#posts have clean lines so i can tell when one goes from the next

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#savannah’s fics #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington sick fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff

[my-jukebox]

I finished the one piece live action and I have to say, I loved it so much that I decided to write something!! Posting this on Sanji's birthday, because why not?

When you cook for them

Genre: Imagines, Fluff

Characters: (gn!reader) Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Shanks, and Mihawk.

Luffy

Would try to help you out but ends up eating most of the ingredients.

According to him, he's your taste tester and sous chef but God forbid, anyone letting him in the kitchen.

After throwing him out of the kitchen, you could finally cook in peace.

He would be pouting and everything when you get out of the kitchen but immediately smiles brightly when he sees the dishes all set out.

Would drool before you even serve him, and talks with his mouth full.

Devours the food like it's his last meal and savours every moment of it.

After eating, as a way of saying thanks, he would help you by cleaning the dishes (doesn't do a good job but who's complaining)

Zoro

Gets surprised when you say you're cooking for him and frankly, doesn't disturb you at all.

But makes jokes on how you'll burn the kitchen down, burn the food, and whatnot.

He sits wherever he can best watch you cook while sipping on his wine.

Every time you catch him gawking at you, he shrugs it off saying he was looking at the food instead, but the blush on his face says otherwise.

Once you're done, he doesn't hesitate to dig in like there's no tomorrow.

It doesn't matter if you cook badly or not, he'll eat it without complaining because that's just how much he loves you.

He pours some wine for you and sits as close as he possibly can, intertwining your fingers together.

Will also help you clean up as an excuse to spend more time together.

Sanji

The most annoying out of everyone here, honestly.

Keeps asking you what you're adding and why, what you're making, and the usual "you're doing it all wrong babe."

Still lets you do your own thing while he looks over your shoulder.

If you add oregano to the pasta, he'll throw it out of your hands and won't even say anything about it.

After the final touches, you place the plate in front of him and look at him with hopes that he likes it.

For Sanji, anything you do for him is good enough. He won't ask for much.

As he finishes eating, he'll look at you and for the hell of it, says, "Not bad."

A glare is enough to shut him up and smirk at you as you slowly break into laughter.

Nami

She would be the most delighted, after Luffy of course.

Volunteers to help out and goes grocery shopping with you.

You won't tell her what you're making, and she couldn't care less as long as you are the one making it.

Would love if you finish fast so you can give her attention but won't admit it.

Once you serve her, she's already humming and praising you.

Hopes you cook for her again, and next time she'll help out.

Shanks <3

Tells you that you don't have to but secretly loves that you're doing it for him.

Whether you like it or not, he's going to sit atop the counter and make his stupid puns, knowing you'll laugh at them even if they aren't funny.

He tells you stories of the crew and his adventures.

Helps you serve the food and has you sit with him on the counter as he eats.

Doesn't matter if the food is good or not, he is eternally grateful for your hard work and makes it known by his sweet gestures.

After he finishes, he smiles gently at you and gets off the counter.

If you ask him what he's doing, he'll kiss your forehead and say, "Don't you want dessert? My treat!!"

Ends up making the worst dessert but hey, at least he tried.

Mihawk

When he sees you cooking, he won't even question it and just lets you do whatever.

However, he will wrap his hands around you from behind and rest his head on your shoulder.

Impatient as he is, he will keep asking you if you're done.

Once you're actually done, he'll say something along the lines of, "Took you forever."

Needless to say, he does appreciate the food you made for him, considering the shitty jobs he has to put up with.

The type to act like a food critic but knows shit about anything food-related.

Gives honest feedback though, but makes sure it doesn't hurt your feelings in any way.

This one was fun to write. I hope you guys enjoyed my first post. Feel free to request for more. I'll add a taglist if you guys want.

Do like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed!!

#sami writes #One Piece #one piece imagines #opla #opla x reader #monkey d. luffy #Luffy x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #sanji one piece #Sanji x reader #one piece nami #Nami x reader #shanks one piece #shanks x reader #dracule mihawk #Mihawk x reader

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

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You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

#smut #mike schmidt #jhutch #fanfic #enemies to lovers #clapton davis #clapton x reader #clapton smut #mike schimdt x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #clapton davis smut #light angst

[ladyjenise]

Thoughts on why Ganondorf makes "that face" in Tears of the Kingdom

I'm several months late, but I didn't want to post spoiler stuff when the game was fresh and, frankly, I had quite a whack summer. So here we are.

Anyway, onto the meta: my thoughts on why Ganondorf makes "that face" in Tears of the Kingdom.

Yes, this face:

One of the first things I want to do is credit some rad metas that helped me along in my thought process:

-Discussion of Ganondorf's facial design from a technical and creative standpoint

-Discussion of Ganondorf's outfit

And now to the actual meta! Will include spoilers for Tears of the Kingdom.

When the screenshots of Ganondorf making "that face" first hit the internet, there was a lot of lol and wtf, which was fair. Most people weren't that far in the game yet. Actually, not sure it was even out yet (there was an early leaked ROM floating around at some point pre-release). I don't want to dwell much on people's initial reactions as I think if you're here reading you've already processed your initial feelings on seeing it. And your initial reaction of LOL WTF is fine. Out of context, it probably made little sense.

But let's talk about context: Ganondorf makes this face after killing Sonia for her Secret Stone. He's literally laughing over her dead body as Zelda calls out vainly to the fallen queen. It's a very heinous, dramatic act. And I think, in context, that confused people even more because his face, on first glance, feels over the top and silly for such a serious moment. However, it's not there because Nintendo's devs don't know what they're doing. At least, that's what I'm trying to argue here.

Let's discuss the build up to this scene in the story chronology: Ganondorf tries to use moldugas to attack the fledgling kingdom of Hyrule. It goes badly because Rauru, alongside Sonia and Zelda, are able to use Secret Stones of the Zonai to fend off the attack. It's a very lopsided victory.

Ganondorf takes a moment to pout before observing the Secret Stones. Ganondorf correctly observes that brute force will not be enough. Not one to sit back on his failures, Ganondorf is clearly already hatching a new plan. End of scene.

We next see Ganondorf at the court of Rauru and Sonia, bending the knee in what we know is a false act of fealty. Of course, this scene is a reference to the plot of Ocarina of Time (where we spy on Ganondorf through a window as he bends the knee to the King of Hyrule, who is out of the shot). it's also a glimpse of Ganondorf the schemer.

If you had not met Ganondorf before playing Tears of the Kingdom, you might actually think Ganondorf is just a mindlessly violent guy (and he is that too, don't get me wrong). You might not have expected this dude to roll up to the court of Hyrule and start playing the political game. His character design looks like the exact kind of guy who could punch your head clean off your body. Just look at him:

He's a brick wall. He looks like a big tough guy, and maybe he's just some big dummy who only understands violence. It's a stereotype Nintendo has subverted again and again with his character. And there Ganondorf is at the court of Rauru serving backhanded compliments like a pro. And while Rauru assures Zelda that he knows Ganondorf is up to shit, he's really got Rauru convinced that he can handle him. As we shall see, Rauru was mistaken. But that's Ganondorf for you. His character is about subverting expectations. This is what makes him so very fun.

Even his costume, with the reversible robe, tells you a lot about who he is. On the outside, a calm, clever, cultured man. On the inside, he's ready to fuck your shit up. I love it.

Back to the scene.

After assuring Rauru he simply wants to play nice and have the protection of Hyrule, Ganondorf serves some cunty lines implying Rauru is an interloper and an outsider etc before leaving. And it's at this point I noticed that when Ganondorf takes his leave, he makes this really flourishing move with his arm that made me stop and think.

You can probably find the scene online somewhere, but here's a screenshot of what I mean:

And note that he also uses his sleeved arm, creating that extra diva flourish as he goes. We also get a real good fast look at how colourful and different his sleeve is. He's turned his back to Rauru and the others after swearing his fealty. His changeable nature is displayed to the player. It's a nice wink and nod to Ganondorf's later betrayal. Only Zelda has a real inkling that he's really, really bad news and probably shouldn't even be there. But if you've played Ocarina of Time, you understand that Zelda isn't listened to until it's too late.

Returning to the flourish itself: Ganondorf didn't have to do this. And Nintendo didn't have to waste animation time having him do this. But they did. And they did it again when he laughs over Sonia's body. And they do it again when he swallows his Secret Stone. They just. keep. doing. it.

Why?

Why do all this extra dramatic animation for Ganondorf?

Those familiar with kabuki (a classical form of Japanese theatre) are probably screaming KABUKI, and I would agree. I didn't immediately get there at first only because my background was in another form of classical theatre: Greek (ask me about my unversity minor lol). I'm not going into a deep dive on either classical Greek theatre nor kabuki because that's a lot, I'm not really an expert or super familiar with the details, and I also think their Wikipedia pages will probably give you a decent summary of what you might want to learn details on. However, classic Greek theatre is old as shit and has a lot of great stories with characters you'll recognize. I recommend.

