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buckyarchives · 1 year

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Domestic Life Of a Living With a Runaway Assassin. [Intro.]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader

Summary: you hate many things in life. you hate soulmates. you hate the avengers. you hate guns. you hate loud snorers and complicated relationships.

Bucky Barnes is associated with all of those things, yet you can't find yourself hating him

W.c: 2.1K

Series playlist linked here

Author note: this was actually one of my first long form fics I wrote in many years, its carrys a nostalgic feeling and means a lot to me. i wrote it like last October and thought abt kinda rewriting some stuff and posting it here! I thought some of you guys woudk enjoy this story. this is only a short darbble that teases the story, next chapter shows how they met and everything after that. It takes place right after CA:TWS and it’s a soulmate AU!

Masterlist

Soulmates.

The legend goes that when the universe was created and whatever higher power you believed in created humans to have two sets of legs, two sets of arms, and two heads. Now because the world is cruel and no one can have nice things, whoever is in charge up there split us up into two beings but forever being connected by our souls. Spending the rest of our life waiting and searching for our other halves. Never being our true whole selves without them. How poetically tragic.

It turned into a weird way to make money nowadays, you felt like no one really cared about the reality of soulmates now. It was made into shitty romance movies, or stupid scientific searches for your one and only soulmate that was definitely an internet scam. People literally faking soul marks towards celebrities for their one chance with them that their delusional minds make up.

All just a desperate attempt to feel whole and loved but your one and true person. Always and forever destined to be.

What a touching story. Too bad you think it's all bullshit

No genuinely, you were supposed to believe your life's purpose was to find this one person in the entire universe that matched you, and without them, you what? you were going to be miserable for the rest of your life? The universe is a scam. You had given up on the whole mad search for your other half years ago, you didn't understand why you couldn't go out and find your own partner without having to match up those stupid words on your shoulder.

“I'm sorry, you probably don't feel very safe with me.”

Those stupid words. You hated the idea of soulmates but you couldn't stop yourself from the hours of wondering just what the hell that was supposed to mean. You had no interest in seeking out your soulmate but you could wonder what type of person they may be. Were they really a dangerous person? Would you genuinely not feel safe with the said person when you first meet? Would you even meet them?

Questions had swirled through your head since the day you got it. Those questions had died down a little, you were getting older and most of your peers had already met their soulmates. You noticed soulmates were not just romantic, they came in friendships, some didn't work out, some came between children and parents, and some came through your fire escape at night, covered in blood and knocking down your favorite plants.

With a loud crash, your feet carried you through your new york apartment to your living room. You saw the outline of him crouched down on the floor. “I'm so sorry, I know that was your favorite plant.”

Okay, spoiler. You had found your soulmate. You weren't excited about it as the rest of the world expected, but it happened. You weren't some hypocrite that would suddenly abandoned all beliefs and fell head over heels for your soulmate once you met like one of those stupid romance movies you mention earlier, you were not some cliche. Especially not with a poor excuse of a runaway-brainwashed-assassin soulmate, at least you would try convincing yourself that.

“My god Bucky, how many times do I have to tell you to just go through the door.” you pinch the bridge of your nose as the tired old man scrambles to clean up the dirt and scattered pot beneath him. “I mean, you practically live here now.”

“I'm not using the door, someone could see me.”

You think Like that's better than having someone see you climb through the fire escape, asshole. You scoff and shake your head and begin dragging yourself to the kitchen. You had a slight quirk at the end of your lips, an amused smile, you hoped Bucky didn’t see in the dark. Maybe he did, you didn’t really have enough time to ask him the deets on the effects of the serum.

You swing open the cabinet door and grab a trash bag and first aid kit. God only knows how bent out of shape bucky is tonight. Making your way back into your living room, Buckys still muttering under his breath about your stupid plant and “god dammit it's fucking freezing out there.”

throwing the trash back at him, he looks up at you. His eyes are beautiful. His hair is sopping wet and you were hoping to any god above that he wasn't bleeding out on your floor. You were not losing your security deposit for your reckless runaway assassin soulmate. God, that's a mouthful, you need to give him a new nickname.

“So, what's the damage?”

“s’ nothing, I'm just cold. It started raining hard.” he looks like a wet shaking dog. Your heart aches.

You look him up and down. Noticing the water dripping from all his clothing. “I see that.”

You sigh and take a few steps toward him. Bucky eyes follow your moments precisely. He has a bit of a staring problem. You snag the hair tie off your wrist and swiftly tie his brunette wet mop of a head into a little man bun. Cute. you shake your head.

“Stay, I'll be right back.”

Bucky watches you in awe as your body ascends back into the darkness of the room and around a corner. He's uncomfortable and his socks are wet. The leather vest is wet and he feels like he's trapped in his own skin, and Bucky feels too heavy.

Slowly, he begins to unstrap all weapons on his body and toss them to the side so you don't have to see them. You didn't like guns. He had a designated place where he hides them because god-forbid Bucky messes up your apartment aesthetic with his dozen of unsettling and quite scary weapons. Your words, not his.

Unzipping the leather top and peeling the fabric off himself was less than a nice feeling, it made him cringe and sent a quick shiver down his spine. Bucky tossed it to the side, he’ll deal with that tomorrow. His hands feel the thin black shirt that's left, it's wet too. Fucking hell. He doesn’t remember the New York weather being this bad in September, he also barely remembers anything so his memory isn’t too reliable. Bucky slowly peels the fabric over his head, he hopes he doesn't mess up the bun you did, he never did it right.

Bucky hears your feet pad against your floor. He pushes back a smile. You're holding a towel and some clothes. He watches you as you crouch down next to him on the floor, he notices that your eyes are squinted and your bed head is apparent. A twinge of guilt hits him now knowing he had woken you up. Bucky whispers, “I woke you up.”

You sigh, again. “I was having a bad dream anyways.”

“About?”

You inhale, scoffing to yourself. “I was being chased by Jimmy Fallon with a jar of pickles – because you know, I hate pickles – and he was yelling at me about the importance of eating vegetables, but he sounded just like my mom.”

Bucky didn’t remember who Jimmy Fallon was, “you must think you’re so amusing, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Bucky curls his toes and is unfortunately reminded of his very wet socks. He leans forward to untie his hefty boots. Your eyes trail along his naked back, his muscles flex and suddenly you are just a little more awake. You watch his left arm in all its glory, taking note of the ragged and scarred tissues where metal meets skin. Scratch marks are littered around the edges, and you feel sad for him, imagining how those got there. The moonlight highlights his metal arm, making it shine and look quite beautiful. You could never tell Bucky that.

“It's been a week.” you finally breathe out. Bucky freezes in place as his fingers wrap around his laces. He feels guilty again. “And you didn't leave a note this time either. I thought...”

Trailing off, you stop yourself before you say something you were going to regret. Your mind wanders, you felt so incredibly stupid right now. Truth is, you didn't agree with the whole soulmate ordeal but it seemed like ever since your unconventional first meeting with Bucky, he has stuck to you like glue. He just kept coming back and then leaving again.

It took you many of his overnight stays and weirdly domestic mornings making scrambled eggs together and then turning into a worry machine after he leaves. You realized had grown to care for him deeply. Bucky always came back, but you were scared for the day we might not.

Bucky is– literally, a lost puppy. He had been on the run and actively avoiding the few stray agents that knew he was still alive when he met you.

Bucky remembered back when he was a kid, dreaming about the day he would meet his soulmate. He and Steve would stay up all night talking about their soul marks, or just words (as they used to call it), and what they thought their soulmates would be like. Bucky was obsessed and simply put, a hopeless romantic.

Then Steve met his soulmate, Peggy. And then he technically died and Hydra happened, Bucky thought his soulmate would have been dead because he was out of his time now. After being brainwashed and having been broken and put back together by Hydra, Bucky could still never shake the feeling of you still being out there, it was like some instinctive feeling in his bones, he had hope and it was one of the only things keeping him going.

And he was right.

Bucky had many doubts when he first met you, given his situation. But you were not scared. And that was enough for him at the time.

But now he just feels guilty for giving you the burden of being his soulmate. He was trying, really.

“I'm sorry, doll.” his voice didn't sound like his own, he shrugged the rest of his boot off and followed with his socks. Finally. “I should have left a note. I'm safe, you're safe, and I'm here now.”

Bucky heard you sniffled and you turned your head with an embarrassment look and glossy eyes. Like you were ashamed for caring.

“sweetheart...” he scooted closer, hoping you wouldn't mind his damp skin on yours. Bucky reached for you, wrapping his flesh hand around yours and giving you a small squeeze. Your head turned to him, a small smile hidden on your face by the darkness of the room. He saw it. Bucky might even think you're an angel. “I won't leave without saying something next time, I'm sorry.”

“Do I even want to know what you were doing out there?”

He hated lying to you but his life was complicated. “Just trying to fix some things I did.”

You nod. “Good.”

The silence between the two of you isn't uncomfortable, the past few months have been silent– at least with bucky. He is your soulmate. He is also the winter soldier, and the winter soldier is always moving and hiding. Bucky Barnes is always moving, always. He had been that way even way back in the Howling Commandos.

You were his safe haven. Your relationship was on and off but your bond was strong, it was wordless and tentative and strung together by patching wounds at midnight and soft, domestic glances over coffee. Your house– just you were his place where he could just stop, pretend as if nothing mattered and sit on the couch and watch reality television that you loved. Bucky found it questionable but you said “it will help you get with the times.” Bucky just watched it because he knew it made you happy.

Bucky Barnes had been moving all week, fast. He had almost died, twice. He was never going to let you know that though. Bucky was due for some Hell's Kitchen or dance moms. He was also not going to tell you that.

The moonlight was fading and you could hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside, barely silenced by the bustling city life of people leaving for work. You are still sitting next to Bucky, and you nudge him with your elbow. His attention is now drawn to you. You bite your bottom lip, a horrible habit you had, bucky hated it. Bucky brings his thumb up to your face and pulls your lip away from your teeth. He wants to kiss you.

“Go take a shower, you stink.” That works too. He smiles and you laugh. Yeah, Bucky thinks he can stop for just a little longer this time.

Feedback and comments make the work go round, comment to be added to the tag list!

Tag list : @ivywasmaroon @ozwriterchick @slytherinambitious @wintermischief

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky fic #sebastian stan #bucky barns imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #sebastian stan x reader

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pessimisticpigeonsworld · 4 months

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Watching this video essay about Yellowjackets and somehow HOTD came up and I saw the tweet and I roll my eyes so hard

Uh. Yeah. Bc she uses the faith (basically Catholicism or Christianity) to act as this pious queen when she is paying maids to keep their mouths shut about her own son raping them.

And she didn't just hang up some four pointed stars, if I remember, she REPLACED, the targs sygils with the faith of the seven stuff.

Alicent stans just love to forget her fanaticism until they can use it to make her look more pathetic. I have to say, accusing Rhaenyra of religious fanaticism is a new to me lmao. I've only ever seen people call her a godless whore, but I'm not on X, so maybe I've been spared.

Targaryen antis don't seem to grasp just how much of the Valyrian culture the Targaryens have given up for the sake of Westeros. Calling the Valyrian wedding ceremony an "arcane marriage ritual" is not only insulting to the Valyrian culture but also completely hypocritical.

Valyrian culture was steeped in magic, they themselves have magic in their blood. Is it any surprise their marriage customs would be the same? That's like expecting the Starks' ceremonies to happen separate from the Old Gods. The Targaryens have given up their gods, most of their magic, their language, and their marriage traditions. They never forced other people to follow their traditions, they never forbade following the Faith and the Old Gods, they fucking conformed as much as possible aside from the incest, which was the only way they know to preserve the last bit of Valyria's magic.

Alicent wouldn't be seen as a religious extremist if she didn't actively repress and hate other religions. She badmouths the Valyrian traditions, not just the incest, but also their love of dragons and their art. She removes all the Valyrian and Targaryen heraldry and artifacts and replaces them with the the symbols of a religion known for being intolerant and repressive.

As I said earlier, the Valyrian culture is dying out and the Targaryens have given up so much of their mother land. Removing the last pieces of someone's culture just because you follow a different religion is fucked up. Alicent isn't even the actual ruler or a Targaryen, it's not her place to choose to abandon their Valyrian heritage while her husband is too sick to interfere.

But the real issue of Alicent's actions are her motivation. She doesn't actually care about morality and her own religion, she cares about supporting Aegon and undermining Rhaenyra. That's why she criticizes Valyrian incest then turns around and forces Helaena to marry Aegon. That's why she calls Jace and Luke savages when her own son bullies his siblings constantly and later rapes women. That's why she harps on about honor and decency while actively protecting and covering up the actions of a rapist, a murderer, and a kinslayer. That's why she removes the Valyrian heraldry while Rhaenyra is gone and replaces them with the symbols of the Faith.

She's literally the definition of the hypocritical woman for Trump. She harps on and on about morals then turns around and does reprehensible things for her own gain. She complains constantly about a culture different from hers and actively tries to remove its influence. She hates people who don't conform to her ideas.

