already established he doesn’t have much of seems a little out of character.

Maybe they are trying to emphasise that he would do anything to save his mom, but even without that, Percy would still have agreed to save the world and all, that’s his whole point.

And he did go with the idea of saving his mother in the book, he just didn't Grover to tell him it was possible, he simply refused to accept his mother was dead and was set on getting her back.

He is not a reluctant hero, he marches head first into danger, risks his life to save the world all the time and eats reality shattering prophecies for breakfast. (If you know you know ;)) )

I guess it doesn’t matter all that much.

In the book and the show he agreed to go on a quest in great part because he thought he could to save his mother, it was just presented differently. But I do feel once again they are diminishing Percy’s badassery.

This sweet and wonderful child doesn't need anybody's permission or reassurance, he simply though: 'Wow, there is my opportunity to go to the underworld, my mother must be there, to hell with Hades, I will make him give her back!"

He basically thought she was dead and still planned on getting her back anyways!!!

As we have seem during the duel with the Minotaur, when given proper motivation (or simply when pissed off and/or desperate enough) Percy is absolutely unhinged.

He takes no shits from anyone, god, monster, or whatever else.

It just feels a bit weird to see Percy Jackson yelling ‘no’ to a quest.

And feels like Percy's determination and intelligence are diminished because he did not come upon the idea of saving Sally on his own.

- Also, since when does Percy have a sense of self-preservation, aahahaha he could have really used a bit more of that in the books

Overall 7/10 so far

One point off for the removal of Percy's grand refusal to accept death and his brilliant sneaky plan to attempt bringing his mother back from the underworld while the quest for the Masterbolt provides a valid reason to go there. Seriously, this was perfectly devious in the books. He kept the idea to himself and simply nursed a plan to basically bring his mother back from the dead all on his own.

One point off for Luke’s scar being tiny. Everything else appearance wise is not important cause the actors are great. But not giving Luke the proper huge scar is a cosmetic decision that I do not condone

And one extra point off for Gabe saying please and having redeeming human features, as well as Sally actually wanting to watch the game with him, I could not imagine she would have ever wanted to do anything with Smelly Gabe, no no no no no

All in all, this is great so far, I need more with urgency.

Thank you for reading this much 💚

#percy jackon and the olympians #disney #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #luke castellan #rick riordan #riordanverse #percabeth #clarisse la rue #dyonisus #hades #hades is not satan #please for Hera’s sake Hades is not satan and the Underworld is not hell #so far so good

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rhymey-workshop · 9 months

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Feel free to skip. TW: I'm joining the military.

Growing up is really hard, and I don't think we realize that until we're on the verge of a big change, standing on the border between two parts of your life, balancing on a precipice before you take the swan dive known to many as change.

I'm packing my things. My dad finally brought home boxes and storage tubs and I'm finally packing my things, and that makes the passage of time so much more real.

I'm packing my things. My mom opened the door to tell me to watch my sleeping brother, and said nothing about the fact my room is a mess, or that I was just staring blankly at the cardboard box I just taped the bottom of. That box is ready for my craft books and paint stuff, my origami paper, my reading stand, my books on how to make stuff like children's books and animation. She made no mention of it all, just made that same pinched expression she has for weeks and then schooled her expression into something more neutral as she nodded towards the bedroom where my brother is and after a moment I got up and stumbled in, sitting at the foot of the bed to type out some kind of vent on Tumblr.

I'm packing my things, and I'm stuck between wanting to cry and finding myself unable to cry. I'm leaving home. I've been dreaming of getting out of here off and on since I was 13. At times I had a countdown of years, months, weeks, days that I had to stay, that I had to wait for the day I could finally leave. It made being angry or sad or any other complicated emotion easier. It made hardship easier to cope with. It made it easier to get through the hard times because I knew I could leave and nothing could stop me.