What I need you, dear reader, to understand about classic and ancient forms of theatre is their emphasis ON emphasis. It's a lot of what we might think of as exaggerated elements, over-the-top forms, and straight up spelling shit out to the audience. Real archaic shit. Because the world we are watching in these memories IS archaic to Link. There's 10,000 years between the memories we see and Link's time. It's like we, as Link, are viewing a kabuki play or a Greek play about stuff that happened then. It makes perfect sense to have Ganondorf act like he's in an ancient play. And that's how you get shit like this:

This is all theatre.

But why is ancient theatre so weird? It's not. We think it looks weird because it's unfamiliar to us. Most of us don't grow up watching ancient plays. Even those of use who read Shakespeare in school are usually sweating through the now-archaic English (it was only 400-ish years ago!) You're not equipped, and that's cool.

And honestly, if you are familiar with Ganondorf, he truly is a creature of theatre. Just look at this castle he builds in Ocarina of Time:

He destroyed Hyrule Castle to build this giant fucking castle levitating over a pit of lava. Like why? Because he CAN. Because he can't do anything in halves.

Also, his outfits. Look at this shit. He can't tone it down. I don't think he could if he tried.

Coming back to Ganondorf's face when he kills Sonia: when Ganondorf's face contorts and he starts to laugh evilly, we are told in very certain terms that he's made a critical choice. If you weren't sure before, you're being told now: He's evil. There's no going back from this. And he's embracing it. There is zero remorse. Killing her was the act he needed to move from man to monster. It's very important that you, the player, understand this. It's a moral thing. And I don't mean like "If you like this character after you are a bad person" type of thing. That's not what I mean here (and what people who have weird obsessions on the internet often misunderstand just so they can start fights over dumb shit). What I mean is that the storytellers need you need to understand your character's motivations for wanting to fight this guy.

And the next scene plainly shows what I'm talking about: Ganondorf takes the Secret Stone and literally turns into a demon king. He's no longer a man. He's this other, immoral being now. Bye bye, human Ganondorf, hello monster Ganondorf! That's it.

Going back to his eating of the Secret Stone, which changes Ganondorf from good ol' demon king to the for realsies demon dragon, he says some lines about giving up his "body" and "mind" and, frankly "everything", just so he can win. But also it's a desperate last attempt at keeping hold of the power that has so horribly blinded him to the truth.

That last part is ironic for Ganondorf, a man who was clever enough to get into the heart of Hyrule, steal their powerful relic, kill the queen and ALMOST become king. Because that's his ultimate failing. He's smart, clever, and his wins get the better of him. His addiction to power means he never stops to consider he might have weaknesses he cannot yet see, or that, as Rauru warns him, his arrogance and blind faith in his own abilities and talents might be his downfall.

In a way, the story is just as much about Link searching for Zelda and Zelda trying to figure out her role in the world as it is about the fall of a powerful man. Is it tragic that Ganondorf let himself become so corrupted by power that it would slowly transform him from man to demon? I guess it depends on who you ask, really. (I think it's fucking cool)

#legend of zelda #ganondorf #tears of the kingdom #spoilers #tears of the kingdom spoilers

[sanjisblackasswife]

Zoro bodyworship 😼

“𝔾𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘”

Z𝕠𝕣𝕠 𝕩 F𝕖𝕞 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Black Fem Reader in Mind

A/N: ….I never done this. Hope u enjoy🧍🏾‍♀️ Also this was too long so Imma do Zoro RECEIVING body worship next post.

CW: VERY intimate sex, Soft!Zoro, Kissing, Tongue bath, Shy!Zoro, Mentions of Scars on the Reader, Oral

𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐

Zoro never realizes he how much he appreciates your body until he is alone with you.

A man such as him that isn’t really into PDA always holds back his urges until it’s just the both of you together.

He has no issue with giving your body the love and care it solely deserves.

He’s a nervous reck when he is more intimate with you, it’s always more intense and it ends up overwhelming the both of you.

His movements so slow and gentle you almost feel as if you need to tell him to get rougher,

but he wont. He can’t. Time like this, after a rough battle, or even just at random he feels the need to love every single blemish of you.

“Zo…” A breathless moan falls on his ears, his kisses have feathered from you lips, all the way down to your ankle, and he haven’t stopped yet.

Zoro interchanges from kissing to small suckles, which always causes him to hold you down by your hips to keep you still. As the rouge man that he is, he can always know how to be so delicate with you under him.

His eyes are closed as relaxed, so at peace swirling his tongue on your bare breast , you look down and see his head cocked, his pretty golden earrings resting on his cheeks, Zoro truly was a beautiful man.

You felt his thumb caress your hips, slowly pulling off your thong, as he does your nipple slips off his lips, making you frown just a little , already missing his touch. Of course this goes unnoticed by the swordsman.

He smirks down at your bare body, his gaze almost making your want to cover yourself just so he can look away, but you felt frozen, his build is so intimidating upclose and over you. It didn’t matter if you were 5’2” or 5’10”, Zoro knew how to make you feel small and you wasnt sure if that’s what you loved or hated about him.

Your hand reach up to his sharp jawline, pulling him down for just one more moment where his lips are on yours (before they’re on your other ones). His arms, as strong as they are falter and resist from holding himself up when he is against your touch. He stays on his elbows, tounges wrapping against each other, and you always biting his bottom lip just to hear his groaning before a simple kiss of appreciation turns into a sloppy wet passionate make out session.

The spit line that connects you both, finally breaks as Zoro rises up to catch his breath, still peppering you in small kisses on your curled lips.

He looks down at you, eyes almost eating you whole before he dwells to kissing and massaging your stretch marks you complain about having, the scars you’ve earned through tough battles, and every other blemish you’ve grown to have.

You may hate them, but Zoro loved each one as he looked and searched all over you to appreciate.

Zoro wasn’t very talkative during sex, his way of appreciating your entire body is just letting him have free access to do what he wants to you, maybe it was his shyness, maybe it was because he didn’t want to say the wrong thing and ruin the moment, but times like these you don’t mind his quietness, only small groans and hums of appreciation when he slides his tongue down from your neck to your slit,

but if you were to ask him why he doesn’t say much he would just tell you that he loves to hear you more than himself.

“Zo…” You purr with every buck of the hip, Zoro’s head and mouth follows the movements of your needy body asking for more of his licks and sucks.

As you reach that blissful high of cumming on his tongue, you try pushing him away from your sensitive place, but alas he was stronger, staying stubbornly still against your cunt to lick that and your inner thighs clean.

Giving your clit a kiss, ignoring the pains of his own cock twitching against your skin, he wanted to be inside you so badly, he needed to be one with you, you seen the furrow in his brows when he hissed as you grabbed his cock, not breaking eye contact stroking it subtly,

You guide him inside you so slowly just to hear the slutty wet noises, you moan out his name. Zoro’s face immediately turns red hearing you, feeling you, seeing you all like this it was too much, he lets out an exasperated “Fuck.” finally feeling your tight warm walls squeeze him in.

Slowly his hips rock against you, his eye meets your soft tired gaze as your breast bounce to the rhythm of his thrust, “Need you.” Was all he could mutter out before kissing you again, his body weight on top of you causing your legs to immediately lock him in as he picks up your lower half to pick up the pace.

It was all so much for you both, you felt his torso scar rubbing against your soft skin, the stitches felt painfully good you held Zoro by the nape with both arms wrapped around him moaning into his ear which only riled him up more to deeper thrust.

The bed rocks, skin is slapping against one another, his grunts, your whimpers—it was all a sight to see.

And yet none of that compares to the moment when Zoro travels his lips up to your hear to whisper “I love you.”

#one piece #TimikosZoro #black reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x female reader #zoro smut #zoro imagine #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x female reader #zoro #op zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece smut #one piece x black!reader

[princessbunnib]

König |Masturbation Headcannons|

NSFW Under The Cut

Author's Note:

These are very random because I just typed as things came to mind.

On my period which means I'm basically in heat. Here's some filthy König Headcannons.🤤

More König Smut coming. Been taking a break from COD so I can write for a different fandom. Also been taking a break in general. I'll post full smut fics again just wait patiently please. I love all of you♡

Where Does He Do it?

König masturbates at home considering that's always conveniently where he is when an erection accures.

How Does He Do It?

König doesn't have much toys that are for him only. He also isn't the one who goes to the sex store and gets them. You gifted him a fleshlight because you thought it would be extremely hot to know that he uses it.

He hasn't used it much but when he's really riled up- he'll use it and imagine he's fucking you while watching the lewd videos and pictures you've sent to him overtime. He had to buy many phones because he always ruins them by getting carried away when masturbating and accidently finish on them.

Either he come inside the toy for however many loads he can produce, or it's on his phone.

When Does He Do it?

König will masturbate whenever he has an erection like one does. Or other times when he finds himself missing you, he'll masturbate to remember your face until you come home. Although this has a downside, you usually come home to him needing the real thing rather than using a flashlight or his hands. Needless to say, whatever outfit you're wearing will be ripped off of you so he can fuck you.

How Does He Feel About Masturbation?

König doesn't have any negative opinions about this at all. If he needs to come but can't do it the way he usually does it, he will masturbate. He gets tense a lot and chews gum to sooth his nerves. But when he doesn't have any gum the next best thing is to come in order to control himself.

He doesn't tell you about his solo sessions. For all you know, he doesn't do it at all. Since he only does this when you're not home and is very discreet about it, you have no clue.