Alicent isn't a good person, period. She's a hypocrite, constantly upholds the patriarchy, sacrifices others for the sake of her interests, and is xenophobic. The efforts to take her flaws and project them on other characters, usually Rhaenyra, by her stans is ridiculous and really shows how little they actually like her character. They like her aesthetic and the idea of a perfect suffering victim.

#anti alicent hightower #anti alicent stans #anti team green #team black #house of the dragon #anti team green stans #anti rhaenyra antis #rhaenyra targaryen

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layla4567 · 6 months

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Spoilers Loki s2 e5

I have a lot to say!!! (this will be long)

Ok first of all this scene made me laugh a lot because of how randomly they presented the original timeline of Mobius, he looks like a child playing (oh and him being a single dad it makes a lot of sense to me)

expectation:

reality:

Oh my f*cking god If I liked O.B before, now I love him with all my soul! He is not only a nerdy genius but a science fiction geek whose passion is to be a writer!!! And why didn't they let him keep his books in the bookstore?! I would gladly buy them!! Just look at his face, he needs a hug :(

AND WHY THE FUCK DID THEY NOT HELP HIM WHEN THE BOOKS DROPPED ON HIM?! IT COSTS NOTHING TO BE KIND DAMN IT

Ok, I think we've all realized that O.B's workshop is the same as the basement where he works at the TVA, maybe he was the one who created the TVA after all? btw how beautiful the photography is in this entire series.

I admit it, I laughed my ass off at this scene, I apologize (make it a meme pls lol) Honestly, this whole scene and the interactions that O.B had with Loki made me laugh (when Loki tries to control his timeslipping or when O.B electrocutes him as scientific proof)

This scene where Loki adjusts his hair and his jacket to see Mobius 👀 (he only does it with him) I wonder what the Sylki fans have to say

Remember how I said I hated Hunter X5/Brad Wolfe? Well I was wrong, there is one person I hate more, her. Girl, they're literally telling you that everything is going to shit and you don't give a damn? On top of that, when they tell you that you are selfish, do you take it naturally as if it were something to be proud of? Why are you like this? The worst thing of all is that when Loki says he wants his friends back she calls him selfish, not sweetheart, that's not being selfish. Being selfish is turning a blind eye to a problem that you mainly caused. Loki's fear of being alone is understandable and justified since he felt that way all his life and has done all the things he did for that same reason, which It's being really selfish, it's the opposite, wanting to be alone and forget your friends and not care that their timelines are falling apart. Sylvie you are a hypocrite (sorry I had to vent)

AAAAAAAAAA I'M GOING TO CRY GOD. I said it and I will always say it Loki needs a hug 😭 This scene is super moving because it shows us Loki's true purpose, he just wants his friends back, who are also people he hasn't known for a long time but who were attentive to him (btw Tom Hiddleston always shines in all his scenes )

This scene...holy shit this scene was scary. I think it's even more terrifying than Thanos' snap.

It's overwhelming how everything around her disappears in seconds leaving her in literal emptiness. There is absolutely nothing left, only threads floating in an enveloping blackness. When I saw that scene I felt empty and desolate.

OH SHIT HERE WE GO AGAIN...

NOOOOOOO MOBIUS NOT YOU (He just wanted to save his children 😭)

Loki's face when he sees his friend disappear D: (I'm having deja vu from the first season when Mobius was pruned)

Sylvie too?! Why does she disappear and Loki doesn't? (By the way, you just arrived Sylvie when you realize that everything is disappearing? really?)

Ok this is a nightmare for Loki, he was left alone and couldn't do anything to avoid all that, I think it's the most hopeless scene of the episode :( (And the way he tries to grab those threads…I'm broken)

OK HEAR ME OUT BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS SCENE. I think the background voices help a lot with the feeling of anguish and helplessness that Loki feels, for not being able to save what he loved most, his friends. And when you feel overwhelmed by all those voices and at the end one stands out and it's Sylvie's voice saying something like what makes a Loki a Loki is the fact that we are destined to lose? That's when he screams in despair and goes back in time just a few seconds earlier and manages to control his timeslipping. And I must say that at first when I saw this scene it reminded me a lot of the scene from the movie "Ella Enchanted" when she is forced to kill the prince and she is surrounded by mirrors and begins to remember moments of her life such as when her mother told him to trust her or something like that (I don't remember the scene much, I saw it years ago lol) the point is that she refuses with all her heart to obey that order and in a moment of desperation she screams just like Loki and she says that she will no longer be obedient and drops the dagger, freeing herself from the spell. I don't know if you understand my point because I'm bad at explaining, but I think that the love he feels for his friends was what made him go back in time, that strong desire to want to make things right and that determination to say "this isn't true." It can end like this, I decide what is going to happen" (free will) I think that is what makes him finally able to control the situation, love is the most powerful force. Something similar happens in the movie "Tomorrowland" I think.

This scene is really powerful, the background music, the phrases that Loki says, the context of the scene, it is cinema. I think you don't need an action scene or scenes for a scene to be epic and move you. This is epic with so little, it is simple but effective. And the music is really the icing on the cake, it is so hopeful and gives strength to the moment when Loki returns to the TVA being able to fulfill his mission, I cried. Loki has evolved into a hero who saves the day and everyone.

And that ending??! Oh no the cliffhanger again..

Phew I know this was very long but I really needed this kind of catharsis, never has a Loki episode left me with so many emotions and beautiful things like this one. I laughed, I got excited, I cried and I was scared. I am very happy with the evolution of Loki and each episode that passes wins my heart more, I can't wait to see the next chapter. Everything is perfect in this series, the music, the settings, the actors, etc. It shows that it is made with the heart

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lavender-romancer · 1 year

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Poison

Part Three Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff Reader Cho Chang x Hufflepuff Reader (unrequited) CW: angst

You and Draco had been together for around a year but as you both approached 7th year you could no longer see him the same way as before

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

"What was it?" You asked.

"What was what?" Hermione asked with a confused face.

"The spell? I'd never heard of it before." You tried to sit up in your infirmary bed but your body ached.

"I don't know but Harry's being punished for it." She placed a hand on your leg.

"He's been expelled, that's good." You let out a sigh of relief.

"Well…" Hermione looked down.

"You're joking. He could have killed me!" You exclaimed and Hermione looked up with sad eyes.

"I don't understand either. Even if it was to be used on Draco it's barbaric." She stood up and before walking away said, "I'm sorry, I just feel so awful about it all."

A few minutes later Draco came in and sat by your bed, he looked like he'd been crying and you put a hand on him to try and comfort him but it just made him well up.

"That bastard he could've-"

"I know. But he didn't." You said softly.

"I've been berating Snape for not expelling him but it doesn't seem to have made a difference. What kind of curse was that anyway?" Draco asked and you shrugged.

"Hermione was here earlier and she had no idea, I've never heard of it." You lay your head back on your pillows, "At least all the wounds are fixed. I just ache like shit."

"I don't think I could deal with it if you weren't here," he looked down at the floor and you sat up with a start.

"Pull yourself together, Draco! Every time I need you to be emotional you're cold and distant making yourself the center of attention. But this has happened to me, I don't need your fucking tears I need your stability if you want to help me." You ran your hands through your hair and turned over.

"I…." He trailed off and you heard him walk away with heavy footed steps.

You fell asleep after that and it wasn't until you were discharged the following day from the infirmary that you received an unwelcome guest for the second time that day.

"Oh, not you." You groaned as Potter approached your bed. "I thought the worst thing you could do was curse me but no, you're here now."

"How are you feeling?" He asked timidly, standing by his bed awkwardly not knowing if he could sit in the chair set to it.

"Just perfect," you shot a fake smile in his direction and he nodded.

"I deserve that. I don't even- I'm so sorry and I don't know how to make up for it all." He fidgeted with his hands.

"You can tell me how you knew that curse for a start," you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"It was in a book. An old textbook I found in Slughorn's cupboard." He didn't sound like he was lying but it sounded like bullshit.

"Right. That kind of thing was just lying around then? I don't have time for all of this, Harry." You stood up.

"It wasn't meant for you! I would never want to hurt you." He held your arm gently. "Please. Tell me you know that?"

"After the last few weeks I'm honestly not sure, Potter. Whatever Draco did or has done, why do I deserve the brunt of your verbal abuse? We weren't together but on that day you still treated me like that. Why?" You asked, looking at him with angry eyes.

"Because I hated you for it. For being with him when you knew what he was like to others." He paused. "I see how hypocritical that is now."

"Draco didn't try to kill someone, or at least to my knowledge he never has. I've never claimed he was a good person but, fuck, Potter. That curse could have killed him if it hit him." You sat back down on the bed and put your head in your hands.

"And I'm so incredibly sorry for putting you through all that mental tennis of whether I was going to treat you well or not each day. I was taking things out on you when it's not your fault." He crouched down and took hold of your hands.

"We were close. It crushed me when you started treating me like this especially when Ron and Hermione don't even go near that." Your eyes began to well up.

"We can be close again. If you would like that?" He gave you a small smile.

"I'll need some time to forgive you for all of this." You said softly.

"I'll do all your homework for a month?" He offered with a laugh and you shook your head, smiling.

"So I can get lower grades? No thanks, Potter." You took a deep breath.

"If there is anything, please tell me. What I did to you was fucking awful." Harry gripped your hands and you shook your head.

"I'll mentally reach forgiveness, I always do. I just need time to process all of it myself." Smiling at him weakly.

"Okay, do you need any help getting to your dorm?" He asked standing up.

"I'm aching Harry, not infirm." You raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed.

"I'll leave you to it then," he squeezed your hands once more before walking out.

Over the next few days you stayed out of Draco's usual haunts, not willing to discuss how upset the whole thing had made him and just focus on your work. Maybe it was selfish but you had more going on in your life than the problems of Draco Malfoy. Trying to help him had resulted in you almost dying, and after everything with the dark mark you couldn't see a way that a relationship with him would end well for you. He made bad choices and didn't seem to properly understand the severity of it all. You didn't believe Harry would get that angry over nothing, so what had he done? You were pulled out of your thoughts when you fell back on your arse after bumping into someone.

"Watch where you're-" Snape started to say but realised it was you. "Oh, how is your recovery?"

"A lot worse now I know you're not expelling him." You scowled at him in a new lease of confidence.

"Excuse me?" Snape asked in a deeply offended voice.

"I knew you made special affordations for Draco all the time but for Harry? After you've despised him for so long, he nearly kills me and gets detention?" You paused. "I didn't realise your backbone was conditional," you spat out before walking past him. Snape didn't argue because you were right, but he couldn't expel Harry. It would reveal so much about himself that he wasn't prepared to admit.

Draco had been watching you from a far recently, making sure you were recovering alright but not bothering you at the same time. He couldn't bear to be away from you and whilst he knew it was wrong, he needed to see you. The only class you two had together was potions and he had gradually been getting closer to you with his position in the classroom until he got there early and was standing at your desk to be your partner.

"Hello, Draco." You said in a monotone voice where he couldn't detect any emotion at all.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Healing up nicely, thank you for asking." You gave him a half smile and he swore under his breath.

"Y/n. Come on, don't freeze me out." He begged in a quiet voice.

"After all the months you froze me out I think you deserve it." You started setting up the experimentation equipment for the amortentia potion you were making today. "Did you sit next to me for today's experiment?"

"It wasn't deliberate but I thought after a few weeks you might want to talk," he suggested but you knew Draco better than that, knowing what your potion smelled like and knowing it would smell like him gave him some kind of mental power over you.

"Yeah, that's believable," you said to yourself before crossing your arms and going silent till the experiment began.

"What does yours smell like then, Malfoy?" Goyle asked with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Fuck off, Goyle," Draco hissed and you rolled your eyes.

"Well what does it smell like?" You whispered and he sighed.

"You know what it smells like," he looked into your eyes with such a desperately sad expression.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" You changed the subject and he nodded, "Well, it's…I'm getting cologne and just a hint of…terrible decision making and maybe a smidge of daddy's boy." You raised your eyebrow at him and he smiled.

"Alright, arsehole." He shook his head and you elbowed him jokingly.

"We're okay aren't we, Draco?" You paused. "At least as much as we can be in the situation."

"I hope so, I never know when to stop or when to shut up. Not really anyways unless I'm in one of my depressive 'freeze out everyone' moods." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Let's go to the room. After this lesson." You smiled slightly and Draco nodded.

As the two of you left together, it wasn't surprising to see people stare at the two of you, regardless of the fact you'd been dating for a while you still made an extremely odd pair. Whilst you disagreed with pre-set personality groups like houses, both of your houses probably interacted the least. Especially when younger kids who didn't know you saw someone in yellow accent robes with a Malfoy, it would seemingly make them double take in the corridor.

"I don't think I ever really get used to people staring," you said quietly to Draco and he smiled.

"I suppose I've always had it, whether it's because of me or my father." He paused, pondering whether to touch your hand with his as you stood still and the staircases moved. "But I suppose I was always worried that was something you would dislike me for."