I'm packing my things, slowly, piece by piece, and I'm starting to understand the weight of what my dad said, when he said I was the first person on either side of my family in generations to not run away from home before turning 18. My mom left home at 17, my dad spent more days out of the house than in it as a teenager and left the god damn country. My bio paternal family has these issues too. My maternal family is full of people that ran off, that stayed away from home and didn't look back. My mom only speaks to one sister, and can't speak to her brother as long as their mother is alive. I didn't leave. I finished high school, I got my diploma, I took my time and I didn't leave before I was a legal adult.

I'm packing my things to leave home, and it's hard. It's scary. I've never been away from home for very long, and here I am, getting ready to do something more than just "Move out".

I'm packing my things, putting my life into boxes, sorting what's going to stay, waiting for me to return, what's getting tossed, what's going to get donated or given away. I keep finding things and remembering shit related to them. I keep finding things and remembering who gave them to me. I keep finding things and remembering which parent smiled when I got it.

I'm packing my things, and in a way I'm also processing a kind of grief I didn't know existed.

I'm leaving home for something I thought through for 8 months, and I'm coming up on the one year anniversary since I made my decision. It's been just under two since I signed the dotted line, swore in, and came home to congratulations and a sureness that I'm doing the right thing for me.

In 5 days, I'm going to my last meeting. Getting a send off from a group of people doing the same thing. A couple of them doing the EXACT same thing.

In 9 days, I'll spend the last full 24 hours I've got with my family, eating a fruit tart and playing putt putt. I'll say good night and that'll be the last time I see them for months at the very least.

In 10 days, I'm hiding my key on the porch and walking out the front door while everyone is asleep. They'll wake up and I'll be hundreds of miles away from them. In 10 days, I'm hopping in a big unmarked government van (and this will never not be funny to me) with like 5 other people and we're all doing the same thing. We're going somewhere and we have no idea what is really waiting for us.

In 11 days, I'm not in civilian limbo anymore. As it stands I am subject to the UCMJ but I'm not a sailor yet. In 11 days, I'm a recruit, and that's fucking dizzying to think about.

I'm getting ready to start a new part of my life and it's going to be exciting and new and I'll make friends and I'll go a couple places and I'll have stories to tell my brother and family. I think I'll be better, when all is said and done.

But right now, I'm packing my things into boxes and tubs, and right now, I want to cry.

#if you read this far #and want to know why the fuck I am joining up #the reasons are #in order #i dont know what im doing with my life but want out of this town #submarines are fucking awesome #and im poor #i got a 98 on my asvab and i think i picked a pretty neat job #i guess there is also a family history component #5th generation to serve #basic training #sad thoughts #growing up #us navy #im scared tbh #but thats okay

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 5 months

Text

I watched TBOSAS today (Sunday) and I’m sadly not very well (bad cold or flu), but I wanted to try and make a little post to appreciate the film/give my thoughts.

I saw the first three Hunger Games movies on opening weekend during my teens - the only one I didn’t watch at the cinema was Mockingjay Part 2, because it coincided with my GCSE mocks and some other stuff I had going on. I saw the first one twice at the cinema, once on opening weekend with one friend and then a second time with my then-best friend a few weeks later; I saw CF and MJP1 with my younger sister on opening weekend because it’s one of the few series we both love and so it’s one of the few things we can both enjoy together. My point is that I’m a huge THG fan, have been since I read the first book in late 2011 when I was 13 - I even still have my Mockingjay pin that I bought in March 2012 from Waterstones that I still wear!

Anyway, I read TBOSAS during lockdown, my sister bought the book and let me read it after she did, so this has been one of my most anticipated movies of the year!

!Spoilers below!

I was ill when I watched it and I’m even iller now but I’ll try to remember as much as I can

I LOVED IT

I’m glad they made Coriolanus Snow hot because I felt so conflicted watching him and that’s EXACTLY what was needed for the character, he’s got this beautiful exterior but he is POISON inside

Rachel Zegler was AMAZING by the way, I’m not her biggest fan by any means but I say fuck the haters

Hunter Schafer as Tigris was AMAZING casting, she really needs to shine away from Euphoria because damn she was so good in this film

Just in general casting ATE in this movie; Viola Davis, Peter Dinklage, Jason Schwartzman etc

Tigris was spot on: “I wouldn’t sing a note for you” and pointing out that Coryo needed to get Lucy Gray’s trust in order to help her win

Arachne Crane deserved death, idc 🤷‍♀️

NO ARACHNE FUNERAL LIKE THE BOOK?!?