How Loud Is He?

For the most part König is quiet because his biggest fear is you coming home and seeing him in such a vulnerable state. But when he's on the verge of coming he will say any and everything remotely sexual that he can think of. Rather if it's him talking to himself or talking as if you're the one who's making him come.

"Fuck~ I need to remember how tight you are around my cock- I Miss Youu~ Come home to me already..."

"I'm gonna come- I'm gonna come- I'm so fucking desperate to come, please let me come~"

"Mommy~ mommy please- haah~♡ I'll be good- let me come... ughh fuck..."

"My fucking cock is burning- Coming... coming... coming... c-c-com-coming..."

Stamina

König's rest time is very short. When he's with you he'll do as many rounds as you'll allow him to. When he's alone, it's the same thing. He won't finish until the bottle of lube he's using Is atleast half empty. Or if he runs out of things to clean up his messes with.

Take A Load Off

He can come a lot. Because of his line of work he has to keep a balanced diet to maintain his physical strength. Daily workouts and a lot of healthy home-cooked meals he prepared himself.

Not only his body is healthy. His balls are too. He can produce a lot of come, therefore his creampies are no joke. When he plans on forcing himself to come a lot he'll use his flashlight to lessen the mess. Although it's a bit tedious to clean up the tog after. Not only he is big, his balls are too. They aren't just for show either. They're big for a reason.

His healthy liifestyle makes him have a higher sperm count. Which means that If you weren't on birth control, you would have definitely had a lot of his babies by now.

Take Me To Kinky Town

König has a lot of kinks already. There's some that you still don't know about unfortunately. He's only told you the ones he didn't think would make you think negatively about him.

Even though König can seem to be emotinaly fragile when it comes to your relationship with him, he degrades himself when he's masturbating.

Part of him reels guilty for coming without you. Why creampie a sex toy when he can give it to someone who will actually enjoy it.

The only time he thinks he deserves Praising is of you're the one doing it. He knows he has a praise kink but is too shy to admit it to you. You always like to make a fool out of him by asking him to do a simple task for you when you clearly are able to do it yourself.

He's always looking to be useful for you so he'll do it no matter how easy it may seem. Telling him he's a 'good boy' or just outright saying he's doing an amazing job will give him an erection in an instant.

He'll have to get away from you and take care of this 'personal problem' so you don't get any ideas and use this praise to your advantage just to get your way. If you tire him out with sex or any form of ejaculation, he'll be like putty in your hands for atleast two days.

#smut #mask kink #cod zombies #cod mw22 #codmw2022 #mw2 #mw2 2022 #konig smut #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #konig #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod #ghost mw2 #könig #smut headcanons #smut writing #smutwarning #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #warzone #cod smut

[hotpinkboots]

Oh. My. God. Hi there!!! I’ve been desperately trying to find others who still love WWDITS and write for them so when I came across your post I almost screamed. Can I get Yandere Nadja x Female!Familiar?