"It was definitely the worst when we first started dating but only because I wasn't used to it." You looked up at him and got lost in looking at all of his features that all together ruined your innocence when you met him. They were impossible to not get lost in.

"Come on," Draco said softly as you walked up the staircase and down the quiet corridor before standing before where the door usually was and just thinking about the reasons you wanted it along with Draco.

"Sometimes it feels like you're fading, that I'm losing bits of you and it makes me so angry. An anger that goes down to my stomach because I want to absolutely despise you, but I don't. I know I could despise what you become and that's what scares me," you pulled your knees up towards you to comfort you as you both sat on the sofa in the room of requirement.

"The way I feel about myself is like there's things written on my body and my brain but I don't know who has done it. I'm not in control and I don't think I can ever get control back." Draco trailed off, hanging his head in some type of shame.

"I think I could shout as loud as I want and you still wouldn't want to hear me." You looked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "All this… shit, I know you felt pressured but you've chosen your side now."

"Don't you think I know that?" He said sadly and you frowned.

"Feeling sorry for yourself will not help anything. You have to make the hard decisions from now," you paused and took his hands in yours. "Draco. Everything you do from now is your decision, you have to pick a side."

"I don't need a lecture from you that I've given myself a hundred times!" He exclaimed, ripping his hands from you and standing up. Draco walked a few steps away, one hand on his hip the other rubbing his temples.

"Well what do you expect me to say!" You stood up and walked in front of him. "You cannot expect me to go back to just bring your loving girlfriend when I know that you're on the side of the fucking enemy!" Suddenly Draco was holding his arm, hissing at the pain.

"I have to go," he said quietly, looking at you through glassy eyes before walking away.

"Where?" You followed him but he didn't turn around so you pulled him to face you by his shoulder. "Where are you going!"

"To him!" Draco yelled. "Do you really want the truth or admit to yourself that I'm fucking poisonous!"

"What do you mean?" You touched the arm he was holding and he shrunk away from you.

"I have to do this," he wiped his eyes.

"Have to do what?" You asked in a softer tone.

"Whatever is asked of me," he looked down and you moved his hand from his arm, pushed up his sleeve and gasped. His dark mark was jet black and moving like the snake was alive under his skin, it was red around the edges as if it was burning him.

"Oh, Draco." Your eyes began to water as you considered the incredible burden placed on his shoulders with this tattoo that a few years ago, you wouldn't have even given a second thought too.

"I'm so sorry," Draco broke down and collapsed into your arms, sobbing and clutching you with such desperation.

"It's okay, Draco. It's okay." You were lying but no good could come from berating him now.

"It's not okay! I'm evil, I'm a fucking monster and the best thing you can do is get away from me." He tried to pull away from you but you held on tight.

"You won't get rid of me that easily, Malfoy. Whatever we are isn't important right now because I want to help you." You pulled him to stand up straight and looked into his eyes before kissing him on the cheek.

"I am so in love with you, and it feels like it burns deeper than this mark ever could." He put his hands on both of your arms and stood close to you with his head bowed.

"I love you too," you whispered and Draco's eyes opened.

"Even like this?" He asked and you nodded.

"I can't control my emotions, even though I'm angry I can't help but love you." Placing your hand on top of one of his suddenly Draco leaned forward and embraced you in a passionate kiss.

His hands moved up to hold your face and brush the tears from your eyes before he moved one of his hands down to your back and pulled you even closer. The kiss itself was hungry with desire, filled with pain and you both felt if it ever stopped you might never find one another again.

#draco malfoy angst #draco imagine #draco fic #draco malfoy story #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco angst #draco x y/n #draco imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #draco fluff #draco malfoy

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dannystheone · 7 months

Note

Hope it's okay to send this when your requests are closed, I just read your tickling isn't goth fic and my God that was so cute 🥺 is there any chance we could get a fic of Michael messing around with Pete only for Pete to remember Michael admitted he's ticklish so he retaliates?

Yes absolutely! So um I know what I said but

lol I had an idea I'M THE WORST

I've actually had this idea before but I wanted to wait until I could articulate it properly if that makes sense

I hope you enjoy :0

WARNINGS: cursing! mentions of satan and other imagery. also a lot of band references so if it's confusing I'm sorry lol

I'm More Goth Than YOU! (Lee Micheal/ Ler Pete)

This takes place during the 'Basic Cable' episode (Season 23 Episode 9). After finding out that Micheal has already talked to the new girl Sophie, Pete finds himself wanting to discuss a few things with his friend...

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

"-So we just sat around and listened to Bauhaus when System of a Down came on after that. I was like, what the fuck am I listening to, you know. And they skipped the song like when it came on and it switched to another goth band but that's when I knew they were just another poser." Micheal rambled Pete's ear off while they were watching a scary movie together.

Pete was at Micheal's house as it was the start of the weekend and October, so naturally they had to kick it off right. However, watching scary movies was a year-round activity, so tonight was a bit basic by their standards. The movie of choice was Hereditary, but they've seen it so many times that they could talk and watch at the same time and not miss any beats.

Pete was zoning out if he were being honest. He had his mind set on a girl he had talked to earlier that day. Sophie Gray. She was really pretty and she seemed really cool, not unlike anyone else that went to their school. Even though she was new and Pete didn't really know her yet, he could tell that she was different. Pete laid his cheek on his fist while he thoughtlessly said the first thing that came to mind.

"I don't mind System of a Down if I'm in the right mood," Pete said honestly. Micheal turned to Pete with a look of disgust. Pete was laying on his side on the couch with his left leg bent at the knee and his right leg laid over Micheal's thigh. Micheal pushed Pete's leg off of him and crossed his arms with a sneer on his face.

"God, that's how I know you're a fucking poser," Micheal growled. That got Pete's attention. Pete looked up from the television and set his jaw in anger.

"What did you say?" Pete asked, testing Micheal. There was no way his friend would utter something like that again to his face.

"I'm just saying that no real child of darkness would be listening to something so mainstream. I've heard cheerleaders listen to Chop Suey before." Micheal said with venom in his tone.

"Oh yeah? Then how do you know a single song from the band anyway? You're a hypocrite, Micheal. Op- foreshadowing." Pete pointed to the TV where a hidden Easter egg was shown in the movie.

"Nice catch." Micheal relaxed after that. Micheal allowed Pete to put his leg back up to rest on his thigh so it wasn't hanging off the couch. It seemed like Micheal didn't want to be caught being a poser or a conformist in any way, shape, or form. Pete wondered why that was.

"So uh... that new girl at school. Sophie Gray? Talk to her yet?" Pete tested the waters with Micheal. Sophie had revealed that Micheal had already spoken to her before Pete had, and Gods knows what Micheal was saying about the people at the school. To save his own skin, Pete threw Micheal under the bus and called him a total poser. Because let's face it, no one was more goth than Pete was.

Micheal perked up at her name. "Yeah, she's pretty cool. I offered to show her around campus sometime and she started talking about Skinny Puppy. Can you believe it? She's not a conformist dickhole like every other new kid in South Park." Micheal carded his fingers through his curly hair while Pete stared back at the TV.

"Well, too bad she already accepted my invitation to show her around the school. She even said she wanted to talk later. Guess she's only into real goths." Pete was poking the bear on that one. Micheal turned to Pete with a look of thinly veiled shock.

"What? You talked to her? No way." He asked. Pete shrugged nonchalantly with a small smirk on his face.

"Yeah. She said she's not into posers. Her words." Micheal furrowed his brows at Pete's words.

"Well, I'm not a poser!" Micheal said defensively. Pete's smile only grew as he looked over his shoulder to meet Micheal's eyes.

"Then why would she say something like that? She said she doesn't like guys who try too hard." Pete's smile could be heard in his voice. Michael gave Pete an incredulous look and grabbed onto Pete's calve resting on his thigh.

"Did she actually say that Pete?" Micheal asked. Pete threw up his shoulders and turned his attention back to the TV.

"Are... Are you lying? Pete. Answer me." Pete kept a smug little grin on his face when he felt a hand squeezing the in-between spot of his knee and his thigh. Pete let out a shocked cry as he shook off the hand.

"Ah-hah! What are you doing creeper?!" Pete yelled, fighting to take his leg back. Micheal held onto his leg in a tight grip as he defended himself.

"I want you to answer me about Sophie Gray, dork! I'm not doing this 'cause I like it! Are you lying about what you said?" Micheal pressed.

Now one thing about Pete: He was a TERRIBLE liar. He could make stuff up on the spot about a story that was already established, but coming up with stuff out of thin air under pressure? He began to stutter and jerk his leg in Micheal's grip.

"I- I don't know! It's just what she said! Why do you-" Pete and Micheal both looked at the TV at the same time. The main character had passed by another Easter egg.

"Foreshadowing." They said at the same time.

They turned back to look at each other one more time before Micheal squished the inner part of Pete's knee, creeping into his inner thigh. Pete gave an inward squeak as he began giggling and kicking his leg.

"M-Mihihicheal! Stohohop! You're a weheheirdo!" Pete struggled and snickered while squirming all over Micheal's couch. Micheal hadn't heard Pete's ticklish laugh, or any laugh for that matter, since the tickling ritual at Henrietta's place a few months back. They don't really talk about that day, and for good reason.

"What, are you gonna call me a creep next? You're so mainstream it hurts, Pete. I don't know why Sophie would choose you to hang out with. If she should be hanging out with any goth at the school it should definitely be me." Micheal admitted. Pete managed an eye-roll in the midst of his tickle attack which Micheal definitely caught.

"Sounds like you're je-hehealous! Get off mehehe!" Pete snickered with Micheal grabbing both his lower thighs and squishing into the muscle. Through sheer luck (and some determination) Pete managed to sit up in a different position on the couch and grabbed Micheal by his jacket. Their small tussle took them to the floor of the living room in a bundle of pillows and blankets.

Pete thrust a hand out while blind in the flurry of objects surrounding them and just started to squish his hand over and over. Pete didn't really know why he shot his arm out to retaliate, but something in the back of his mind told him it would work.

His intuition seemed to be right as he felt the random body part he had grabbed start to shake with laughter. Pete forced himself out of the small blanket fort that had fallen on top of them and kept squeezing the body part he had in his hand.

He had Micheal's ribs in his grip, which he held onto for dear life. Satan, Micheal was a squirmer. It was like he was being electrocuted.

"Call me mainstream again, Micheal. Do it. I dare y-" Pete egged on Micheal, but he had never seen this expression on his face before. Micheal's eyes were screwed shut as he laughed out from the small amount of squeezes Pete was administering. Had Pete landed on his death spot by accident?

"Pehehete! Gehehe- *hick!* Gehehehet ohohoff- *hick!* ahahasshole! *hick!*" The sound of Micheal's hiccupy laughter filled the living room. Pete was dumbfounded. He had no idea how to react rather than to keep squeezing. Pete shoved both his hands on either side of Micheal's ribcage and scribbled his fingers into Micheal's bony frame. Micheal burst out into a fresh peal of laughter as he tried tucking his knees into his chest for protection.

"I'm gonna put you in your grave for calling me a poser, Micheal. I should record this and show it to Sophie to prove to her that you're just a ticklish conformist. I bet she'd get a real laugh out of that one. What do you think?" Pete was sure talking big words for someone who was ticklish himself. Micheal could do nothing as his head lay on the carpeted floor and laughed out.

Micheal tried fighting Pete's hands back, but that just raised his arm up and out of the way. Pete took the opportunity and shoved his hand into Micheal's armpit and simply moved his fingers in the space before Micheal snorted and squirmed underneath his friend.

"Gohohohod! Yohohohou- *hick!* yohohohou suhuhuhuhuck! *hick!* Screhehehew ohohohohoff! *hick!*" Despite his words, Pete had it hard taking Micheal seriously, seeing as he had a huge grin on his face and giggled out all of his threatening words. It didn't deter Pete of course, he's heard this all before.

"What did you say? You said I suck? You calling me a vamp kid now, Micheal?" Pete tossed his hair out of his eyes just as Micheal had managed to flip himself onto his belly and started clawing himself away from the situation. Pete launched into action as he grabbed his friend's right arm and barred it into his back.

"L-Let go of me! Sophie Gray knows I'm more goth than you, conformist! This is pointless!" Micheal shouted. Pete let out a disgusted groan as he jammed his fingers into Micheal's side, just underneath his lowest rib. If Pete thought he found Micheal's death spot before, he was dead wrong. Micheal immediately started fighting him and trying to hold back his immense giggles.

"Stahahahap! *hick!* Yohohou're fuhuhucking lahahame- *hick!* Pehehehete!" Micheal's face buried into the carpet of the living room while his shoulders jumped with laughter. Pete was a little shocked for words at how well he was taking control of the situation.

"Oh yeah, I'm lame, Micheal? I'm not the one laughing like a preppy straight-A cheerleader right now. If only Sophie were here, she could see how much of a princess you actually are." Pete had no idea where these fighting words were coming from, especially directed at someone who's always been more commonly revered among the goths AND older than him. Micheal struggled at that last remark but crumbled when he felt Pete finding the divet in his side. That was the spot right there.