The fact that the tributes were just dumped in a zoo and put on display like animals?!? Compared to six and a half decades later where the tributes are glammed up and treated like royalty, even allowed to train before entering the arena??? I love how starkly different it is

I won’t lie, Lucky Flickerman stole the film whenever he was in the scene 😭😅 absolute scene stealer?!?

Lucky trying to cancel his dinner reservations on night 1 of the games because “this is taking longer than I expected” 💀

Also telling one of the mentors not to puke on the floor after their tribute was killed?!?! Iconic really

“Those drones really are not very good” - PLEASE 😭

You can definitely tell Lucky is an ancestor of Caesar lol

The bow and arrow when Coryo enters the arena?!?! 👀🏹

Coryo killing Bobbin was BRUTAL. He could have stopped after the first hit, that was self defence - but he carried on and kept hitting him. It was definitely a huge moment

I obviously knew Wovey wasn’t going to survive, but god DAMN it 😭 DID THEY HAVE TO MAKE HER SO SWEET AND LIKEABLE?!? She just wanted to go home, and those were her last words before she was killed by the snakes 😭

Coryo really cheated just so Lucy Gray could survive, and it still has me questioning whether he cares for her or if it is just to do with the Plinth prize? 🤔

“What are the Hunger Games for, Mister Snow?” And all I can think about was him explaining in the original HG movie why there’s a Victor, why they don’t just kill 24 kids at random:

THE SNAKE SCENE IN THE ARENA WHERE LUCY GRAY SINGS?!? ASDFGHJKL THIS IS CINEMA

The Games felt so much more primal and sad, like you could tell all of them were just trying to survive, even Coral who seemed to target Lucy Gray ruthlessly but then before her death made the comment that it can’t have all been for nothing…

The fact that Gaul didn’t want to call an end to the games even though Lucy Gray was the final survivor, and it was only when the other mentors were chanting to let her out, to call it, that she finally did it…

I nearly lost my shit during the first hanging scene because I suddenly remembered that THIS was what the Hanging Tree song was based on; “they strung up a man they say who murdered three” “dead man called out for his love to flee” etc. And that is EXACTLY what happened, right to a tee: the man protesting his innocence, calling for his love to go…

Listen I may be REALLY off, but the meadow where Coryo and Lucy Gray met up again… is it the same meadow from the final scene in Mockingjay P2 with Everlark and their kids?!?

It probably isn’t but it reminded me of it idk

THE KATNISS PLANT - FORESHADOWING 😭 “it’s not ready yet” “things change fast” ASDFGHJKL

SEJANUS PLINTH YOU HAVE ALWAYS DESERVED BETTER 😭 knew it was coming but I was so sad

The scene where they hang Sejanus was so chilling, because the birds (i think they were Jabberjays and not Mockingjays but I could be wrong?) repeated his blood curdling calls for help as he was hung, like I was so haunted by it afterwards

No wonder Coriolanus Snow hates the fucking birds, Jesus Christ

THE CABIN AND WOODS SCENES?!?

The absolute tonal shift when he finds the guns, when Lucy Gray remarks that she’s the only loose end as if it’s a taunt, a challenge etc.

Coriolanus running through the woods, screaming “AFTER EVERYTHING I HAVE DONE FOR YOU?!?” - it just SCREAMS toxic relationship quite frankly, like whether you believe there was any genuine love at all or not, it just screams how toxic the relationship was between them. It was doomed from the start frankly

I was so concerned that the film would make it clear whether or not he killed Lucy Gray, but thankfully they left it ambiguous just like the book. Did one of his bullets hit her? Did she fly free?