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~Yandere!𝕹𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆 x Fem!Familiar!Reader Headcanons~

~~~~~~~~~~

OH. OH HONEY. I had to throw my phone on the couch when I saw this request so I could squeal and wave my hands around. Had me giggling and kicking my feet irl, babes SOMEONE COME SPAM MY INBOX WITH NADJA REQUESTS I'LL KISS YOU

Summary: You're Nadja's stupid little baby. Do I need to explain further

Note(s): I do not watch What We Do In The Shadows episode for episode, I usually skip around. Due to this, some events in the show or the way I portray the characters may be a bit mixed up or off.

Warning(s): Yandere behavior, possessive behavior, gaslighting, guilt tripping, manipulation, objectifying the reader, violence, blood, a little bit of (but not much) sexual content, ect.

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝕹𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆

★★★★

~Nadja has a LOT of big feelings, and she WILL make them known, no matter what the situation is.

~It may not be obvious what she's feeling, but when she's feeling something then everyone is going to feel it, too.

~If she's angry, you had better NOT be caught in the line of fire. If she's sad, she's going to either whine and sulk for attention, or she'll lash out. Emotions vary. She could seem one way when she's really only acting like that because on the inside she's feeling another way.

~So, she's a very hard person to read despite the fact that she speaks her mind without having much of a filter.

~The same goes for how she treats you.

~Her stupid familiar who just follows along with whatever is happening. Her useless human pet who has the HONOR to even be in her presence and clean up after her.

~Treats you like you're her stupid dog.

~She'll degrade you one day, and be giggly with you the next.

~Oh, but don't get too friendly with her, or she'll be annoyed by you. But, make sure you interact just enough, because if you don't, she'll get after you and try to make you entertain her. Ah, yes, but don't try TOO hard to make her happy, either, because you'll get on her nerves.

~The point is that you feel like you're walking on eggshells 24/7.

~She can't decide if she wants you to wear something gorgeous and grand to have you match with her, or if she wants to have you wear ugly baggy clothing so you don't look seem as gorgeous as she does.

~Then she thinks that it'll make HER look bad if you're not dressed up, so she's going to make you wear all the stuff she does so you don't look like you just recently escaped from the sewers after swimming in shit and piss.

~Of course, she might scold you and smack you with the hair brush if you tell her something she's doing with your hair is hurting your scalp.

~But then Nadja saw you smiling in the mirror when she was finished. You looked so gorgeous. So excited to be dressed up like that.

~Suddenly, she wished she could see herself in the mirror beside you.

~Laszlo will join in, too, so all three of you match.

~If you ever have a fight with her, her reactions come in phases.

~First, she'll snap at you and call you names and demand you get out. It's unclear if she means get out of the room, or out of the house, but the point is that she does NOT want to see you after an argument.

~Second, she'll rant and be absolutely furious for awhile.

~Third, she gets upset at herself because she made her own familiar upset. She denies being upset at herself by being a bitch to everybody and claiming they did something wrong, even if they were just standing there.

~Nandor probably got yelled at for just existing or something idk

~Colin Robinson feeds off of all this drama of course.

~Fourth, Nadja decides it's your fault for whatever happened, and she'll cry and run away or something just to get your attention. Will sulk until you're the one to apologize.

~And lastly, once you apologize, she realizes the apology sounds wrong coming from YOUR lips instead of hers, since she was probably the one being a drama queen and making a big deal out of nothing.

~Does not know how the hell to apologize very well but she'll kind of try.

~Nadja will start giving you more cute (sometimes weird) nicknames after that.

~Once she REALLY gets attached and decides she likes you, she'll be silly with you and gossip. She DEMANDS a girl night.

~You're like her pet, now, and will literally go as far as petting your head.

~Does she ever think about putting you in a collar that makes your throat look extra delicious, with a leash attached so she can tug you along and coo at you?

~Absolutely.

~She will beat the absolute shit out of anybody who looks at you the wrong way.

~More than willing to rip open someone's ribs so she can tear out their heart and stomp on it.

~Then she shows you and expects you to be like "wow Nadja you did that for me thank you!"

~Or if you have a terrified reaction, she'll be confused as hell. She just killed someone for you? Hello? That's the ultimate way to show someone you love them, isn't it? Literally be willing to tear people apart for them?

~But she'll baby you and give you a hug, anyway.

~"He was a big stupid asshole, my love, didn't you see the way he looked at you? He deserved to die!"

~Then she'd look back at the bloody scene and point down at the body and yell "He was a PIECE OF OLD PIG SHIT!"

~And then would go back to babying you and giving you all the reasons why the person who looked at you wrong deserved to die

~She has done something like that on multiple occasions and would never be afraid of doing it again.

~Nadja most likely wouldn't make you a vampire for an extremely long time (by that I mean she might literally not do it in time, you might be dead by the time she even decided to consider it 💀. Or, if something awful happens to you and you're on your death bed and she decides she needs you to be immortal for her.)

~She wants you to always be her cute little familiar who comes when called, not her fellow vampire who doesn't work under her anymore.

~If you ever had a one night stand, she's fine with that, and would have everybody in the house sit down so they could listen to you tell them (in detail) everything that happened. You aren't getting out of that one.

~But she would be very jealous if you had a boyfriend/girlfriend, rather than just a fling.

~If you fall in love with anybody, know ahead of time that she's going to consider either murdering them, or at the very least, treating them badly.

~She would try to chase them away by somehow getting them to believe you said something about them that you actually didn't say.

~Then she'd comfort you about your "break up", pretending to be shocked about what happened, as though she didn't plan that.

~Unfortunately for her, she isn't a very good actress, and it's a bit obvious that she was the one who made that happen.

~If you then demanded to know WHY she did that to you, she'd finally admit it in a moment of anger and fear that you found out.

~"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I did that for YOU! They weren't good for you, my darling, why the FUCK don't you understand?!"

~Nadja is most definitely a dangerous yandere. She can be just as volatile and demanding as she can be doting and silly.

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Nadja is my favorite character to write as a yandere omg

Request Guidelines!

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Join my Discord server! We have movie nights, art prompts, a lot of places to ramble about your hyperfixations, and a ton of cool people to meet and roleplay with!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

Reblogs > Likes

#nadja #nadja of antipaxos #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nadja x reader #what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits x reader #pink's fanfic #yandere vampire #vampires x reader #vampire x reader #yandere nadja #yandere nadja x reader

[partyhorn]

Have u ever posted your comic or animation workflow anywhere? Im super curious on how you tackle the process, especially not using a drawing tablet. I know you have a very simple (and adorable) style so that probably helps in terms of workflow -- Im just curious about the steps you take.

Thank you! With both comics and animation my key thing is to not spend too much time on any particular thing, just draw loose and fast. Honestly the only downside to drawing with a mouse is that I can tell my arm has extremely specific muscle memory regarding it- if my mouse breaks and I get a new one I have to spend a good month or so just letting my hand get used to it again lol. Same with if my setup gets readjusted too much- right now my setup is my mouse on one of those padded mousepads, on top of 2 books, with my elbow resting on my 3DS case (I'll get an actual pillow or something for it eventually lol). But luckily thanks to this I suffer very minimal wrist pain 👍

(...Okay I started to go really in depth in my process here, so sorry if this is way more than what you were asking. Putting it under a readmore just to save space lol)

With MFM in particular, I start by writing out the entire script for the next story arc, which really is just all of the dialogue and vague notes about any important actions. Then I do the paneling with very loose stick-figure like sketches of where the characters are and what they're doing. I prefer having very little planning when it comes to character poses and panel shapes, coming up with those on the fly makes things much more exciting and faster to make. But it's the opposite with dialogue... it needs to be 100% FINAL before I draw a single line lol.

That's part of my script for my most recent chapter, as well as what my extremely loose goofy thumbnail sketching is like. I write the script as one big thing and don't separate it into pages until I actually start drawing- then I go and color change it just to keep track of what dialogue goes on each page

After that, I go back and do the ACTUAL sketch, as well as the lettering (I don't believe this is how it's done professionally. I used to do lettering as the very last step in the process... but then found it hard to cram speech bubbles in the right places lmao.) After that is lineart, coloring, background flat colors, then shading/rendering for all of it. I do each step in batches, as in I sketch out ALL pages of a chapter before moving to lineart, I line ALL pages before starting coloring, etc. I find it way easier to be productive when it's broken up like that, though when I first started the comic I used to draw each page to completion before starting the next (but also, the comic's style was DRASTICALLY simpler back then haha)

(Unfortunately I merged some of the shading to the background flat colors so it's not entirely accurate... oops) FireAlpaca has a sand texture feature that I only found out about last year- adding that to the backgrounds makes them look 10x better with WAY less effort.

With animation, it depends on the project. For simple 5-10 second animation I make for fun, there's very little planning lol. I skip some steps in the process- I'll sketch out the keyframes (and maybe any difficult inbetweens if necessary), line those, then go straight into making linework inbetweens. I'm not a cleanup artist and have no experience in that, so I always find trying to line my rough animation makes everything jittery and wobbly. If I do it with a clean line from the start then I can avoid that and save a lot of time 👍

For my bigger projects (such as the Parvey cartoon and the MFM Kickstarter trailer), I do the whole animatic with final audio first and foremost, with the animatic being almost like the keyframes. I split them up into individual shots, .mp4 files anywhere between 1-30 seconds usually, and animate those one at a time. I'm a huge fan of free to use programs and try to use them as much as I possibly can, here's a list of the ones I use:

FireAlpaca- for the actual drawing part itself (storyboarding/animating/etc). FireAlpaca has a feature that lets you export every frame as it's own drawing, as well as an onion skin mode

Windows Movie Maker- for compiling all of those frames into video format, creating individual shots. If you upload all of your frames and set them to around 0.08 seconds, it equals about 12fps (I usually animate at 0.10 seconds/10fps, its a bit slower but looks nice)