"Fuhuhuhuck ohohohohoff! Yohohou- *hick!* Yohohohou're thehehe wohohohohorst! *hick!* Micheal tried lying on the side that was being tickled and swung with his free arm, but Pete was quick to grab the arm and stuff it by the other one and kept both his wrists behind his back in a vice grip. Now Pete alternated between tickling one side and switching to the other randomly.

That was cause for disaster. The randomness of the tickles in Micheal's worst spot kept him laughing as his brain was surprised at every turn where Pete would strike next. Not to mention with his increased laughter, his hiccups increased as well.

Pete could feel Micheal's legs bending at the knee and shooting out behind him over and over again as he sat on his hips. He felt all of his struggling underneath him, but his laugh was what intrigued him most. It was hiccupy yes but it was deeper than his speaking voice, and it had the same rasp to it. It would be more of a romantic laugh if it wasn't infested by those goofy hiccups.

"How much more of this do you wanna take, Micheal? You know what you have to say to get out of this. You have to say you're sorry for calling me a poser, you have to say I'm more goth than you, and you have to say Sophie Gray would prefer me over you showing her around the school cause you're a goddamn dorky ticklish conformist." Pete laid all this out while Micheal immediately started shaking his head.

"Nohohoho wahahahay!! I cahahahan't! *hick!* Ihihihihit's- *hick!* Ihihihihit's toohohohoo muhuhuhuch! *hick!*" Micheal's voice was getting weaker, maybe since he'd gotten tickled a lot longer than Pete was tickled just a moment ago. Pete decided to give Micheal a little boost. Pete let go of Micheal's hands behind his back just for Pete to grab both of his sides and scratch his blunt nails through the thin material of his blouse. Micheal let out a surprised noise as he fell back onto the carpet with his eyes screwed shut in laughter.

"Then I guess we'll stay here a while, Micheal. Say hi to Cthulu for me when you cross into the Ether." Pete flipped his hair out of his eyes while he watched Micheal manage a quick bird-flipping motion with his right hand. Pete groaned audibly as he shoved his fingers into Micheal's armpit, which made Micheal laugh hard.

"Just say you like it-" Pete was about to say before his phone chirped a notification sound. Pete looked back at his phone and decided to give Michael a break. Pete unlatched himself from Micheal's hips as he walked on his knees to read the notification. With Micheal's freedom, Micheal rolled onto his back and gulped in greedy amounts of air with a hand over his beating heart.

"You're a fucking dickhole, Pete... I swear to-" Micheal started, but Pete interrupted him.

"Oh shit. Sophie just invited me to her house. She said she wants to watch something." Pete looked over to Micheal, who was sitting up with a pained expression on his face. It was then that Micheal's phone chirped as well. Micheal pulled his phone out of his pocket and read out the message he received.

"I got an invitation too," Micheal said simply.

"What should we do?" Pete asked. Micheal started typing and sent back a message.

"I asked her what we'll watch," Micheal replied. Pete nodded and flipped his hair out of his eyes before sending the same question to Sophie.

A moment passed before both of their phones chirped at the same time.

"Mandalorian?" They both said out loud in an equally disgusted tone.

"She has a Disney Plus account?" Pete asked.

"Fucking conformist," Micheal said, displeased.

"Nope." Pete and Micheal said in unison before shutting down her invitation.

"Welp, so much for that. What should we do now?" It was then that the main character screamed from the television, grabbing both Micheal and Pete's attention.

Pete and Micheal decided to make up and spend the rest of the night watching cheesy horror movies. None of what they said they actually meant, and they really felt that way. Besides, no way a conformist could actually change the way two REAL goths thought about each other.

Pete did have some interesting stories to tell the rest of the group while Micheal wasn't around, however...

#south park #south park tickles #sp goth kids #sp goth kids tickles #lee micheal #ler pete #lee pete #ler micheal #okay tell me why i made pete a little scary LOL #i wouldn't expect this from him #but thats what makes it good #also lemme hear some noise #for LEE MICHEAL #HICCUPY MICHEAL #YEAAAAH BUDDY

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simpfordemetri · 2 years

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can you make a oneshot of emmett falling in love and protecting the reader who is very clumsy and no one understands why he loves her, (not in a rude way, they just don’t understand why he’s so infatuated with her.)

My little human (Emmett Cullen X reader)

I'm really sorry this took so long,I just finished exams so I didn't have much free time<3

You were aware of it,everytime you went to the Cullen's house you received a bunch of bad looks,specially from her,Rosalie.

It wasn't a secret that she didn't like you,she was very clear about it and won't hesitate to even tell you.

She didn't like Bella for the same reason, she was human,a clumsy human,always in danger because of that fact,even Edward left her alone for months.

But now,you were the only human there,the only who has a heart beat in the Cullen's house.And the only one that show respect for you were Alice,Esme and Carlisle.They were the only ones who never puts in doubt the love of Emmett for you.

Emmett didn't even notice how insecure you were with them,how anxious you felt whenever Rosalie or Edward tried to embarrase you,making stupid comments about how they dont need another problem with the Volturi for another human in the coven .

However you couldn't stand Edward,he was the first who didn't want Bella to be a vampire,the one who fell in love with an human,it was very hypocrite of him,but you never dared to say anything to him.

Not until now,Emmett were out hunting with the others,and it seems that Rosalie arrived earlier that anyone,avoiding you at all cost.And that was when you finally decided to face it, ask her about it.

But her reaction were quite agressive,screaming at you about how you were just giving them problems with your humanity,how she thinks everything were over when Bella turned,and now other human seems to be a problem again for them.

"What is wrong here?What's going on between you two"Emmett asked confused arriving at the kitchen,not really knowing what you two were talking about,that's when you exploted "I thought vampires weren't blind,I can't believe you didn't notice,how all they can't stand another human here,all the dirty looks I receive from them,how they think I'm another clumsy problem,how bad I feel whenever I come to your house,for God shakes Emmett" You screamed,not able to stand it anymore ,tears finally falling,taking your things and leaving immediately,not giving him the chance to answer.

It have been days since you had that discussion at the Cullen's house,you haven't pick up his calls,just trying to relax your mind from everything for a few days.

You understand the Cullen's,they have been in so much problems for letting an human enter on their life's,Edward even tried to break the rules,but you just wanted Emmett to have the same opportunity to love you as Edward had with Bella.

You shake your head,leaving your thoughts when you heard a knock on your door.

"I missed you,I was really worried about you but I tried to give you some time alone"Emmett said hugging you,smelling your scent for a few moments.You took him to your room,both sitting on the bed,close to each other.

"I talked with them,I'm sorry I didn't noticed earlier,it's not that they don't like you,they are just scared things go wrong like they happened with Bella,they don't want you in danger and they don't want me to suffer from loosing you, everything is fixed,whenever you are ready I will take you to talk with them.However I don't care what anyone thinks,I love you,you are my mate,we have am eternity together and anyone can make me doubt my love for you,even when you get turned ,you will always be my little human,the one I fell in love with"

And that's was when you knew,how in love you were with him,how anything matters when you and him are together,anyone can change the fact you two are mean to be together.

#twilight #the twilight saga #emmett cullen one shot #emmett cullen headcanons #emmett cullen imagine #emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #the cullens #rosalie cullen #twilight saga headcanon

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broken-clover · 7 months

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4- Healing

Though I still feel like these are still difficult characters to write, I thought it would be fun to do something for Sly Cooper today! I also keep wondering if I'm adhering to my own prompts decently enough but I'm just trying my best!

The series spends most of its time on the actual jobs, which makes sense given it's a video game and you want to play the actual interesting parts, but it's nice to think about the downtime in between, I like imagining the guys just chilling out sometimes

Given the nature of this prompt there's some mention of broken bones and injuries, but nothing especially graphic.

They took turns doing the laundry. Hypothetically.

Because really, the truth was that Murray tried his best, but he was never very good at folding things neatly, and Sly would always pretend that he couldn’t tell whose clothing belonged to whom, despite their obviously different sizes. Bentley just preferred doing the job himself anyway, because then he could take as long as he wanted to smooth out creases and snip off loose strings.

Sly wouldn't be much use with his broken wrist, anyway. He was remarkably upbeat about the whole thing, even if everyone else was absolutely baffled at how he’d managed to injure himself doing the same thing he’d done regularly for years. Nobody teased him too badly for it- it would be hypocritical, seeing as how Murray had gotten lost three times in the same corridor earlier that day, and an errant jet boost on his chair had nearly gotten Bentley’s head stuck in the ceiling. Jobs weren’t always as smooth as they were on the blueprints. It wasn’t the end of the world, anyway, as despite all the hiccups and missteps, they’d still slipped back out of the high-rise carrying numerous personal treasures of the city’s wealthiest business tycoons.

The pile of gemstones and still-framed art pieces looked stunningly out of place in what passed for the safehouse’s living room. It wasn’t an especially upscale place, being an apartment perched atop a dry cleaner’s, but the whole point of a safehouse was to be unassuming and easy to miss. It was still far from the shabbiest place they’d ever hunkered down in, plenty big for the three of them.

“D’ya think he got lost?” Murray looked up from staring at his twiddling thumbs. “Should I have picked it up instead?”

Bentley didn’t slow in rolling the hippo’s newly-cleaned scarf into a neat pile to go with the rest. “It’s Sly, Murray, he’s got a good sense of direction. I’m sure he just got held up at the checkout line.”

“Hmm…” One set of fingers smoothed down a band-aid covering where a fragment of door had gotten lodged in the back of his hand while he’d knocked it down. He always tried to deal with those quickly, Bentley had told him all about the kinds of infections you could get from letting wounds get dirty. The adrenaline masked it while they were working, but once the work was over and it started to wear off, it was easy to notice all the spots that hurt. Even disregarding any cuts or wounds, all his muscles ached from how much they had been used in such a short time.

“Try not to worry too much, okay?” Noting his friend’s continued fretting, Bentley put down the shirt he was folding and gave the hippo a pat on the arm.

The string of bells hung above the door jingled as it swung open. “Honey, I’m home!”

“See? I said it was fine.” The turtle nodded to himself.

Sly padded into the room, demeanor bright despite the matted fur and sling around his neck. “Got dinner.” He announced, lifting up a stuffed plastic bag with his good hand. “Cashier tossed in a couple extra egg rolls ‘cause she felt bad about my arm.”

“Ohhh yeah, ‘The Murray’ has been waiting all day for the deliciousness that is spare ribs. Toss it my way, buddy!”

“Don’t- don’t toss it, I just finished with the laundry!” Bentley protested.

Some heists were capped off with week-long vacations and money thrown every which way as they partied until dawn, and others with quiet tuck-ins at the safehouse, pajamas, and a lot of unwinding.

Sly glanced between the turtle and his work. “No trouble with that, huh? Guess you aren’t concussed after all. Still figured all that hacking would’ve sprained your brain.” He paused. "Seriously, nothing bothering you after hitting your head like that?"

“I wear a helmet for a reason. I still advise you to do likewise.”

“Mmm, yeah, gonna get back to you on that one.” He noticed Bentley’s empty wheelchair parked by the unoccupied corner of the couch. Without any hesitation, he climbed up over the sofa’s overstuffed back and flopped down in between Murray and the armrest.

Bentley stared at him. “...You could have just asked to move it.”

“Felt rude to.”

“And you’re going to exacerbate your injuries in being a smart alek.” He nudged his glasses out of their place to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I swear, sometimes-”

“Hey, c’mon, guys, don’t fight. Aren’t you tired?”

“Alright, Murray, alright.” Sly raised his hand in defeat. He offered Bentley a carton of wonton soup. “Truce?”

“Truce. You know I’m just trying to make sure your injuries heal properly, right?”

“Yeah, mom, you’re always keeping an eye on us.”

The three sank into their chit-chatting and Chinese takeout. Murray commandeered the remote control, flipping through public access channels until they found some old 50’s sci-fi that was corny enough for everyone to get enjoyment out of. He and Sly laughed through mouthfuls of food, while Bentley rolled his eyes and scolded them for their lack of table manners, even as Murray rightfully pointed out that there was no table to speak of. Maybe it was the tiredness, the adrenaline wearing off, or just being in an agreeable mood, but Bentley for some reason found that absolutely hilarious, proceeding to nearly choke on his own dinner from laughing too hard.

“Good job, guys,” Sly said. “Nice work all around. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Bentley fell asleep first, just aware enough while he was nodding off to put his soup on the coffee table where it wouldn’t spill, only to pass out right atop the clean laundry he'd so meticulously sorted. While he seemed unfazed, Sly abruptly joined him halfway through the movie’s third act, with an empty takeout container still nestled in his lap and his tail wrapped around his legs. Murray stayed where he was, sandwiched between the two. It wasn’t a generous fit, but he didn’t try to get up, or even to move. He didn’t want to accidentally jostle any limbs or bump into any sore spots, let alone accidentally wake anyone up. They both needed the rest. And he was fine where he was. He always felt safer when his friends were close.

#Frog Writes #comfortober #sly cooper

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crmsnmth · 1 month

Text

September Sky Chapter One, Part 4

"Want to just meet here then?" I asked.