It’s so interesting that Lucy Gray and her games were completely and utterly wiped, there was no trace of them - but her songs, her art, survived even after she disappeared. Songs like the Meadow song and the Hanging Tree survived and were passed on through District 12, becoming part of their culture - Snow couldn’t destroy that, no matter how hard he might have tried

Someone on Twitter made this comment and I agree:

Also YES, I noticed that Tigris called him “Coryo” until their last scene together, and then it was “Coriolanus” 😭 and also the fact that she warned him not to turn into his father, his father had hate in his eyes… and then at the end, she sadly tells him “you look like your father, Coriolanus” 😭

The small little hints of the man Coriolanus Snow is in the original series though??? The roses, the Katniss plant Easter egg, etc. And then there’s the fact we see glimpses of what later became his preferred method of killing his enemies - poison. He put poison in the compact and gave it to Lucy Gray, and then he poisoned Casca Highbottom… it’s just so fascinating to think of who this young 18 year old becomes later on, the way he changed over the course of the next 64 years and how those changes came directly from what happened in this story.

Ending the film with Donald Sutherland’s delivery of “It’s the things we love the most that destroy us” from the original movies?!?! FUCK YEAH I WAS THIS CLOSE TO SCREAMING

Honestly it’s got to be VERY hard to play a younger version of a Donald Sutherland character, but especially this one because that man KILLED the part in the films, but I think Tom Blyth did a really good job and I could definitely see hints of the older Snow being included in his performance, like I could genuinely believe it was the same character?

The fact that 64 years later a dark haired girl from District 12 wearing a mockingjay pin and singing songs once sung by a girl he thought dead absolutely fucked his life up?!? We love to see it. It’s like Lucy Gray gave him a middle finger lol

I’ll be honest, as soon as we left the cinema I said to my sister “the only thing is now I want to watch the original four Hunger Games movies” 😭

That’s all I can think of right now because I’m very feverish, I’ve got work in the morning and it was also a long film so there was a LOT going on, but I absolutely LOVED IT. The Hunger Games has truly been the only franchise that has a prequel that has been nearly universally loved and accepted by the fans, Suzanne Collins is truly amazing.

#the hunger games #thg #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #tom blyth #rachel zegler #hunter schafer

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camels-pen · 20 hours

Text

oh to dream a dream

summary: Careless words can lead to indulgent sleep.

based on @seaglass-skies' prompt "Jazz has never had a sibling. So who is this other teenager in the old photo album she found? And why is the bedroom across from hers so empty?"

Ao3 Link | Phight ‘24 series

The atmosphere was quiet, homey. Chirping birds could be heard through the cracked window off to the side and there was a low level chatter throughout the whole place.

Jazz took a deep breath in, smelling the scent of dark roast and vanilla bean that had permeated itself into the walls and floor, that drifted up to greet her like a tired lover.

Usually, she'd chide herself on such cheesy thoughts—maybe make a mental note to stop reading so many romance novels and crack open more psych textbooks—but she was feeling good today. Good and content.

So much so, in fact, that she didn't even feel the sting of embarrassment as someone nudged past her where she was standing, blocking the open door to the coffee shop.

She gave a short apology, tapped each pocket on her shoulder bag just in case, and then walked to the front register.

“Jazzy-babe!” Edward said, grinning wide at her. “Girl, I haven't seen you in ages!”

Jazz smiled back, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Ugh, I know right? Sorry—” She paused to wipe her face, sniffling a little. “I've really missed this place.”

“Oh honey.” Ed came around the counter to scoop her into a hug. He patted her back as he said, “There's no need to cry, you're here now, aren't you?”

Jazz laughed. She must really be a mess for Ed to come all the way around for a hug rather than just lean over the counter. “Yeah—yeah I'm here now. These are more happy tears than anything else, to be honest.”

Ed gave her a few more pats before returning to the register. “Good. Happy tears are the best kind of tears. We don't need anything else.” Actually, tears of sadness and frustration were also rather important to keeping a healthy emotional balance, but Jazz understood and appreciated the sentiment. “What can I get for you, hon?”