Onlinesequencer.net- for making music. It's the place I've made all of my songs on, like the timeloop song, hyperworkaholic, and the background music for the MFM Kickstarter trailer.

Audacity- for editing audio/music. Also great for recording things directly from your desktop

DaVinci Resolve- for editing and putting together all of the shots into one big video. Can get kind of intensive on the computer during rendering, so watch out.

YouCut (app)- also for editing and compiling shots, I used this one a lot a couple years back but I'm not sure how well it holds up. Doesn't need much phone storage to download but needs a lot to render videos.

MS Paint (yes really)- for typing up text. FireAlpaca has a text option but I don't like it as much as Paint's.

...The only thing I genuinely can't do alone is voice acting. Luckily there's a big voice acting community on Twitter and they're all amazing to work with!

This got... way more in depth than I planned for it to be, so sorry if this is way more than what you were asking lol. But that's my general process when it comes to my art 👍

[afewproblems]

sorry i’m still stuck on cheater eddie, just wondering how you think things would play out after that? like you said, I can’t see steve forgiving eddie after that but personally would love to see eddie realize how much he messed up

(Based on this post)

Oh, I think Eddie would know immediately that he screwed up. He did call the next day with some semblance of a plan to talk to Steve, to try and explain himself, apologize as best as he could.

Unfortunately the internet works just a bit faster than Eddie realized. It's a minor story on the entertainment channels, Corroded Coffin only recently became public figures again for the first time in ten years, but it's still looping every hour on the hour.

The band is upset, obviously; Gareth won't talk to him and Jeff follows Eddie with the stink eye wherever he goes. Grant lectures him for an hour before shaking his head and leaving the room, but he hasn't brought it up since.

Robin calls Eddie almost immediately and tears him a new one, he has to hold the phone away from his ear for most of it. It's harsh, she spews her vitriol and calls him a coward, that he couldn't have loved Steve as much as he claimed to if he went and stuck his dick in someone else.

He wants to argue the latter, but she hangs up on him before he can get the chance.

The home phone in Eddie and Steve's Chicago apartment rings and rings the first three times he calls before finally going directly to voicemail on the fourth.

The worst is Wayne though.

It's a day after Robin's call, he asks about the papers -there's a laugh in his voice as he does. Eddie had been no stranger to tabloid claims before, in fact Eddie kept the National Enquierer Bat Boy clipping and framed it, but there are quite a few articles this time.

All about the same photo.

So Wayne calls, with that gentle, confident, laugh in his voice because they've really done it this time.

"You see The Star Ed? Absolutely ridiculous. Have you kids talked to your agent about all these stories yet?"

"Wayne--"

"I mean this is just silly, I bet your boy found it hilarious!" The words crackle with static as Wayne laughs into the receiver, "is he there? It's spring break for him now right?"

Eddie clutches the phone in sweaty shaking fingers, his heart climbs up his throat as he tries to find his voice.

"Wayne, I," he swallows harshly and scrubs a ringed hand over his face, "I messed up".

There's a pause on the other end of the line, as though the call cut out, but Eddie can still hear his uncle breathing.

"Eddie, you didn't..." Wayne says softly, almost in a whisper, "tell me you didn't..."

"I don't know what to do," Eddie blurts out, his breathing picks up, "he won't talk to me, my band won't talk to me, I fucked up, I just don't know how to fix this".

Wayne sighs, Eddie can hear him pace around the kitchen, "son," he murmurs softly into the receiver, "just take a deep breath, and listen for a second".

Eddie nods, not caring that his uncle can't see him through the phone, he feels like he's sixteen again and waiting for the other shoe to drop when Wayne collects him from the police station for the very first time.

"I'm going to say this once, because I know I raised you better than this and you're probably feeling pretty lousy already," Wayne says slowly before clearing his throat, "if fixing this is just to make you feel better, then it ain't really fixing anything".

"Steve probably doesn't want to hear a thing you have to say right now and you have to give that to him--"

"Wayne--"

"I mean it Eddie, you and Steve went through so much together that I didn't think there was anything that could ruin it, and there you go proving me wrong".

The words are a punch to the gut that immediately bring tears to Eddies eyes. He holds his breath and bites his lip to stop the sob that threatens to wrench itself from his chest.

"I hope you had the decency to come clean," Wayne continues tiredly, he grunts as he sits down, most likely at their old mismatched kitchen table.

"I called him but..."

Wayne hums in understanding before blowing out the words, "well-shit-son," in a single breath.

They talk for a bit longer before Eddie asks Wayne to check on Steve for him, to make sure he's okay.

"If I know my son in-law he's the farthest thing from okay right now Ed, but I'll do my best," Wayne grumbles and Eddie winces, because he's right.

He hangs up with a soft goodbye, closes his eyes and crawls into the hotel room bed.

The thread count is high in the sheets, the fabric soft and rich between his fingers, but it's nothing compared to the well-worn cotton sheets at home. Sleepwarmed and bathed in gold morning light, he can almost feel Steve in his arms.

Eddie opens his eyes.

But he's alone and the bed is cold.

Eddie lays there, allowing himself to finally cry for the first time in days, staring at the empty spot beside him.

#cw infidelity #eddie munson #corroded coffin #eddie munson is not perfect #cheating #we love a protective and wise uncle wayne in this house #i hope this is okay anon! #eddie definitely realizes he screwed up #robin is always ready to throw hands for her platonic soulmate #will she do that in every fic i write? #yes

[thetorturedpoetsintern]

Narcissa in love - Narcissa x fem!reader

A couple of headcanons that guide me for my Narcissa fic. Am I gaslighting you to forget about the fact I have yet to post another chapter by posting this? Maybe. In the meantime, enjoy! 🤍

She's a cold person who's used to getting what she wants whenever she wants but that doesn't mean she is heartless. She creates a persona from all the rules she respected when growing up and none of them was about handling one's feelings

When she meets you the only things she notices are your imperfections and ways to improve them. It's not intentional, it's just her usual train of thought when meeting someone. But those intrigue her

 Usually she'd put them aside, she always does, but with you it's different. It's the way those brows were a little bit disheveled and how your lipstick smeared over the lip line after having a sip of the drink you held. How the clothes you wore had wrinkled from sitting down a long time and how your neck was stiff and affecting your posture

 She becomes captivated by all those things and starts to think for the first time about why. Why did your brows look like you've been sleeping recently, why didn't you notice the lipstick, why did you sit for so long and why are you hurting yourself with a bad posture?

She likes to start conversations and end conversations whenever she wants and that’s exactly the treatment you’ll get the first few times. But it seems she can’t quite get enough of your voice and begins to let you lead the conversation

Soon enough she starts to crave your presence. She’ll be right next to you to smell your perfume, paint her nails often for you to grab her hands and admire her manicure, whisper nonsense into your ear when you're in a crowded place just so she would make you smile and laugh

The mask of perfection slips and for the first time in her life she’s out in the open, with no protection against the world but you

She won’t admit it’s more than a very fond friendship, not even to herself, for a long time but when most tomorrows she makes plans for you two, she might start to see it. She fell in love with you

A confession would take even more time as she doesn’t want to scare you off. Every time she fantasizes about telling you about her feelings, her heart feels squeezed in an iron grip at the immediate thought of losing you.So she settles with the usual “I adore spending time with you”

She might begin to feel satisfied with just your presence and as the time goes by, she doesn’t feel the need to tell you anymore. She finds self sufficiency in the fact that you’re by her side and for the first time in a long while she is once again conforming to all the social norms of her world

Little does she know you’ve fallen for her too and seeing her going back to her cold hearted demeanor is the last and definitive reason to come clean in front of her

No matter how you decide to confess your feelings, Narcissa would be left speechless. She’d freeze then and overreact in the exact opposite way you would expect. She shuns you completely for the first time since she met you

But as time goes by and you’re not by her side, she’d start missing you. Everywhere she goes, everyone she sees, everything she hears somehow ends up being related to you. You’d be everywhere and nowhere at the same time

She’d look for ways to make up for rejecting you and even though you put her in a turmoil denying how the mere fact of Narcissa chasing you is making your heart leap to heaven, time brings you together once more

She loves to hold you until your breathing is even and deep and she can feel your muscles relax in her hold as your body succumbs to sleep

She loves to touch your skin with her hands and lips, to hear you sigh and moan and chant her name over and over as she pleasures you

She loves to make you smile and laugh and forget about the world outside of your little bubble

She loves you and as long as you do too, she won’t need anything else in order to live

#narcissa malfoy #narcissa black #narcissa black malfoy #narcissa malfoy x reader #narcissa malfoy fluff #narcissa malfoy headcanons

[watermelonsugacry]

GRAMMY CHAPTER YES PLEASE

The Grammys 2021

A/N: THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN sorry it took a hot minute to post but ty for all the love & support, yall are the best!! 💚

SUMMARY: Harry's first Grammys with his girlfriend 1dbandmember!yn. both nominated and both winners (3.5k)

WARNING: little anxious yn at the end

MASTERLIST

“So when you win, I think a kiss on the cheek is appropriate right? Plus, you have to take off your mask when you accept your Grammy, but don’t worry I’ll kiss your cheek through my mask, too. It’s like classy or whatever.” 

After performing and opening up the awards ceremony, the two have changed into their second outfits of the night, well third time for YN. 

Before having to go to their separate sections on stage, the couple gives each other a nervous hug.

“Scared?” YN asks him once they’ve pulled away.

“Terrified.”

“Good.” Harry gives her a double take. That certainly doesn’t make him feel any better. “Me too.”

With a quick, smiley kiss, the two fist bump before being escorted to their designated spots on stage.

YN would be lying to herself if she said that she wasn’t drooling at her boyfriend while he performs in his black, leather suit and green boa, his chest completely bare. The added fact that this song was about her and their private times together makes her even more feral for the man.

It’s also safe to say that Harry’s feral level rises above hers. How is he supposed to act when she’s wearing a beautiful ball gown singing about how loving he is to her and the next she’s making a quick change to reveal what one might call lingerie? Okay, maybe a mini pink, silk robe probably wasn’t considered to be lingerie but he literally goes crazy in anything she wears.

It doesn’t help that while she’s singing her song Juicy (*Doja Cat song, the clean version*) dancing around the stage with the rest of her dance crew, that she makes direct contact with her love: whenever she makes a certain swivel of her hips, slowly lowers herself to the floor or cheekily juts out her bum to him.