"Yeah. Sure. I get down with my last class around four, so quarter after?" She replied with that same perfect smile.

"Sounds great. I'll see you later then," I said. She gave me a small wave and headed back into the writhing mass of the crowd. I lost her almost instantly. As she walked away, she did turn back and look at me, so I think that's a good thing? I don't know. I was way out practice.

I had enough time to walk to my place in Riverwest, shower, and change clothes quick. Yeah, I did miss the bus, and at this point it would be faster for me to walk than wait for the next bus. I just didn't enjoy the walk without my headphones, which I had forgotten when I left the apartment earlier that morning.

I headed out of the cafeteria as fast as I could go. With the adrenaline from asking someone out for the first time in years, I could move pretty fast. I made it out the door, and out into the late spring air.

I practically ran and crossed the bridge over the Milwaukee River. I had to stop for a few moments to catch my breath, and to cease the stabbing pain in my side. I was really out of shape, and the smoking probably didn't really help. I checked my phone for the time and found there was enough that I could maybe just walk like a normal person.

The bridge is basically what separates the East Side and Riverwest. It was strange, but for some reason, you could actually feel the change. In the air and in the noise. As the hippies that roamed the streets of Riverwest would sat, "it's in the energy, man."

Riverwest was basically a safe haven for misfits and outcasts. A neighborhood for artists and their muses. Everybody here is an outcast, and this tiny little splat in Milwaukee was the holy ground we prayed at. Everybody (who was a decent person) was welcome. No matter if you're a hardcore punk, or a knitted hat wearing hipster, or maybe even a witch who cares more about the style than the substance. They were all accepted with open arms.

I lived over on Booth street, with two room mates. One of them, Tom. had put an ad on Craigslist and I got lucky. I had the first months rent, and I'd be taking over someone's lease. I had no problem with that, and a week later I was moved in, trying again to start my life over.

Tom was an alright. He at least acknowledged my existence. We had even had a few conversations. I guess the best description of him that i can think of would be a jock hipster. Technically, he should be kicking his own ass. Somehow, though, he made it seem natural.

Dennis, on the hand, did not like me. Not one bit. This didn't bother me. I'm no hypocrite. I wasn't his biggest fan. He was a deep-seated conservative. Maybe even more than that even. I know he was deep into ROTC stuff. And he definitely looked the part, with the crew cut and the ever present smug of a soon to be military person. When he was at the apartment, his room was constant virtual gunfire war video games. And hey, I like to game just as much as anyone else, but I'd much rather be doing something.

The house was empty when I got there. I'm assuming they both had class or were to whatever it was that they did for jobs. For being room mates, it's kind of strange of just how little I knew of them. And they knew barely anything about me, other than what they saw at our place. And that wasn't much at all, considering most of my time home was spent locked away in my tiny room.

It looked smaller than it was, mainly because my walls were covered in posters for horror movies and punk bands. I had a small closet in one corner of the room that held most of my t-shirts. And I had a lot of them. Of course, they were all black, and usually with a horror movie's poster on them, or a punk bands logo. A TV stood on a stand with an Xbox that I used mainly has a DVD player. Across the room was my mattress, just a twin that sat on the floor. I tried keeping a sheet on it, but with the amount of movement I have in my sleep from nightmares, I ripped it up every night. So I stopped trying. Who did I have to show anyway? A small dresser sat against one wall, with a turntable and my stack of vinyl on top of it. Right next to it was a bookshelf filled with horror DVDs and a few books based on some form of anarchist ideology. I wasn't all that political, but I classified myself as an anarchist. It just kind of suited me, with the punk thing I had going on since I turned 13 and found a Descendents album at a Goodwill. My laptop lay on my mattress, plugged in to the wall behind the dresser. The wall above my bed was covered in red Christmas lights.

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strangestcase · 1 year

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I will make a final statement on the dramaTM and then shut up about it, you know, not make it worse, because I know myself.

I guess it would be hypocritical of me to not apologize.

I will step up and admit, I've been petty, I've been annoying as hell, I've been stubborn, and I have overdone myself more than once. I have not been gracious at many times and I completely understand people are upset about it. It was never my intention to hurt anybody, and I say this completely honestly. But holy shit, looking back, do I fucking jump to conclusions.

Also, for context, it hasn't helped that I'm not exactly in a good place mentally lately due to personal issues.

As a... I wouldn't say content creator, but as a writer and artist, I also struggle with criticism at times and I would be lying if I said that having critics, no matter how civil, is not a walk in the park. That we can all agree on. I imagine it's not fun, as a pretty anxious person myself, to have a few people call you out on some bullshit -regardless of if they're right or not- because, trust me, I have been there, and I should have been more mature, being aware of that. However, I will make the point that the "harassment campaign" you are talking about is just three or four mostly cloutless people complaining about immature behavior on part of a popular artist; on your end, we have the big names of the fandom overreacting at the plight, no matter how ridiculous, of a blogger that has a fraction of a fraction of your fame.

It would be dumb to pretend I have not stepped on people's toes or pushed their buttons the same way it would be dumb to pretend the other side hasn't done the same in differnet ways. So let me reiterate: I am genuinely sorry if I've made any of the people involved feel bad or insulted, though I would be very happy if they made the move to likewise apologize for their behavior, because it's not like I'm super happy about the way they've treated me. Once again, if you stay in your lane I'll also stay in mine and vice versa. Like. Sure. It wasn't good of me to vague other fans, I'm self aware enough to see that now, and I wish I had been able to see it earlier, but it isn't good of them to screenshot my blog and spread rumors about me, you know?

Let me be clear here: I don't want anybody to harrass anybody, go after anybody, or start any more shit. God knows I've already had enough and I wouldn't want to drag more people into this. Any sort of disagreement or beef there is in the fandom should stay between, well, the people affected, like that's OUR problem to sort out? Not yours? So please and for the love of all that's holy don't stoke the flames from this point on because right now we're all just angry and sad and scared and. Um. That doesn't feel great.

Cool?

Cool.

Anyway. I still stand by my opinions, and anybody who knows me knows I'll die on whatever hill, but I have no issue with admitting that an angry Doc is a very petulant and immature creature, and now I'm seeing the consequences. So. All I can say right now is that I sympathize with the fandom at large, understand why they're angry at me, and just... I suppose sit down and be more reasonable even in the face of people who aren't exactly being it. Turn the other cheek and all that.

All this aside, I'm glad we are... kinda cooling down, and having enough emotional maturity to not involve more folks. I'd hate if this got any bigger, and I'm sure that's something we all believe.

TL;DR: I've gone a bit too far and admit I've also overreacted in regards of the current fandom drama, and feel sorry for it. But also please it wouldn't kill you to do the same? I promise I will do my own thing from now on, just be a bit more chill next time someone complains about you. If I can admit I've been too belligerent so can anybody honestly.

#doc talks #man i feel better now #also dont expect me to say much more about this! this time for reals lol #im really tired like tired as balls and i need to be beaten into a coma at this point

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unskilledpoint · 6 months

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does prevskilled have symbolism? he's a cool character, but i'm wondering if he was just there or actually meant something.

ummm yreah a liddol it was probably my like worst attempt at subtle symbolism ever thuogh so fuck it lets just do complete analysis of prevskilled. hes pretty fun to talk about actually. also somewhat personal to me? tangentially speaking.

anyways. prevskilled! quick lore recap he was an asshole capitalist who achieved immortality, before shedding the "universal veil," seeing that the world hasn't started yet and killing himself. fun!

so symbolism. prevskilled is a very meta character. his introduction was meta, he concept was meta, and thus his analysis is meta.

prevskilled's entire arc is told from something that unskilled is looking back on. their character arc has happened. they are no longer capable of changing because their character arc is in past tense. they are doomed to remain stagnant. hence the complete lowercase and almost utter lack of any punctuation, and emphasis being in bold rather than italics or caps or even with the 8x quirk. his inability to change went through to his speech.

okay, so let's look at the contents of said arc. prevskilled basically, got too meta. he learned too much, lovecraft style. the "universal veil" he mentioned in one of the journal entries was literal. he saw, somehow, that the EPPRBCU didn't actually start yet. this was pretty much worldending for him. especially when you read through some of it and realize how much of it involves being known and recognized. but since the EPPRBCU wasn't a thing yet, prevskilled was pretty much doomed to irrelevancy. and he was well aware of this.

here's the part more relevant to unskilled. before prevskilled killed himself out of sheer hatred of irrelevancy, he cloned himself in the form of a second file, in the form of unskilled. he edited his own file for certain traits, killed himself, and released the second file in a last ditch attempt for relevancy. so now, we have unskilled. and there are some pretty major differences/similarities between the two!

prevskilled had a god complex, unskilled has. all of that. prevskilled was also really ambitious, unskilled genuinely wants to be left to their own devices. but also they're very similar! a fondness for the number 878, a tendency to dryly and judgmentally comment on others, etc.

this leads to the question. we know prevskilled did change unskilled's code. but how much? did all of that actually affect unskilled's current personality? or was it all just luck? would prevskilled also have turned out like unskilled had they been coded earlier? would unskilled have turned up like prevskilled? i don't have any particular reason or desire to answer any of these, but if you do some analysis of him yourself i'm sure you could come up with something.

you could also draw some parallels of unskilled/prevskilled's computer code to real life genetic code. should my parents have made me, with their history of mental illness? again, i've no interest in answering this. just a little tidbit, i guess.

last topic! i just want to call to attention prevskilled's relationship with unskilled. he's pretty much always critiquing unskilled, usually telling them to kill themselves or calling them weak for trying to kill themselves. unskilled, obviously, points out how prevskilled is a hypocrite, as he attempted suicide a long time ago. prevskilled usually responds with "it was just a moment of weakness" and leaves it.

this in turn raises a couple interesting questions. could prevskilled be projecting his own insecurity about suicide onto unskilled? does unskilled remind him of themselves? it's pretty likely, in all honesty. again, you could draw some parallels of unskilled and prevskilled and irl parents and their insecurities, especially combined with the pun of genetic/computer code.

anyway! that's pretty much it. i dunno. this isn't super long so hope you aren't like disappointed or anything. i'm sure i could've forgotten something but i'm pretty sure i've hit all the major points. so. yeah! stay sillay and stay safe its a wild world out there :3c

#everyone praise me and my ability to symbolize even if its not true. at all.#character analysis #prevskilled

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papirouge · 1 year

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i find it very interesting of how i see more anti-disney sentiments from christian creators but it's only because dumb american politics and fear of "wokeism" that rotted their brains into goo.

the only ones i've seen be criticized by christian creators are the more recent ones like turning red, moana, princess and the frog, and encanto. disney is a beyond sus company for sure, but white people really act like magic and witchcraft wasn't a thing since disney's beginnings and it isn't an element in their white features and they hold Walt Disney to a blasphemously high standard and worship him. they're still fine showing their children cinderella, frozen, and peter pan because they're "classics". really wish these people would be bold enough and say with their chest they somehow fear people with different backgrounds more than satan. i don't say this to say all of those films are harmless because it is disney at the end of the day. while i don't want to assume all of the people behind their movie have bad intentions, the company clearly does given their history. but how are these new works any more atrocious than the earlier works?

i won't say that i'm any morally superior because i still consider myself a new/"lukewarm" (and trying to fix this) christian and i'm still trying to tear myself away from the sinful worldly entertainment i spent years consuming without considering God. i hate to say it is hard since i've made my closest friend through similar interests, but seeing the hypocrisy makes me question to God if i'm the one who's in the wrong.

i find it very interesting of how i see more anti-disney sentiments from christian creators but it's only because dumb american politics and fear of "wokeism" that rotted their brains into goo.

Yeah, they are such raging hypocrites lmaolll Like, Disney glorifying witchcraft for entire generations & brainwashing them to elevate its magic world (=demonic) as a cultural staple was a-OK, but a BLACK ARIEL??? INADMISSIBLE !!!

I've said it and I'll say it again, every Christian straight up angry at Disney for *this* while never having peeped a word about its whole witchcraft glorification is a clown and a hypocrite. It's been decades since Christians warned off against culturally accepted witchcraft (not only Disney, but also Dungeons & Dragon, LOTR, Harry Potter, etc.) and guess what? They've been clowned, and called "religious" and "pharisees" by those Christian brainwashed by those shitty movies/books.

If they had a brain they'd understand that this is a sign for them to finally ditch Disney and dip out of this worldly entertainment crap.....but look, instead, they are begging for the old Disney to come back.... They have no discernment.

the only ones i've seen be criticized by christian creators are the more recent ones like turning red, moana, princess and the frog, and encanto.

Pause for a moment and see the common denominator between all these movies.......👀White people really ain't sleek with their bias ; of course movies with a non White protagonist were fated to be a problem one way or another.