“Just a latte, I've got to—” Jazz paused. “Oh, sorry, I just started talking on autopilot. I don't have any chores or homework today, so I'm staying for the long haul.”

“From open to close!” Ed laughed. “Just like when you first started coming here.”

Jazz smiled. ”Yup, back to my old ways.“

”So we're going with a large latte and three chocolate and almond croissants?“

”Make it four, please.“

The shop was rather slow—an odd sight for a coffee shop at 9 in the morning—so while Ed and his new coworker worked, Jazz propped herself against the counter and chatted with him. Turned out he'd gotten himself a new boyfriend—long distance this time, all the way up north in Ontario, Canada in some place called 'Barrie'—and he's planning to renew his passport and go visit him some time this summer.

Jazz shared her own news—the hazards of 12th grade English classes with a substitute teacher for half the semester, all of her friends managing to catch the flu at the same time a few months ago, and her overbearing parents insisting she apply for some fake program called 'ecto-biology' at the University of Madison Wisconsin.

Ed laughed along and, traitor that he was, said she should give it a shot anyway and that it might be fun. Jazz wasn't so sure.

Soon, her drink and pastries were done and she said her goodbyes before ensconcing herself to the little corner in the back of the shop, far from the door and mostly covered by a massive bird of paradise plant.

She set down her things, took out a hefty book titled 'Psychology and You: A Look into the Self' and cracked open the front cover.

—

“...azz!“

“...ease, don't wan... urt y...!”

“...rry!”

—

Jazz felt a tap at her shoulder and she blinked. She groaned and rubbed at her eyes. “Geez, I haven’t done that since middle school.” And damn, that was satisfying.

Ed chuckled as she stretched out her arms. “Sounds like you needed it.”

Jazz packed up her stuff and gave Ed a goodbye hug before heading out. If there's one thing Jazz Fenton knew, it was when she'd overstayed her welcome.

She blinked, then furrowed her brows. Where did that come from? It was closing time so she needed to leave, it wasn't like she'd stayed too long at a friend's house.

“Maybe I conflated it with the feeling of being in someone else's home?” she mumbled to herself. “The place does feel like it's Ed's pride and joy even though he's not the owner.”

The owner himself was a crabby man who had hated Jazz since the first moment he spotted her walking in, all of 12 years old and looking for a safe and quiet place to do her math homework. She didn't have any money then, thinking the shop was similar enough to a library what with all the people she saw reading quietly through the windows. The man was ready to kick her out, citing that only paying customers were allowed to sit in his shop and that all children were rabble and ruffians regardless of age.

It was Edward then, all of 16 and newly hired, who had bought her a hot cocoa and claimed her dad had already bought a drink for her earlier in the day and Ed had been waiting for her. Ed was chewed out for it since apparently that wasn't a thing they allowed at the shop, but Jazz was allowed to stay. She learned for future visits to bring along her allowance and when the owner wasn't here, Ed would let her sit in the shop without buying anything.

Now if only a certain someone else would be so kind—

Jazz stumbled. “Dumb rock,” she grumbled, shaking out her foot. “What was I thinking about again?”

—

“You’re always in my business! It’s annoying!”

“I’m in your business because I care about you!”

“You sound like mom and dad! And didn’t you always say privacy was important to growing kids?!”

“It is! It is, but this is different; Danny, I’m afraid you’re doing something dangerous. Something that could get you hurt. If there’s some big bad ghost villain you should come to me—”

“Of course.” He scoffed. “You can’t fucking trust me to take care of myself, as per usual. I’m just your idiot little brother who would die a horrible death the moment you take your eyes off me, aren’t I?”

She gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

“W-Wait, I didn’t mean it like that—”

—

“Oh Jazzypants!” Dad called. “You think you could come down and help your old man with something?”

“Sorry Dad! I’m doing something important!” Jazz called back, laid on her stomach on her bed, a chewed up pencil in hand as she hovered over a ‘Who will be your boyfriend? (NSYNC edition)’ quiz. “I’m doing this for Kendra, but man I hope I get Justin.”