Now the couple and their managers sit at their designated table for Harry’s first upcoming nomination. To say that Harry was nervous was an understatement, but he does a really good job at hiding it. 

But it doesn’t go past YN. 

Knowing him for as long as she has, she knows what’s hiding under his cool demeanor, the mask certainly helps a bit. He’s a perfectionist, a people pleaser and, most importantly, a narcissist. She’s one too—as much as she’ll deny it—so she knows more than anyone that if tonight doesn’t go out as they hope, he’ll brush it off until they get back to their hotel room where she’ll have to coax out his suppressed emotions through lots of cuddles and kisses. Not that she’ll mind the method, she’s actually hoping to get snuggly with him regardless of the outcome.

And that’s not to say that she has any doubt in her mind that he won’t win, she’s quite the opposite, telling to him “when you win,” and “once you win,” throughout the night so far to get him from reverting back into his head.

Harry chuckles and his eyes squint above his mask. “Who knows if I’m even going to win, love.”

“You’re going to win.” YN says in a matter of fact tone, bringing her hand to where his fluffy purple boa rests against his neck. Her lace covered fingers fiddle with the feather-like texture. “Just remember to say ‘thank you’ in your speech. It’s polite.” 

Harry’s ring covered hand goes over hers and he brings them to his chest. His eyes connect with hers and she can feel his heart pounding beneath her hands.

“Thank you, YN.”

“None of that.” A line between Harry’s eyebrows appears and he tilts his head to the side in confusion as she goes against what she just said. “Save it for the speech.” 

The crows feet beside Harry’s eyes appear again as he smiles beneath his mask. With their hands still joined against his chest, Harry puts his other hand on the back of her chair and leans into her so his covered mouth aligns with her ear. She leans into his touch as well, unable to do anything but comply with the natural pull.

“If it wasn’t for these bloody masks, I would kiss you right now.”

“You can do that once they say that you’ve won.” 

They tease, knowing that since their romantic relationship has been exposed about three months ago, they’ve been keeping their public displays of affection at a very low minimum. 

“I love you, YN.” 

“I love you, Harry.” Now she really wishes she didn't tell him that he has to wait to kiss her.

Harry brings her laced covered knuckles to his covered mouth. She can barely feel the gentle kiss through the layers between them but it still manages to bring butterflies to her belly.

“Okay everyone, we’re on in ten!” 

As she goes to pull her hand from his, he keeps his grip and lowers their joined hands on his lap. She doesn't question him or give him a funny look. All she does is adjust herself so she's sitting properly upright in her seat again. YN intertwines their fingers together all the while the couple look towards the announcer coming on stage.

“And the Grammy goes to...” 

Both her and Harry keep their heads down. Harry focuses on the glass on the table in front of him as he tightly grips her hand. 

When she closes her eyes, a ripple of tingles run down her spine as she can faintly hear the envelope being opened by the presenter. 

“Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles!”

Harry unhooks the straps of his mask from behind his ears to reveal his bright, surprised smile. 

As he stands, Harry turns to his love first. Before her arms have fully extended outward to hug him, his thumb and index finger tug the top of her mask downward. Harry tightly grips the back of her neck, tilts her head up and plants his lips on hers. It all happens so fast and it makes her feel dizzy and giddy all at the same time. The heel of his palm digs into her side and her fingers cling to his purple boa.

When the snip bit of Watermelon Sugar begins to play after announcing Harry as the winner, YN finds it ironic that it’s the part where she pushed Harry, the team and her production skills the most. It’s the outro of the song, the part where Harry struggled with for almost a year with not being able to figure out what it needed. It wasn’t until their two month period in the studio was coming to an end that YN experimented and added the trumpets, shoved him into the recording booth and made him do so many harmonies it made his head spin.

It brings her an indescribable sense of pride to know that it all paid off in the end.

“Thank you so much. This is absolutely incredible. We wrote this record on my day off in Nashville. I just want to say a massive thank you to Tyler, Mitch and Tom. I want to thank my manager, Jeff, for nudging me and never pushing me. And I want to thank my girlfriend and co-producer, YN, who did push me.” The audience laughs. He looks to his love who has been constantly wiping off her tears of joy ever since he stepped onto the stage. “But in the best way. All of these songs are fucking massive so erm, just thank you so much.”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that YN teases him later for not only overexaggerating his ‘thank you’s, cursing in his first Grammy acceptance speech, but for almost forgetting to take his Grammy with him when he’s about to leave the stage. 

...

YN adjusts her long, black lace gloves as she comes into Harry’s dressing room with her manager in tow. When she enters the room, Mitch and Sarah are talking amongst themselves on a black leather couch.

“Hey there, baby momma.” The couple looks at her and Sarah lets out a whistle.

“Well don’t you look ravishing.” The drummer teases, twirling her finger around. “Give us a spin.” 

After doing so, YN goes over to Sarah’s extended arms and gives her a hug from her sitting position. “How’s my godson in there?” 

Mitch stands and gives her a kiss on the cheek before wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a quick hug.

“He was kicking quite a bit when we were performing. M’bit sore now.” She laughs as she rubs a hand over her belly. YN really can't believe that they're not only having a baby, but that they were able to keep it from the public eye until now. 

It's in moments like these where she imagines what her life would be like if she wasn't under the spotlight. Despite the sense of calmness she thinks it will bring, she also knows that she'll probably be miserable. Life without pursuing music? Traveling the world? Being supported by millions and millions of fans? Being with Harry? She'd never give any of that up for the world.

“He was just performin’ as well I reckon.”

A bunch of crew members and people from both her and Harry’s team go about their business around the room as they prepare things for the couple before they head back out to the ceremony room. 

It’s when the couple on the couch shift their gaze from her to someone behind her that makes her hyper-aware of the room. Even though they’re wearing masks, it’s easy to tell that Sarah has a big smile on her face by her eyes. 

“Wha’?” YN asks with a playful furrow of her eyebrows. She turns around to see Harry staring—no, gawking—at his girlfriend. His eyes go from the bottom of her red, satin dress, to its puffy sleeves, the tops of her chest to her breath-taking smile.

She’ll admit, the way he’s able to dress with such little effort but looks like a fashion icon both isn’t fair and mouth-watering at the same time.

When she approaches him, he’s shaking his head in disbelief, “How on earth did I ever get you? Hhm?"

"I ask myself the same question everyday. How did you get me?"

Harry snickers, a smirk tugging on his lips. "You're a brat."

"You love me."

"You know I do." 

Mitch makes a noise like he's going to vomit and Sarah slaps him on the arm. They all laugh before a crew member lets them know it's time to head out.

...

As the night progresses, YN wins her second Grammy of the night for Best Record of the Year for her song POV. And although her and Harry don’t win their next nominations, they’re still grateful to be there and are happy for the winners. 

But that doesn’t mean the night is completely over. YN is still up for one more nomination, one that she’s already set in her mind that she won’t get that one either.

Harry knows her like the back of his hand. Just like she did to him, he knows what she’s feeling inside despite her nonchalant exterior. And instead of making a big deal out of it and trying to comfort her, he embraces the cheeky side of him he knows she loves.

So throughout the time it takes before her category comes on, he’s constantly leaning into her ear and commenting on—poking fun at—other people’s outfits. Or making fun of the accent one of the announcers has when they present the next award. And repeatedly reminds her of how gorgeous she looks tonight...and possibly suggests some fun activities they can venture in after the ceremony.

There even comes a time during a commercial break when Harry sees the way YN is constantly fiddling with the end of his black boa—she’s been playing with all of them throughout the night—and he finally does something about it. When they’re facing each other, he unwraps the fluffy material from his neck and loops it over the back of hers.

“Looks nice on you.” Harry says with a smirk as he plays with the ends like she did.

“And y’surprised by that?” She pffts with a playful roll of her eyes.

He discreetly takes a hold of the two ends of the boa and tugs on them sharply, unexpectedly, making her lean forward in a quick motion. Underneath her mask, YN’s jaw is literally on the floor and they both break out laughing. 

She slaps his thigh. “You’re an arsehole.” 

“You love me.”

“You know I do.” She repeats his words from the dressing room with a loving smile. She can call him whatever she wants but he’s just happy to know that she’s relaxed. 

It’s good while it lasted because next thing they know, it’s announced that they’re going live again and her category is up next. YN gives his boa back and intertwines her hands with his. It’s still set in her mind that she won’t win, but as another video of the nominees plays on the screens on stage, there’s some hope that involuntarily creeps into her mind,

“And the Producer of the Year, non-classical, Grammy goes to...” YN presses the tip of her lace covered finger to the champagne glass in front of her. It makes her skin feel cold as she catches a falling drop of condensation from the top of the glass to her finger.

“YN YLN, Fine Line.” 

Her eyes widen and her chest quickly moves up and down when she looks up, seeing her name displayed on the big screens on stage. Everyone around her is on their feet, clapping and cheering. Harry puts a hand to her exposed shoulder, pulling her out of her shocked state.

She takes off her mask and Harry wraps his arms around the tops of her shoulders. He congratulates and professes his love for her over and over again against the shell of her ear. She pulls on the string of his mask and Harry reads her queue, quickly removing it and giving her a small but sweet peck on her plushy lips.

YN still doesn’t say anything as she hugs her manager and Jeff. When she makes her way to the stage, she doesn’t think twice about going over to Billie and Finneas’s table, giving him a quick hug as he was also nominated this year.

“Congratulations.” He tells her with a smile underneath his mask, laughing when she gives him a look of utter disbelief. 

It takes all of her mental strength to make sure she doesn’t trip over her heels in her wobbly legs as she walks up the steps of the stage. When she’s handed her Grammy, she takes another look at the screens behind her to make sure she actually won, that she isn’t dreaming. That she actually heard her name and isn’t making a fool out of herself.

“I really shouldn’t be standing here right now, accepting this award. Just to be nominated and considered to be among these amazing, talented producers,” She gestures towards Finneas who’s seated towards the front of the stage. “It blew my mind into another dimension, but this...” She looks down at the Grammy in her hands. “This is unreal.”

She puts a hand over her forehead and looks down, on the verge of tears. The audience members clap in encouragement and she can hear Harry’s sharp whistle over them. She looks up towards Harry and brings her lace cover hand to her cheek. He nods his head at her and continues to clap, motivating her to continue.