And don't get me started with the "Black people deserve original Black characters movie adaptation, not Black washed ones!!" argument, when Black Panthers got White people in their feelings, calling it "pandering" (yeah bc a movie/TV show with only White characters is normal and you're woke™ for daring to criticize it, but saying a movie about an AFRICAN KINDGOM with mostly Black characters convey a "BLM/anti White agenda" totally makes sense right?)

disney is a beyond sus company for sure, but white people really act like magic and witchcraft wasn't a thing since disney's beginnings and it isn't an element in their white features and they hold Walt Disney to a blasphemously high standard and worship him.

Disney isn't just "sus". Walt Disney was a 33rd degre freemason and a pedophile. Remember that when the same people calling to cancel a brand just bc they hired a transperson as their model, elevate Disney movies as some sort of cultural staple..... Their stupidity is astounding.

I mean, look at the Lord of the Ring / Narnia stans.... IMPOSSIBLE to slap some sense to them. They are soooooo arrogant, thinking that because those books elevate European culture with a sprinkle of Christian symbolism suddenly erase their obvious witchy elements (Narnia children literally follow the demon Pan in that closet 🤦🏾‍♀️). But they would NEVER start to claim as Christian (non White) folklore, even when they some use Christian symbol. For example ome traditional witch in Africa actually use CHRISTIAN CROSS to cast spell. Does that make them Christian too? 🙃 Of course not, because that's only a prerogative of White European scrotes from centuries ago 🙃

they're still fine showing their children cinderella, frozen, and peter pan because they're "classics". really wish these people would be bold enough and say with their chest they somehow fear people with different backgrounds more than satan.

The "I want Disney to go back to classics" take is retarded because DISNEY HAS NEVER BEEN ABOUT AUTHENTICITY. "DISNEY CLASSICS" WERE AS MUCH WHITEWASHED THAN TODAY'S MOVIES IT'S JUST THAT THE WHITE DIDN'T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T CHANGE THE CHARACTER SKIN COLOR. SO I WISH PEOPLE SEETHE ABOUT DISNEY COULD BE HONEST THEY'RE JUST UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SEEING CHARACTERS THAT DON'T LOOK LIKE THEM ANYMORE, INSTEAD OF PRETENDING CARING ABOUT AUTHENTICITY. PEOPLE LOOKING FOR AUTHENTICITY DON'T WATCH DISNEY MOVIES, YOU FOOL. THEY ACTUALLY READ THE ORIGINAL NOVELS FROM THEIR ORIGINAL AUTHORS.

And none of this is new. I remember that when Hercules got release, Greek representatives were mad at Disney that totally rewrote the legend (in the original tale, Hercules dies because of a poisoned fleece). In the Little Mermaid, the prince ends up marrying a foreign princess and she kills herself out of desperation (actually the witch spell fated her to die if she failed making the prince fall in love with her). I've even seen idiots arguing about the Hunchback of Notre Dame skin color/ethnicity (bc Disney made her exotic looking) when in the original novel , the plot twist of the story is that Esmeralda is not an Egyptian gypsy, but a stolen children from a WOMAN FROM REIMS (a city of France) so Esmeralda is ethnically White 🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️ .....tbh I could go on about how Disney popular stories are just fake and white washed.

Conclusion ? Disney is nothing "classical". Disney "Classics" aren't even orignal stories

And yet you're making more sense than 99% of Christians on this hellsite. I truly believe the Bible when it says the first will be the last, and the last will be first. New Christians sometimes have more self awareness than older ones. They're not burning that hard for Christ anymore and lose focus on sin. Which explains why so many of them are literally whiteknighting dominions of satan.

#answered #Christian

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postalenha · 3 years

Text

11. special

not really knowing what to wear, you decided to put on a beige sundress that goes below your knee, wishing that jay wouldn't bring you in a wall climbing type of place.

checking your reflection in the mirror, you fix a strand of hair that's sticking out and iron the dress with your hand, "perfect."

you smiled before hearing one to two honks of car. you decided to leave your apartment. outside, you see jay in his car, waving at you. you went straight to him saying, “good afternoon.”

he unbuckled his seatbelt and went out of his car, opening the car door to greet you, “good afternoon, lovely.” you smile before going inside.

his car smells like fresh flowers, which helps you calm down and not worry throughout the ride. once you've had enough courage to speak, you ask him “may i ask where we’re headed to?”

"i'm taking you to my favorite restaurant." he answered, "don't worry, i won't disappoint you."

you softly chuckle, "i'm looking forward to it."

the drive was smooth and quiet. you think if this was even a good idea because you remember telling yourself to never meet him again, let alone involve him in your life.

but you decided to give him a chance. it's not like you would lose anything. you would just hang out, that's all.

he stopped his car in front of a fancy building. he got out of his car and opened the door for you. he then offered his arm where you can cling your hand into. giving his car keys to the valet guy and you went straight inside.

immediately after a staff member had a glance of jay, she knew right away where to lead us. the two of you are now sitting at a table for two before the waitress hands you your menu.

you look over at jay, trying to get a recommendation from him while he's preoccupied, searching at his menu.

the waitress laughs a little before she pokes jay and points at you, jay widens his eyes. "oh no worries, i'll order for us." he smiled, "but you can order what you want too."

shaking your head no you tell him, "it's okay. you can order for us." he took that as a green light, so he ordered everything in the menu that he wanted you to have a taste of.

you weren't really listening to what he's saying, all you feel right now is admiration. you admired how well he can handle himself. he seems to know what he's doing, and looks like he's an expert with these types of situations.

waiting for the food to arrive, "i hope i lived upto your expectations." jay scratches the back of his nape, "i didn't tell you where we're going to keep the thrill."

you laughed at what he just said, "you made me anxious the whole ride just for you to experience some thrill?" you questioned him, he just smiled at you.

"the cold sweats were worth it. this place is magnificent." you commented, looking around and analyzing the place.

"it's elegant, very. yet cozy." you added, the structural design of the place was finely furnished. there are aerial plants hanging but the sight doesn't really make you suffocate, instead, they help make the surrounding more earthy.

"i know, that's why it's my favorite." he happily said, "and i'm glad you're liking it so far."

not long after, your food arrived. you couldn't tell if jay was very hungry or he just genuinely wanted you to try the food. seeing the number of plates on your table right now, it's enough to feed a whole six person family.

overwhelmed, you don't know where to start so you just stared at the food as they stare right back at you. jay sees your reaction and actually thinks it was cute.

while you're busy getting lost in your own thoughts, he started cutting the steak for you. it just went unnoticed until he switched your plate to his.

"why did you steal mine?" you asked him with full confusion painted on your face, he smirks. pointing at the plate in front of you, "they are the same thing. the only difference is; i already cut that for you."

after cutting his steak, he handed you a small cup with some kind of sauce inside. "try that with the flat bread like this." he showed you how to do it, and you just followed him, "then eat."

you both eat in usion before you hum in surprise, jay smiles for the nth time seeing you nod your head in approval. "that was actually good!" you said.

"it is. it makes a good appetizer." he told you, you both moved on and continued eating the main course. “i’m glad you agreed to see me.” he said.

you look at him, “i’m also glad you brought me to such a good place.” you said a while before taking a bite into your steak. tasting the savor of the meat as you chew it.

silence was the sound of the afternoon as you both ate in peace. he sometimes offers to help you with things like pouring your glass of wine, wiping the sauce from your lips but other than that, you both really didn’t interact that much.

jay had been thinking of what he should say, but he couldn't seem to find the right words or construct a good sentence to initiate a conversation. he only smiles at you whenever your eyes meet his.

but when dessert came, you grew tired of the silence that had been hurting your ears. so you decided to ask him, “how are your butterflies?” it’s funny to ask how his butterflies are.

because if he would ask you the same question, you would answer that yours are in your stomach as you speak. “they’re doing good.” he said, “i’m actually planning if i should free them or not.”

“why?” you ask him, jay looked at you. seeing your face, he knew that you actually cared because it is painted right all over your face. “i just think that i’m holding them back from the freedom that they deserve.”

“but what if their freedom is you?” you blurt out. “i mean- what if they feel like they have all the freedom in the world as long as you’re there by their side?” you panic while you blabber out the words without processing them in your head first.

“sorry, i wasn’t making sense.” you’re talking about butterflies for god’s sake. why would his butterflies even feel that way about him- well they can, but not certain.

jay thinks that it was fascinating that you said that. “no, you are making sense.” he reassured. he never once thought of how his butterflies would feel if he let go of them, he was busy thinking about what they feel in his perspective and never theirs.

instantly after you’re finished eating, you go out and wait for the valet driver to get the car. “we can sit there while we wait.” he pointed at the bench, you shake your head. “it’s fine, we can wait here.” you said, “unless you want to sit.”

he shook his head too and was also about to say something, “jongseong!” a woman shouts as she approaches you. you’re confused, there is no jongseong here. unless your name wasn’t y/n after all.

the woman stops in front of jay, “i didn’t expect to see you here!” she greets him with a hug. he’s jongseong?

you just stood there, quiet. even distanced yourself to give them some space. of course, just the right distance to hear what they’re talking about. “i most certainly didn't expect to see you either.” he said, the woman laughed and slaps his shoulder.

“we’re going to a pub, do you want to come?” she invited him. that is when jay- or jongseong- or whoever the hell he says he is; looks your way so you avoid his eyes, but on your peripheral vision you can see him walk to you.

feeling an arm on you shoulder, you look at his hand while you hear him say, “sorry. i’m with someone.” he said. you expected the girl to go with what he said but she just smiles. “come on! there would be a lot of people.”

she inserts herself in the middle of you two and clings her arm into yours, “she can find more friends there too!” you look away because you don’t know how to respond to her invitation, you barely even know her.

but that was hypocritical for you to say, because it wasn’t that much of a problem when you and jay spent the night at the pub. you were about to agree when something drawn on her arm caught your attention.

it’s the butterfly jay had drew on your arm when you two met at the bar, the same one. the only difference is that yours is already faded while hers is new and visible. you slowly remove her hand that was clinging on your arm.

“sorry, i’m really tired. i’ll be heading home, but jay can come if he wants to.” you told them. the girl lost her verbal ability and just looked at jay, “i’m going wherever she goes.. so, i’ll see you around.” he said.

the valet driver came right on time, jay was about to open the door for you but you opened it for yourself and just went inside his car not saying anything. jay doesn't really know what the big deal is, he certainly doesn’t get why you’re suddenly mad when you were so smiley earlier.

the car ride was silent too, it was awkward but you think that it’s better this way. but jay didn’t. he wanted the talkative y/n he met at the pub, you’re the same girl but why are you acting so cold all of a sudden?

once his car was parked in front of your apartment, you got out of his car and said “thank you.” and rushed inside. not letting him say any word. you throw yourself onto your bed, screaming.

you thought you were special. turns out jay’s just good at making individuals feel like they are, when in reality you are just like everyone else. a person who seeks the love they think they deserve and need.

PREV, MASTERLIST, NEXT,

TAGLIST, open @yourlocalhotgf @neptuniees @ddeonuism @witheeseung @sunghoonify @one800127 @jaemimpulsive @rikibae @ncityy04 @ryu-naa @curryramyeon @hyuckworld @enhacolor @xoxojayd3n @mishtidoie @jungw8ns @n1k1tty @primorange @sprngfeverr @youreverydayzebra @bayoleta @nikisjpg @jaycenzo @heeslut @she-is-dreaming @kyleeanne

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starlessea · 3 years

Text

Here Comes the Sun: XX. More Than A Feeling (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6480

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, Injury.

Your head pounded like an alarm clock you couldn't shut off. The explosions hadn't done any favours for your tinnitus, either. The high-pitched ringing noise was constant, and only intensified the more you tried not to focus on it. Even now that everything had settled down, it still seemed like you could hear walls crashing around you, or feel the vibrations as the stone crumbled and settled at your feet.

Except, it wasn't brick walls that were sending shock waves over the ground; it was Daryl's footsteps as he paced. You could feel them through your own boots, and sent him a look to try and coax him to sit down.

"It's a sprained ankle, Daryl. I didn't lose my leg." You said gently, before someone cleared their throat.

You looked down at Hershel, who was in the process of wrapping the bandages, and winced as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, awkwardly.

Everything had gone mostly to plan. The governor and his men had been driven away, and the others had returned from Woodberry with even more survivors. You hadn't gotten the chance to see them yet, but the ruckus drifted up the stairs and you could feel the marching of the stampede as though they had been part of the army themselves.

The prison remained standing, albeit missing a watchtower and seeming a bit dilapidated in a few places - but your home was once again yours. You'd sacrificed so much for it. Lori, T-Dogg, Axel, Oscar, and Merle had all lost their lives just so that you could sit here now, complaining of flesh-wounds and mild injuries like they were the most perilous problems you could face.

Daryl didn't seem to agree, however, and narrowed his eyes at you - or more specifically, at the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd taken a bit of a fall, but it wasn't like you'd cracked it open. Though, that didn't stop the man from treating you like Humpty Dumpty - trying to fix all of your pieces despite them not actually being broken.

"I don' care!" Daryl yelled, and you felt Hershel flinch as he made another pass with the bandages.

The man slung his crossbow onto the mattress, and you felt the bed dip beside you from the weight of it. His face was all scrunched up into a scowl, and you wanted nothing more than to hold it in your hands and bring his cheek to yours.