She continued to circle the letters on the quiz and eventually finished and flipped to the back of the magazine. “Ugh, Lance? Maybe I should just burn this.” As she shifted her hand, she noticed neat cursive handwriting under the answer key that read: ‘Jazz, I don’t care if you got Lance, DO NOT BURN THIS.’

She was tempted to burn it anyway.

A gust of wind blew through her room, ruffling the pages of the magazine and throwing her hair all around. Jazz had to slap a hand on the book to keep it from flying away. The wind died down after a moment and she huffed, a bit of hair fluttering up with the action before falling back down. “Perfect, amazing, exactly what I needed.”

Jazz pushed herself up and slammed the window down. Her dad yelled if she was alright, but she didn’t answer. Flopping herself down on her bed, she flipped back to the quiz and erased her answers. “I’m gonna get Justin this time,” she grumbled, starting the quiz over.

Just as she had gotten to the second question, another gust of wind blew through her room. This time the magazine wasn’t safe and tumbled to the carpet. She pushed her hair back from her face and left her room to investigate.

Mom and Dad’s room was fine. The bathroom too. The storage closet didn’t have a window and the hallway one has been busted shut for years.

Jazz stood in front of the door across from her room. She slowly put a hand on the doorknob. Twisted it. Then pushed.

Peeking into the room, she looked around. It was empty and collecting dust, just as it always was. She always felt uneasy just looking into the room so hopefully the window was—

Ah, it was open. Of course.

Jazz gulped. She willed herself forward. Fear was just fear and there was nothing of any real harm in the room. She repeated that to herself over and over as she tiptoed inside, heading for the window.

There were no furniture, no decorations, no new paint on the walls. It was just a plain blue—

Jazz shook her head and rubbed her eyes. Beige, the original house’s wall colours were beige with a white trim.

She continued her journey and eventually made it, sliding the window closed as gently as she could, lest she disturb the stifling atmosphere she found herself in.

Jazz was about ready to tiptoe her way out—or maybe just run for it to make it quicker—when her eyes caught on a photo album on the floor. It was 4th of July themed and was laid spine up, as if it had falled off of something and landed on its pages.

And, well, Jazz was never one to leave a book like that, no matter the circumstances.

With hesitant hands, she picked up the book, her thumb automatically marking the open pages. She marvelled at the peeling silver stars on the front and back cover and the almost sparkling blue colour. 4th of July themed seemed like a stretch, now that she had a closer look; it had more of a space theme or a starry night sky, than anything else.

She flipped over the book, only to find it was a photo album. The papers where starting to become yellow with age and the photos curling at the corners, as if ready to fall off at any moment. It looked so old and well loved, yet Jazz had never recalled seeing such an album around the house before.

The photos all included pictures of herself when she was far younger, her mom and dad, and some of Jazz’s friends from elementary school. Sometimes it was just one of them, sometimes all of them, and sometimes even none of them.

But with each picture there was one consistent theme: some part of the picture was complete static. Like someone had taken a TV without signal and used that to colour in nonsensical shapes and silhouettes in each and every picture.

It was strange. Odd, even. Jazz wasn’t one to vandalize anything as important as a photo album, even as a child. Her parents were always quite adamant that she’d been a rather mature child since she was small. And she doubted her mom or dad would’ve done that.

Maybe one of her friends from the photos? Jazz could’ve invited them over one time and they could’ve scribbled all over the photos when she wasn’t looking. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She squinted at the pages. No, that didn’t seem quite right. The static colouring stopped right at the edge of each polaroid, not a single bit of it leaking into the white border edges of them. She doubted elementary schoolers would care so much about that, or be that precise.

Page after page she found different pictures, with her and her parents at different ages and different clothes, with new friends and old. And yet that same static colouring persisted. In fact, it seemed to be growing over time, getting consistently bigger and bigger, at times looking like the outline of a person just a handful of inches shorter than herself. She started to get irritated as the static got closer to her height, but by the time she got to the end of the album—with whiter pages and more firmly glued pictures—it never overtook her. She felt satisfied about that fact, for some reason.