“I would first and foremost like to thank God, because without Him I wouldn’t be standing here and doing what I love. I want to thank Jacob Collier and Kid Harpoon for teaching me what I know and taking me under their wings. I am forever grateful. I would also like to thank Harry for bringing me on to work with him on his albums and trusting me to help make his vision come to life. Fine Line really pushed me to be better in this craft and as a person and I’m honored to be a part of it. This one's for all the female producers out there. Thank you so much.”

It’s not long after she goes backstage that a crew member comes up to Harry’s table, whispering something in Jeff’s ear. 

“It’s YN.” As soon as the words leave his manager’s mouth, both men are quickly up and out of their seats and head backstage. Harry practically bursts into their designated dressing room and his heart breaks when he sees his love sitting on the couch with her head in her hands. Jenny, her manager, sits next to her and rubs her back as it moves rapidly up and down. 

When YN hears the door open and looks up at him with her glossy eyes, he doesn’t think twice before crouching down in front of her. He gently puts his hands over her cheeks, whispering sweet nothings in the small space between them.

Hey baby, you did so good tonight.

Congratulations, lovie. You deserve it all.

Aw, my sweet girl. No more tears, yeah? Deep breaths for me.

By now, everyone has cleared the room and it's just the two of them. After a couple of minutes, her breathing has definitely evened out a lot more since he first came in. She gives him a sad smile and he can’t help but think that despite her current state, she’s as cute as ever with her nose all pink. 

When he rubs his thumb on the tops of her cheek, Harry has to keep from swooning as she snuggles deeper into his hand. He forgets how to breathe altogether when she looks at him with her doe eyes.

From all the years he’s known her, he’s only seen her have a panic attack a couple of times. He knows that she’s kept a lot of them to herself in the past but he made her promise him that whenever she feels her anxiety rise up like this again, she needs to call him and he’ll be there in a heartbeat. 

He doesn’t pressure her by asking what’s wrong. He’s learned that she’ll tell him when she’s ready.

YN places her hand on the one on her cheek and takes in a deep breath. “I know the Grammys can be a scam sometimes and m’really grateful to have the ones I do. And you know I don’t make a big deal out of these things but this one,” Her eyes start to get glossy again, flicking back and forth between his. “But this one is really fooking cool. And, and I j-just don’t d-deserve it.”

“Hey, none of that. Are you kiddin’ me?” He lifts her head so she’s facing him again. “You are the most talented, hard-working musician I have ever met. Aside from me, of course.” YN lets out a breathy laugh, sniffing and rubbing under her nose with a tissue Jenny gave her earlier. “YN YLN, you deserve everything good in life. Even when you think you don’t, m’right there beside you to remind you as many times as needed. You’ve come so far, baby. I’ve seen it more than you think and m’so grateful to have been a witness to that. You’re just...indescribable. You leave me speechless by just looking at you. Have to remind myself to breathe sometimes.”

“Ok now you’re just pushing it.” YN giggles.

“You’re the light of m’life. One might even say Golden.”

“Ugh, stop. M’gonna actually throw up.”

“Not to mention that you’re kinda taking away m’thunder. I just won m’first Grammy and this is what? You’re 20th?”

“21st actually.”

“Hmm, so selfish.” He teases with a smile, closing the space between them and pressing his lips to hers. 

“Can we go home now?” YN says against his lips, running her lace covered fingers through his hair, making no effort to pull away completely.

“Think we gotta take a couple photoshoot pictures first and then we can leave.” And Harry can’t wipe the smile off of his face when she lets out a whine. “It’ll be real quick.”

“Promise?” It’s a rare sight to see YN so baby-ish. He’s so used to his girl being so out-spoken, sarcastic and strong-headed that something stirs inside of him when she gets like this, and only for him.

“Promise.”

After calming down a bit more with some cuddles and re-touching up her make-up, they prepare to head back out.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” He really should be the one thanking her. For being here with him, for helping him with his music, for being his best friend, for being the love of his life—everything.

“None of tha’.” He says, bringing her hands to his chest for what seems like the hundredth time this night. “Save it for the speech.” He mimics her accent only to get a slap on the arm and a playful eye roll.

Yeah, this was definitely a night to remember.

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolkloreore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles grammys #famous!yn #famous!reader #since 2010 series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles and y/n #harry styles and reader

[belphiesreverie]

Build a Yandere results!

It’s finally done!! I apologise for the delay with posting this, but hopefully it was worth the wait! Thank you again to everyone who contributed to the event and I hope you enjoy the final result! 💕

As I mentioned in the original post, you can send in hc/scenario requests, ask the yandere direct questions, ask for drawings etc now that they are done! I really hope you enjoy interacting with them!

Yandere and info under the cut!

Introducing Nero!

General info!

Nero is 21 years old and his birthday is the 12th July

He stands at about 6’0 but often wears platforms which make him closer to 6’3

His dad is an executive in a mafia family and owns a large business to act as a coverup. Nero will be taking over for him eventually so he’s majoring in business

However, he’s also minoring in English Literature as he adores reading and writing poems and he wanted to become a writer himself at some point

Despite his intimidating demeanour, Nero is actually a massive hopeless romantic and you can’t really tell how… passionate he is if you ever get the chance to read one of his poems

Nero is often seen carrying around cigarettes, although he doesn’t actually smoke. There was a misunderstanding once where someone assumed he wanted a cigarette when he came over to them, and since then people have assumed that’s what he wants whenever he approaches someone

He has a younger sister whom he absolutely adores and would do anything to keep her happy. She loves painting his nails and playing with his hair so he keeps them both long for her

He’s also in charge of looking after her a lot so he’s getting close to househusband material. He’s amazing at cleaning and getting it done super fast, but cannot cook for the life of him. He’s trying his hardest to get better at it though

Nero has partial heterochromia in his left eye!

He has tattoo’s from his father’s mafia family on his back and right arm. He covers the one on his arm with bandages so he doesn’t look as unapproachable or scary, but the bandages make it looks like he gets in lots of fights so it’s slightly counter intuitive

He’s an ambivert. There are times where he has to be social and interact with lots of people, and he doesn’t mind too much. But he also loves to spend a lot of time cooped up in his house doing nothing

Not a hc, but a fun fact abt his design! The lip piercing he has is called an angel bite and he has pointy jewellery to mimic vampire teeth! This is bc the human votes won, but it was a super close call between him being an angel or a vampire if he was non human. Just a cute lil easter egg 💕

Yandere type!

Nero is obsessive first and foremost. When he falls for someone, he falls hard and all his thoughts and actions revolve around them

His poems go from being about the feeling of wanting to experience love and a relationship, to cryptic but heavily detailed confessions to the object of his desires

He’s also quite protective of them as well. He knows that because of his father’s line of work, he has a target on his back as well and that it is probably extended towards his darling, so he goes above and beyond in ‘protecting’ them. Even if they’re not aware that he’s made it his job to watch over them 24/7

His persistence comes about from the perceived lack of sincerity that his darling assumes he holds

No matter how many times he asks them out to a nice fancy restaurant, or a cute little picnic, or on a world famous cruise, or even just to go see a movie. He’s not very outwardly expressive so every invitation seems to hold a tinge of insincerity, no matter how genuine he’s trying to be

The constant rejections won’t stop him or deter him though. They usually go right over his head as he continues to follow his darling around for the rest of the day

Even if they don’t enjoy his presence, he’s still gonna be right there next to him as often as he can be. He likes being close to them and it helps keep the others away as well

If his darling willingly lets him hang around them though? Well he’s got this excited air around him the entire day, the positivity practically radiating off of him. Which is actually helpful, since just looking at his expression would make you think he’s regretting even asking

His darling’s friends are absolutely not invited to hang out though. Just having his darling acknowledge someone else is enough to set him over the edge, let alone if he hears them planning outings together or anything like that

He knows he doesn’t have the right to monopolise his darling’s time, but he just can’t help but want to keep them all to himself without any pests bothering them. What’s more romantic than being the only person in each other’s lives?

He views his darling way above him. Nero knows he’s by no stretch of the imagination a good person. Especially considering the ties to the mafia through his father. Compared to him, his darling is practically a saint that can do no wrong

———

Tags: @msshonaomi @chenyasfluffytail @theguyinthemathproblems @canniblewoerms @chaos-in-person @teu-anjo @thorndreamland @hotaru-no-yume @tink2kagome @dotster001 @raveartts @art-loving-demon @akira-time @loiszephyr @overlord-mil @kazeperiwinkle @24-7sleepy @bluecroissxnt @dinosolecito @echos-chamber @justsayhelloo666 @roxineedstosleep @aesonsgirl @myangelsred @dirtyspongesoften @moonblissss @sweetbasementkittens @hauntedpaperdoll @peach_bearies @ghostmybeloved @emptyheadedstalker @sadcl0wnhappym1me @shiningdoradiamond @miss-negativity @ickyimp @jmercedesd @derrendoesedits @yestrday @anaki-kuroshi @crying-pupper @hurricaneclaw @anima-yandere @starcrossed8 @peach-leech @delispantry @heavenlayt @lulu_theone @hayatxlife @kazusbby @nobaronni @katsumi0o @chiakiiyi @kupied @xycrow @3sryn_

#Nero Lovemail #Nero #oc: nero #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #male yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere oc #yanderecore #tw yandere

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 26

Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board!

Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

We. Are. Back!!

It's been almost six months!! 😶 Motivation comes and goes, but I'm very happy to be posting again. Like I said in a comment on Ao3, this book is too special to me to ever abandon. Thank you for your patience!! 💙

When Rick kicks the stool out from under Jim's feet, there's a simple crunch sound, and then he's dead.

I watch from afar as his body dangles from the rafters like a doll filled with sand, wondering why I thought it would be louder. It feels like I can breathe again. As if I've had a noose of my own wrapped around my throat until this very moment. Jim's dead. He ain't a threat. Just dead and dangling. Silence pours out across the farm. It feels strangely comforting; a hug from somebody you thought you didn't like.

I know Dale would disagree. I don't gotta ask to know he didn't want this.

If he weren't under six feet of dirt and bugs right now, I think I'd tell him I'm sorry.

Not just for Jim having to die, but also for being angry. He knew it never did nobody any good to be angry. If I hadn't told Carl to leave that muddy walker alone, wanting it to suffer and pay for some crime weren't even its fault, then maybe Dale would still be here.

I kinda realize in this moment that I don't care if dead people don't gotta see bad things. Because Dale ain't get to see the good things anymore, either. Like books and soup. Hugs, jokes. The baby, once it's born. Neither does Momma or Sophia or Shane.