"What the hell d'ya try an' pull tha' for?" He asked, but this time his voice had lost its fight. "You could've gotten yerself killed." Daryl said quietly, like it almost killed him to say, too.

The older man stayed silent as he continued to do his job, and you felt guilty for having let him get caught up in this.

"But I didn't." You reminded Daryl, before shooting a light-hearted smile his way. "Certain victory, remember?"

Your eyes glanced down to his hand, and at the shoddily drawn rune you'd given him with a sharpie earlier in the day. He didn't say anything back, but his pacing had stopped - and he looked straight at you as you spoke.

"And although the governor got away, don't you think he'll be easier to find with a bullet in his shoulder?"

If you had anything to show for your injuries, at least it was that. You offered a teasing smirk to the man - one that probably made him wonder if you had a concussion.

"I think I know a pretty good tracker, too." You joked, nodding in his direction.

Daryl didn't smile back. You watched as the man took a seat next to you on the mattress, and noticed the way his eyes rested on Hershel as he tended to your injuries better than he could have.

"Ya should've followed the plan." He mumbled, so quietly that you barely caught it.

You let out a sigh, unable to hide your guilt. Daryl had an expression you'd only seen him wear once before, and you didn't like it in the slightest.

"I had a clear shot." You reasoned timidly, like you were trying to convince yourself of your words.

You had done; it was true. Except, you should have taken a moment to consider your actions. You thought that you were in fact the hypocrite - since when the time came, you'd been the one to shoot first, and ask questions later.

"If my aim was a little better we wouldn't even be having this conversation." You told him, and offered a sheepish smile alongside it. "I'm sorry I missed."

Hershel tightened the knot as he finished wrapping your foot. You lifted your leg and outstretched it to examine his work. Tentatively, you wiggled your toes, and thanked the man when you felt no pain in doing so. Daryl sent a nod in his direction too, before turning back.

"I don' give a damn if ya missed." He told you, barely above a whisper.

Hershel ushered himself out of the room as quietly as he could manage, trying not to intrude any longer. As soon as he'd left, Daryl let his head drop onto your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath over the crook of your neck.

"I only care tha' yer alive." He admitted, mumbling against the skin there. "I can't lose you, too."

You leant back against the man. He seemed so downtrodden, but for the first time since the farm, you felt safe. You remembered that first night after you'd cleared the prison, sitting out in that field around the campfire. You'd asked him then if he thought this could be your home. Now, you decided, it was.

"Have more faith in me, Dixon." You told him, and stroked his hair - letting your nails run along his scalp gently. "I think I must be pretty hard to kill."

Despite the head injury, the events of that morning were as clear as day to you - as clear as the cloudless sky had been when you all took your positions. The strategy had been to ambush them when they came, and you had been the one to dissuade Rick from utilising the watchtowers.

"They'll be their first target." You'd said, and luckily he had listened.

You and Daryl had been checking the guns, before deciding to take one last walk around the perimeter. You'd scouted their vehicles en route to the prison, so you knew it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose. The day was otherwise serene, and you hoped that once all of this was over you'd get the chance to revel in the sunshine and celebrate your certain victory.

You smiled over at the man, remembering what you'd wanted to tell him. The two of you were checking for breaches in the fences, making sure that the governor's men couldn't infiltrate from anywhere you wouldn't expect. You watched as Daryl pulled on the lattice wire to make sure it was secure, and you slipped your hand into his other, free one.

He gave you a subtle glance, but didn't make any sarcastic remarks in return. The two of you walked hand-in-hand alongside the fences, as though you were going on a mundane, morning stroll in the sun. It was silent, and you both seemed to just bask in the peace whilst it still lasted. Though, once you had gone full-circle, and had ended up back where you'd started, you stopped in place.

You fished around in your pocket and pulled out the sharpie you'd scavenged from Glenn earlier in the day. Daryl looked at it suspiciously, but let you do as you pleased - just like always. Carol had noted how much of a soft spot the man had for you, and you couldn't even deny it at this point. The two of you had woken up entangled in each other this morning, and it had taken you the better part of half an hour to coax him to let you get up. You could tell he was scared of what the day would bring. Despite claiming to be a man 'not scared of nothing,' you knew that Daryl Dixon was afraid of one thing above all else - and that was losing you.

"Give me your hand." You instructed, and pulled the cap off the top of the pen with your teeth.

The man eyed the permanent marker, before looking down at your interlocked hands.

"Yer holdin' it." He grumbled, and you rolled his eyes at his dry humour.

"The other one." You clarified, pointing in the direction. "It needs to be on the same side."

You took his hand in yours before he had time to question you further, and pressed the sharpie to it. You drew the simple pattern, watching as the ink bled out slightly over the cracks in his skin.

It was the same rune of Týr that you had tattooed on your hip - the one Daryl claimed 'looked like an arrow.' He stared at it once you'd finished, stretching out his fingers before balling his hand into a fist. Maybe it was a little childish to want to wish him luck in this way, and you thought that Daryl was a man quite capable of victory by himself, but you'd wanted to do it nonetheless.

"Look, we match." You exclaimed with a smile, but the words felt familiar on your tongue.

Daryl must have thought so, too, as you saw some kind of recognition flash behind his eyes. Then, you remembered it. The memory washed over you like a wave coming onto shore. It had been back on the farm, where you lay next to each other on that springy, double bed. He'd had an arrow wound in his side, and your bullet hole matched it nicely. You'd pointed it out to him with a grin, too doped up on medication for your own good. It felt so long ago - back when you'd been more young and naive to the world, and he'd been more angry at it.

"I guess some things never change." You admitted, and you could tell that he understood.

You felt him squeeze your hand, and looked back down at the semi-tattoo you'd drawn haphazardly.

"An' other things do." He replied.

When the first explosion rang out, your mind immediately thought back to that moment. The front left watchtower had been decimated, just as you had predicted, and the tanks began to roll in through the field. Whilst some of the group were hidden away in the prison interior, waiting to ambush those who came in, you stayed outside with Maggie and Glenn - ready to catch any stragglers who made it back out.

Daryl hadn't wanted you to be in the thick of it, and you could tell why. From the looks of it, the governor's army was partially made of toy soldiers. From your position, you could make out young boys and girls barely through their teenage years, and adults who looked like they had never held a weapon before. You would have found it hard to kill them - even if you needed to.

From your hiding place, however, you couldn't see the governor. The group was too dense, and he was probably lurking somewhere in the middle - just like the coward he was. You stared down the scope of your rifle, trying to get a better view. All around you, you could hear the sounds of crumbling stone, and the flicker of flames as they burned the tower to the ground. There had only been a couple of warning rounds shot at the building, but they'd done more damage than you were comfortable with. You just hoped that Daryl and the others were alright inside.

The whole thing seemed to last a couple of minutes at most. As quickly as the group had entered the cellblock, they were forced back out in a shroud of smoke and gunfire. Maggie and Glenn had their guns aimed, but it looked to be a clean retreat. The govenor's makeshift suicide army had all turned back, and were fleeing into the forest - so you didn't shoot at them.

That had been the plan anyway, until you caught sight of a familiar eyepatch and the man who wore it. You jumped up from behind the bushes like someone had set them alight, and ran over to the wall for cover. Maggie and Glenn shouted at you, but you continued until you reached it. It was part of the fence you'd reinforced with steel, and you ducked behind it to peer through the gunhole.

The man was returning back to the tank, mowing down anyone who got in his way. You stared through your rifle scope, finger hovering the trigger. You would have pulled it, but a civilian got in your line of sight at the last second.

"Shit." You whispered, below your breath, and slung the rifle back over your shoulder.

You hopped the fence and started running, making your way to the blazing watchtower that was set alight like a torch. The base was still steady, and it provided good cover whilst allowing you to move in closer. The calm summer's day had been transformed into a warzone in a matter of minutes. Shouts and gunfire rang out around you as you dashed to the burning building. When you reached it, you quickly ducked down and pressed your back to the stone as you set up your rifle.

It hasn't been part of the plan; you knew that. Though, you didn't just want to let the man walk free, either. If you weren't the one to do it, it would be someone else - perhaps Rick, or Michonne, or even Daryl. You wanted to pull your weight, especially if it meant that their shoulders wouldn't have to bear the burden of it.

The tower creaked and groaned above your head, and your eyes quickly glanced upwards to catch sight of the flames that licked the sky - creating an amber haze that resembled sunset. You ignored the sound, and locked onto the governor once again. This time, he was clambering into the vehicle, and you knew that it would be your last chance. Your line of sight was clear, and so you let your finger squeeze the trigger - and felt the jolt of the gun as it hit back against your shoulder.

The bullet connected, and you watched the man stagger backwards. He turned to face your direction, and your gazes caught for a split second - like you could see it all unfold in slow motion. Then, you heard a crash, and time resumed as normal.

Glass shattered above your head and fell onto you like jagged raindrops, and the stone debrid came following like lightning after it. The tower shifted, and you watched it crumble for a brief moment before the adrenaline kicked in. You abandoned your rifle and jumped up, starting to run in the opposite direction. Rubble came pouring down and bounced over the concrete at your feet. You felt small pieces nick your legs, but continued to sprint as you heard Maggie and Glenn call your name in the distance. You couldn't outrun the collapse, but you'd managed to dive behind one of the fences just in time to shield yourself.

You'd squeezed your eyes closed as the tower fell, and huddled your knees to your chest to protect yourself. The stone structure made the most almighty crash as it caved to the ground, and suddenly the courtyard was completely shrouded in dust. It wasn't until the smoke cloud had settled and you recognised figures emerging from the fog that you realised you'd made it.

Your head stung, and you pressed your fingers to your temple only to notice that something had drawn blood there. You must've been struck by some stray piece of rubble, you thought. You were a bit dazed, but you could make out voices clearly as they shouted your name. You recognised one in particular, and your heart sped up in response.

"C'mon, Teach!" Daryl yelled, but you couldn't pin-point where from.

You tried to call back, but your throat was dry and your voice barely made its way out of your lips.

"Can ya hear me?" He shouted again. "Call out to me if ya can hear me!"

Clearing your throat, you tried again.

"Daryl!" You screamed, and this time it resonated. "I'm here!"

You noticed a shift in the fog, and figures got clearer as they made their way through it.

"I'm over here!" You yelled again, your voice breaking over the words.

The man came running over to you as soon as he could tell where you were. You'd been hidden behind the sheet of metal, sat amongst a pile of debrid, but he still found you. You could feel the fresh blood trickling down your forehead, but you wiped it away with the back of your hand and sent him a watery smile of pure relief. Daryl took in the sight, and the way your foot seemed to be turned in an awkward angle beneath you - and his eyes widened.

"What did you do?" He asked, rushing over to your side in an instant.

You looked back at him with an equally dumbfounded expression.

"I shot him." You admitted. "I shot the governor."

After Hershel had left your cell, you and Daryl stayed sitting on the mattress together for a little while. You let him rest his head over your shoulder, which soon turned into lying on your chest as you both slumped back into the pillows. It was a little different from what you were used to, but you held his head and stroked his hair gently. You thought that he needed the comfort, and you were fine with being able to return it for once.

Maggie and Glenn had informed you that they'd seen everything go down - and that you'd actually hit the governor in the shoulder, rather than his chest. It was a bitter disappointment, but they'd reassured you that you'd still done a good job - after they'd given you a scolding, that is. You weren't entirely sure what had possessed you to do it - to abandon the plan. Maybe it was the images of a beaten Glenn and an inconsolable Maggie that you weren't able to rid yourself of, or perhaps it was the nightmares you had of cowering beneath Axel's body. More likely, it was the recent death of Merle, and what it had done to Daryl as a result. Whatever it was, you didn't regret it. The governor had deserved everything that was coming for him, and you'd just happened to be the one to pass the sentence.

Daryl's eyelids seemed heavy, and his breathing had evened out. You knew that if you didn't rouse him now, he'd probably fall asleep within a matter of minutes. It was selfish, but you didn't want that. You wanted to celebrate your victory - no matter how certain it had been.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." You whispered, and gently moved his hair back from his face.

The man inhaled sharply, and you watched his eyes flicker as they adjusted to the light. You let out a soft chuckle, which you were sure he could feel resonate through your chest.

"Can you help me down the stairs?" You asked sweetly, hoping to coax him awake. "I want to meet everyone."

He'd already carried you out of the rubble once today, but you hoped he'd be generous enough to lend you an arm as you hobbled down the metal steps. Daryl sat up and stretched his neck side to side before glancing over at you, his eyes immediately resting over your bandaged forehead to check it was still alright. You offered a smile to reassure him, and eventually the man nodded in return.

"It's gonna get a lot nosier 'round 'ere." He grumbled, but it didn't sound like he really minded.

Daryl had your arm slung over his shoulder as you both attempted the stairs. His other hand was on your waist for support, and he waited patiently as you took each step - going along with your pace. You'd heard the commotion from your cell, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of people that had been brought back from Woodberry.