Back to the original problem, she still didn’t know what the purpose was of this odd destruction of her family’s photo album. She didn’t even know where this album had come from, the pictures in it unfamiliar and foreign.

She squinted at the last picture in the album, using her nail to scratch at the static colour. Not that she was expecting anything from it—

The static started to flake off.

“What is this, crayon?” she mumbled. Though it felt simultaneously thicker and thinner than crayon wax. Smoother, yet rougher. It was easy to pick at it, but hard to peel off anything larger than a toothpick, the colours coming off in long thin stripes as they did.

She scratched and scratched and scratched at it. Jazz had just about had enough when no more pieces came off, but then—

The entire thing peeled off like an old sticker.

Staring back at her was a boy with messy black hair, annoyed blue eyes, and a contrasting grin with Jazz’s own arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“An… old friend, maybe? But this picture was taken recently and—” She paused to pick at another photo higher up the page. It revealed another picture of the same boy, mouth open like he was talking animatedly about something while staring into a small telescope. Another picture, a few pages earlier, showed the whole family in their hazmat suits, and the boy himself standing with them in his own white and black suit.

“I’ve never had any siblings,” she whispered to herself. It didn’t feel right, almost like someone else coaxed the words through her mouth.

She stared around at the empty room. Thought of how it really should be blue, since that’s the colour it’s always been. The house was originally beige, but this room was always always blue. A specific shade of lighter blue, with glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and burn marks on the carpet. A scuffed up desk plastered with enough free Nasa stickers you could hand them out at a convention. Not to mention a bed that had never been made since it was bought.

She thought of that room. And she thought of this one, the real one all around her. The one full of life and the one that had never seen it. There was only so much she could do to try and remember it. Imagine it? Think of it, and yet it stuck out so clearly in her mind.

She could hear the high pitched whiny voice calling her a nag. Could smell the dirty laundry ‘hidden’ under the desk. Could feel the ratty old cotton Star Wars blanket between her fingers. But none of it was here.

Something ached fiercely in her chest.

She gripped her shirt tight over her heart, tears welling up in her eyes.

She’d forgotten him. She looked out for him—cared for him—for so so long, but she’d forgotten him. Like some trashy teen magazine article.

And—and she needed to find him. He was always being reckless out with his friends hunting—hunting ghosts of all things (oh god, ghosts exist and she forgot and he had been fighting them without her help—).

She went for the door, yanking it open and trying not to hyperventilate.

Jazz needed to find him, she needed to help him, she needed to—

Jazz blinked. She stared at the open door to her own room with a frown. “Why did I leave my room?”

She jumped as she heard something swing shut behind her. When she turned she noticed the door to the empty room, shut and covered with cobwebs. She shuddered and inched away from it.

“Jazz, sweetie, would you mind closing the window?” Mom called.

The window?

A gust of air blew against her side, sending her hair every which way. Right, the window.

She pulled the hallway window shut, an air of finality settling in her bones.

—

“Nocturn!” The shout echoed down the long, stretching corridor along with the bang of the door slamming open. Within moments, a blur of black and white sped into the room.

“You know you could’ve just knocked,” Nocturn said. “I would’ve considered letting you in my second favourite dreamer if you were polite about it.”

“What’d you do with—” Danny paused. “Wait. Second?”

Nocturn swept open his cloak, revealing a figure just a tad taller than Danny himself floating close to his chest, her head bowed.

A swirling mess of dark purple, blue, and black speckled with shining white stars were painted on her skin. Her hair was a dark shade of orange and flowed freely around her, as if underwater.

“Well, my dear? Shall we entertain our guest?”

She lifted her head and Danny gasped. Her face was free of paint, but blank, bereft of all features save a waterfall of neverending black tears down her cheeks. But even without a face, Danny could recognize her. Could never not recognize the very reason he came here in the first place.

That—that was—

“Yes, Lord Nocturn,” Jazz said.

#danny phantom #jazz fenton #void jazz #phic phight #phic phight 2024 #nemo the writing ho

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