As your foot hit the final step you were greeted by an unexpected round of applause, interspersed with the occasional cheers. You almost stumbled back in shock, but Daryl caught your arm before you could trip.

"There she is!" Glenn yelled over the crowd. "Our suicidal sniper."

You shot Daryl a side-eye glance, but the man just shrugged in response. Your gaze ran over the unfamiliar faces as they smiled, or looked at you curiously, and you suddenly felt inadequate in comparison. You stood leaning against Daryl in your dusty clothes and bandages, and sheepishly lowered your head as they stared. Eventually, Daryl shooed them all away, warning them to 'get out of your face.'

It made you laugh, and you aimed some teasing remarks in his direction - pestering him if he'd like to become your bodyguard. The chatter buzzed around you like nothing you'd ever heard before. Even in the old world, the atmosphere couldn't compare. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd even laid eyes on so many people at once. You knew that you'd have to clear out some other cell blocks just to make room for them all. This was the start of something; you just knew it.

Someone called your name from amongst the fray, but Daryl didn't stop ushering you over to a nearby seat. You whipped your head around in confusion, but continued to shuffle along until you had the opportunity to sit down. He leant against the table next to you, resembling a diligent guard dog. Daryl was the most loyal man you'd ever met, and everyday he reminded you not to settle for anything less. You wondered how anyone could ever come close to him - past or present. Your ex had been a mere speck of poorly-chosen dust in comparison to Daryl Dixon.

The man seemed to be able to read your thoughts, as he glanced in your direction with perfect timing - causing you to look away. You heard your name through the thick of the crowd again, and this time tried harder to locate the source. Only a few seconds later, someone emerged from the centre of the room, pushing past everyone so that she could get to you.

The woman had neat brown hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a sundress that looked like it had been recently pressed. All of the former Woodberry inhabitants looked clean, but she definitely stood out due to how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a warm coffee colour, and her smile was bright as she looked over at you.

You choked on your words, immediately standing up only to stumble into Daryl's shoulder. He quickly got a hand under your arm to steady you, but had a disapproving expression on his face as he did so.

"Vanessa?" You spluttered out, and she gave you an excited nod in return.

Daryl barely had time to step aside before the woman bounded up to you and flung her arms around your neck. She squeezed you so tightly that you forgot how to breathe, but you hugged her back with the same force - clasping your arms around her back.

You were utterly speechless. The last time you'd seen the woman, the two of you were witnessing the complete horror of your camp being destroyed. You'd looked for her in the days following, but she'd seemed to simply disappear into the night. You hadn't even thought she'd made it out alive. She'd been your colleague before all this, and then your campmate. But, most importantly, she'd been your friend.

You stared at her as she pulled away, and she giggled at your dumbfounded expression. Her smile was as pretty as you remembered, and you suddenly felt pale in comparison to her rosy cheeks and honey complexion. She was as quick-witted as ever, and wasted no time in regaining her composure to tease you like you'd never even spent any time apart.

Daryl watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt, but you could tell that he was starting to put the pieces together.

"You were the one who shot him?" She asked, as though in utter shock.

She had her hands on either of your shoulders, and looked you up and down before settling over your one foot that you kept hovering above ground.

"Yeah." You replied sheepishly, and glanced off to the side.

The woman slapped your arm in disbelief, and Daryl shot her a warning look that made you snort. She looked over at the man, too, and raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth happened to you?" She questioned, meeting your eyes this time.

You stared at the floral pattern of her sundress, secretly wishing you had something equally as pretty, and shrugged.

"Well, I hit my forehead and sprained my ankle-" you started, but the woman cut you off.

"I don't mean that." She remarked, with a disapproving tone.

She sounded the same as she did on those days you'd spend your lunch breaks together, or go and get coffee at the local shop - trading gossip and work secrets. She grinned at you mischievously, and it didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

"Where is the timid girl who sang 'Yellow Submarine' to us from her tent every night?"

The man beside you was the one to laugh this time, and you jabbed him with your elbow in response.

"I really do miss that tent." You mumbled under your breath, and thought you could hear Daryl weakly protest below his.

Vanessa eyed the two of you, and her mouth upturned into a grin you recognised all too well. It was the one she wore when whispering to you about cute baristas, or when sliding her number across the bar.

"And who's this?" She said, in a tone that was equally as familiar.

She turned to face Daryl, and gave him a quick once-over like she was checking for any visible flaws. You couldn't contain your laugh; she always did lack subtlety.

"This is Daryl." You told her, and slipped your hand into his. "My-" you paused, furrowing your eyebrows as you did, "boyfriend?"

It came out like a question, and Daryl snorted uncharacteristically from beside you.

"'M too old for tha' word." He grumbled, but it was still light-hearted.

You took the opportunity to have some fun, and pressed your chest against his arm as you got closer to his ear.

"What do you want me to say, then?" You asked teasingly. "My partner? Sweetheart?"

The man seemed completely taken aback to hear you call him anything besides 'Dixon.'

"My other half? The old ball 'n chain-" you continued, but were abruptly interrupted as he shrugged you off in embarrassment.

"D'you wan' another head injury?" He asked - a little too quickly and a lot too loudly.

Vanessa laughed her usual dainty laugh, and you'd almost forgotten that she was even there. Daryl's cheeks were dusted a light pink, and you knew he would remind you of this later when you were alone.

"You two are good together." The woman spoke, causing you to look over in her direction. "I'm glad you found someone in all of this."

You gave her a shy smile, before looking down at your feet. You'd never been good with compliments, but she always seemed to have an abundance of them to give.

"After everything you've been through," she went on, this time glancing over at Daryl with a look that could only be described as approval. "You really deserve someone who can make you happy."

Happy. That is what this feeling was. You'd almost forgotten what the word meant, but you were suddenly reminded. Daryl had made you feel a lot of things since you'd met him - first a lot of nerves and sometimes even frustration, but eventually it became comfort and security. However, you realised that all along there were moments of happiness. Even back at the farm, the man never did fail to make you laugh - intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it was his dry sense of humour, or the wise-cracks he'd make in those days where he seemed younger, and more willing to fight the world.

You looked over at the man like you'd only just come to the most obvious of realisations. Daryl Dixon made you happy - like nothing else had before.

As the night started to settle down, the atmosphere fizzled away along with it. Everyone had taken to their temporary sleeping arrangements, and you could tell that Daryl was holding back his yawns as he helped you clamber over the people left chatting on the floor. The day felt like it had gone on for a week, and you couldn't wait to just sink into bed and let your bandaged head meet the pillows.

Across the block, you spotted Rick talking to some of the new residents, and urged Daryl to return to the cell ahead of you. The man glanced down at your foot and then back up to your eyes, as though needing to state the obvious. You shook your head, telling him that you'd get Rick to help you up the stairs once you were done. You just wanted to talk to the officer briefly, and didn't want to keep Daryl up any longer than he needed to be.

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he left you propped up against the wall where you instructed him to. His stubbornness had definitely rubbed off on you, you'd realised, and he could hardly attempt to fight against it.

"Deputy Grimes!" You called, once Daryl was out of ear-shot. "Get over here for a second."

The man looked up from his conversation, and you watched him excuse himself before making his way over. He looked equally as exhausted as the rest of you, and stepped heavily over the stone floor. Still, he gave you a small smile as he approached, and squeezed your shoulder.

"You did good today." He drawled, praising you for the second time tonight.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

"Don't let Daryl hear you say that." You warned, with a teasing look. "I could have died, remember?"

You'd said the words in Daryl's Southern accent, impersonating the man the best you could. Rick laughed in response, and you quickly glanced over your shoulder just to double-check that the archer wasn't still looming there.

"Never knew him to be so uptight." The officer replied, and you shrugged.

"He just needs a good night’s sleep." You explained, glancing over at the staircase leading to the second floor. "I think we all do."

Rick especially seemed like he was dead on his feet, but he held it together well. You couldn't imagine the pressure he felt having to keep everyone safe during times like these. You wanted to ease that burden a little, or even just throw some distractions in the mix to make him forget about it.

"Anyway, I heard that Glenn found a camera at Woodberry." You started, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you.

A few hours ago you'd hijacked it, and briefly kidnapped the Grimes children for that photoshoot you'd been threatening. The polaroid had turned out even better than you'd hoped - and you had almost been tempted to keep it for yourself.

You pulled the picture from your pocket, careful not to bend it, and passed it to the man. His eyes squinted as he looked at it, flat atop his palm. Both Carl and Judy were sporting their sheriff's hats, and the older Grimes had his sister perched on his lap.

"Thank you for everything you've done for us, Rick." You told him, and watched as he brought the picture closer to his face. "I'll never forget how you were always there for me."

It was rare that you ever saw the man speechless, but in that moment you were sure you saw a glimpse of the same Rick Grimes you'd first encountered back at the farm - that officer friendly who would give anything for his family.

He shook his head wordlessly, before tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He said quietly, before slinging one of your arms around his neck. "And I don't think you ever will."

You returned to your cell soon after that, bidding the officer goodnight at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before reminding you to change your bandages in the morning. You laughed in response, wondering why all the men around you treated you like glass.

The room was quiet as you ducked under the sheet hanging at the doorway, and you shuffled inside. Daryl had lit the small lamp on the table, and it cast a warm, golden glow over him where he lay. He had his eyes closed, but you noticed he had your headphones on - connected to the walkman that was left at the edge of the mattress.

You could hear the faint din of the music as some sound escaped, and slowly made your way over to the bed - not wanting to startle the man. He was still fully dressed, and had his arms tucked under his head as he lay on his back. You didn't think he was asleep; rather, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You knelt down onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your weight as you crawled up beside him. He didn't react, so you pulled one side of the headphones from his ear, and brought your lips close to it.

"Boo." You whispered, and blew hot air there to make him shiver.

This time he cracked an eye open, and pulled you down beside him gently. He continued to be mindful of your head, and plumped a pillow up for you to lay on. He then removed the headphones, and twisted the ends of them so that the speaker parts were facing outwards.

You chuckled at the action, suddenly thinking back on your childhood where you'd share a pair with your friends. Daryl placed them in the space between the two of you, so that you could both listen to the songs together. You heard something by The Beatles play muffled, and closed your eyes to take in the melody.

The two of you talked briefly, and sleepily, for a bit. Daryl grumbled about you using him as a makeshift crutch for the majority of the night, and you just hummed in response. You caught him glancing over at you every now and then, but he made no attempt to pull you closer like he usually would have. You knew it was because of your head; he didn't even have to tell you.

"Hershel said it might leave a small scar." You told him, like it was a secret you felt needed to be disclosed.

You didn't really mind all that much, but you knew Daryl had a tendency to look at you guilt-stricken whenever he saw you injured. You just wanted to warn him - just in case.

"Like Harry Potter or some shit?" The man mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Maybe." You replied.

The chatter downstairs had settled, and all that remained was the tinny sound of the music that quietly played near your ear. You swallowed thickly, staring up at the ceiling to see the uneven cracks that marred it.

"Will you still love me if I have a gawdy scar over my forehead?" You asked teasingly - but a part of you felt nervous to hear the response.

Then, your eyes widened as you realised your choice of words. You sat up, immediately feeling the blood rush to your head as you did so.

"Wait-" you stuttered, noticing the man's expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He cut you off before you could finish.

"I will."

You blinked, but he pulled you back down to him - this time letting you lay your head gently over his chest.

"Know I ain't said it before, but-" he paused, "I love ya."

His heartbeat pounded quickly against your cheek, as though proving his words.

"I love ya so goddamn much, so don't ever pull that shit on me again."

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, and hoped he couldn't feel them dampen his shirt.

"I love ya - you crazy woman who shot the governor an' took a bullet for me."

You swallowed thickly, trying to hide the wateriness of your voice as you responded.

"I love you too, Dixon." You admitted, wondering why you hadn't done so before.

You'd loved the man almost as long as you could remember; but it was one thing to love, and another thing to be loved in return.

"I won't let anything on this earth take me away from you." You mumbled against him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Daryl breathed in deeply, and you moved along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is what happiness felt like, you decided. Happiness wasn't as perfect as you had once thought it to be - back in the old world. It wasn't that amazing job, or the hard-earned paycheck, nor was it the men who called you pretty whilst giving you an ugly stare. Happiness for you was now walking around the perimeter of a dingy prison, hand-in-hand, as you stared up at the morning sun preparing for a fight. Happiness was those nights you'd stay awake, listening to the laughs down the hall of Maggie and Glenn as they whispered about their future together, and noticing that Daryl was eavesdropping, too. Most importantly, happiness was the man who you woke up next to, and the sound of his voice as he told you 'good morning.'

You looked down at his hand, resting on his chest, and saw the ink there that had smudged throughout the day. The walkman finished its tune, and there was a brief, few-second silence before it skipped to the next one. A familiar melody rang out, and Daryl placed a careful kiss over your hair.

"I like this song." He whispered against you, and you nodded in return.

"Yeah, me too."

A/N It took 20 chapters, 120k words, but they finally exchanged their ‘I love you’s.’ I think it was obvious that they already loved each other before this, but hearing them say it out loud just-

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