It's like Jim said. I should be dead by now. On account of all laws of nature and chance, I should be long dead.

But obviously, I ain't.

And I'd be a stupid, silly, brainless little girl to not think that makes me at least a little bit lucky.

As I fiddle with the metal buckle of my overalls, Dad and Rick carry Jim outta the shed, their hands hooked around the dead man's armpits and ankles. Carol's probably thinking something like, He's with his loved ones now. But I ain't Carol, and I don't believe in heaven, so all I'm thinking is, I hope it didn't hurt. I've never had my neck snapped before, so I wouldn't know. They shuffle over to the pile of wood and walker bodies, tossing him on top, dusting their hands off on their pants. They's gonna burn him. No graves for them that ain't family.

Good. We have enough of those, anyway.

Dad and Rick turn away from the pile, their faces largely blank.

Before they can see me, I stand from my spot near the fence and scurry away, because I know I'm not meant to be watching.

That morning, everybody gets busy doing something. Whether it's bringing supplies into the house or cleaning a grimy rifle, nobody's twiddling they thumbs. There's something about putting work into a thing that needs it that clears the mind, I guess. Stops us from thinking about Jim, anyhow. Me, I help out by going around with a basket of fresh fruit, handing them out to anybody who wants some.

The first people I swing by are Rick and T. They've begun reinforcing the fences together, using old metal sheets and planks of wood to barricade any weak points they find. They gratefully take a juicy pear each, leaning against their handiwork to bite into the sweet flesh, groaning at the taste. Something nice happens in my chest when I see them smile. It's like looking at a puppy. You just can't be sad.

"Wow, this is good," T-Dog nods, turning the fruit over in his hand. "Thanks, Harley."

Rick doesn't say nothin', but I'm just glad to see him enjoying himself. Even for just a moment.

I head over to Patricia and Carol next, who are scrubbing at some laundry over by the trees. I earn myself two more smiles when they take a couple peaches, leaving them to their own devices and making my way through everyone else. Herschel, keeping Maggie company as she hangs up some wet clothes over a line in the sun. Jacqui and Lori, tidying up camp a bit, preparing lunch. Jimmy, polishing guns.

When I give a pear to Dad, who's fixing some of his crossbow bolts, he kisses my cheek as thanks.

And Beth. I don't forget her. She sits in the bay window of her bedroom, nibbling away at a green apple.

I know eating a good piece of fruit ain't never stopped nobody from wanting to kill themselves, but everything counts.

I've only got a peach, apple, and a pear left tumbling around in my basket when I approach Glenn and Andrea. They're stood around the hood of Dale's RV, frowning into the rubber tubes and gears like there's a jigsaw puzzle in there, muttering to each other.

"You gotta tap it three times," I think he's saying, pointing at something, "And—"

"— And give her a twist," Andrea sighs, throwing her hands up. "I know, I know."

Glenn notices me out the corner of his eye. He doesn't light up exactly, but the tension leaves his shoulders. "Oh. Hey, Harley."

"Hey." I give a little smile, holding out the basket. "Y'all want some fruit?"

"Ugh. Yes, please."

They each pick one out, leaving me with the apple. I toss the basket onto the nearby folding chair and bite into its waxy skin, the sugary juices leaking down my chin. It's sweet as candy. Well, from what I remember candy tastin' like, anyway. It's delicious.

Andrea seems to agree. "God. Remind me to always become stranded on a farm with an orchard."

Glenn bites a chunk out of his peach as he takes the screwdriver from the blonde, scooting around her to stand in front of the exposed engine. "Here. Let me have a go... Dale told me that in these old vehicles, the points get corroded."

I wipe my sticky chin, watching as he pokes around with the small tool.

Dale knew everything there was to know about this RV. Whenever it broke down, he didn't even need to check beneath the hood before he knew exactly what was wrong with it. Hell, even I've picked up on its quirks by now, and I know jack about vehicles. There's all sorts of screws and bolts and duck tape crammed into the poor thing's inner workings, but it just refuses to die. Like a stubborn old mule. 

A bit like Dale. No matter how many times ya put that old man down, he'd come back ten times stronger.

"I let him down," Glenn suddenly sighs, and it's easy to know who he's talking about.

I glance over his shoulder, through the front windshield. Dale's ridiculous amount of souvenir air fresheners still hang from the mirror. Oklahoma. Illinois. Missouri. Kansas. That ain't even half of 'em. We used to tease him about them, but he always just laughed us off and recited some philosophical quote from a dead guy about how memories feed the soul, or whatever.

Nobody ever understood it when he said stuff like that, but I still know we all miss it.

"He was proud of you," Andrea tells him; then me, "Both of you."

I sheepishly look away, picking at the stem of my apple. No, he weren't. But that's nice of her to say.

"That's easy for you to say." Glenn shakes his head. "You had his back."

She doesn't know what to say for a moment.

"Well... All I know is that there's no way he didn't know how much we all cared for him, even in the end. He was too smart for that."

I got no doubts about that. He knew everything. Knew everything about the RV, about poetry, about us. He was just one of them types of people. I only wish I hadn't argued with him that day, but I argue with Dad all the time, and he still loves me. So, can't all be bad.

Glenn pulls back from the engine with a resolute, "Welp... That should do it."

When Andrea climbs inside and twists the key into the ignition, I'm proven right. This old RV just refuses to die.

"Well done, Glenn," I smile over the noise of the engine. "You did it."

He turns to me with a smile of his own, looking proud of himself.

After that, he and Dad leave the farm to search for a hearing aid. 

Maggie hands them a list of houses they can try their luck in, and then we exchange the usual goodbye hugs and kisses before waving them off. There ain't no use in sitting around, wondering if they're going to get bitten and die because of me, so I leave to find something I can distract myself with instead. Luckily, Rick and T-Dog are more than happy to let me help them out with the fences.

If we're gonna get serious about staying here at the farm, we're gonna have to make some upgrades.

I obidiently tail them as they work, lugging around a bucket filled with rusty nails to pass to them.

"You know, Harley," Rick grunts as he hammers a scrap of metal to the wooden posts, "Carl still ain't stopped chewin' my ear off about all those things you taught him the other day. If I have to hear the word 'mushroom' one more time... I'll go crazy."

I pluck a nail from the pile and hand it to T-Dog.

Just to be annoying, I say, "Mushroom, mushroom, mushroom."

"Hey. Watch it." He scolds me, but not very well. He's smiling. "Anyway. You two ain't on good terms right now, are you?"

I raise a brow. "How'd ya know?"

"Well, I figured you'd be playin' with him right now if you were. And to be honest, he's been in a bit of a mood lately."

I huff a little, silently cursing Rick's parents for making him like this. "We squabbled. That's all."

He hums thoughtfully.

"Whenever I argued with my sisters," T-Dog tells us, "They'd start messin' with me. They'd hide my Xbox controller. Eat my snacks."

Rick chuckles. "They sound nice."

"Yeah, you could say that," He chuckles along with him. "A real pair of peaches."

"Well, Carl ain't done any of that," I suppose, adjusting the bucket in my grasp, "But he did call me a stupid baby."

Rick turns to look at me. "What?"

"He snitched on me about the shed and called me a stupid baby. Then I told him I hated his guts."

As I stand there, he fixes at me with a funny, What am I going to do with you?, sort of look, until he returns his attention to the work at hand. "Well, he was right to 'snitch' on you, but I'll have a talk with him when I can. It's not okay to name-call."

"I think it's 'cause he's gonna be a brother soon." I think aloud. "He said he's gotta protect me."

T-Dog argues, "You got all of us here to protect you. Boy's got nothing to stress about."

"I know. He just likes bein' somebody's keeper."

Hammering the last nail into the metal, Rick gives the thing a bit of a shake to test its strength, pleased to see it won't budge.

"Okay, I think this one's good." He decides. "Let's move onto the next one."

As we gradually make our way down the fence line, we continue chatting away about other useless things. The weather, future plans for the farm. Something we don't talk about, though, is the baby inside Lori's belly. I don't think Rick wants to think about it, let alone talk about it. He must be mulling over all the hundreds of things that could go wrong. As the leader, that's his special talent.

By the time we reach the area around the barn, I'm not listening to the conversation anymore. It's difficult to concentrate on making out their voices for such a long time, so I just tune myself out, absentmindedly gazing past the two of them, into the field.

That's when I notice something off about the burning pile.

It's still sitting there, a boring bunch of wood and junk, but the problem is I can't seem to spot Jim's body on it.

I know they didn't move it to some other place, and it's definitely not been lit on fire yet, so it can't be that.

When Rick holds out his hand for me to pass him another nail, I leave him hanging. He frowns down at me in concern; confusion. I think he says my name, but then he follows my gaze, followed suit by T-Dog. I can tell the exact moment they catch on.

"Okay," T-Dog levels with nobody in particular, holding up his hands, "That's creepy as shit."

"Stay here," Rick wearily tells us, before jogging away to investigate.

I don't need to be told twice. Clutching the bucket to my stomach like it's a teddy bear, I huddle closer to T, letting him step in front of me as if a chupacabra is gonna pop out from under the debris and gobble us all up. We watch Rick approach the burn pile, creeping up on it, concerned he might wake it up. He peeps this way and that, the hammer held tight in his grasp, ready to strike.

Was Jim bit, I find myself wondering, Was he bit, and we just didn't notice?

No. No, that can't be right. If he was bit, he would've turned long before we had the chance to hang him.

Rick flinches backward. He gawks at his own two feet. I think he might've crossed paths with a snake, or even that chupacabra, but then a hand shoots out from behind the burn pile and we learn the thing tryna bite him ain't an animal. It's got black hair and a grubby red shirt, a pair of milky eyeballs. It's Jim. He crawls after Rick like he's tryna avenge his own death, his neck still swollen and wrong.

Once he's absorbed his own shock, Rick brings the hammer down on Jim's skull, but he's fresh, so it's not mushy like it is usually. He has to bludgeon him two, three, four more times before the bone cracks open like an egg, wet brains dribbling down his face.

We all catch our breaths. I don't think any of us were prepared to watch Jim die twice today.

"Where was the bite?" T-Dog calls out, sounding like he's about to barf all over himself.

Rick kneels to check under Jim's shirt, flip him over, roll up his pant legs, because of course he does. There has to be a bite.

But when he stands, he calls back, "I can't see one."

There's a gaping pause between us all.

"Well, it ain't on his ass cheek, is it?"

Rick raises a brow as he steps over the body. "You wanna go check, be my guest."

"Nah, thank you, man." He answers drily, eyeing the blood dripping from the head of the hammer. "Well, what the Hell happened?"

Instead of telling us he doesn't know, or offering up a theory, Rick just sighs. He tosses the hammer into the little wagon we've been pulling along with us, rubbing at the faint wrinkles on his forehead. I remain hiding behind T-Dog. I know there's no snake or chupacabra to be heard of, and now, not even a Jim. But I don't like the danger in the air. The danger of something being wrong and not knowing what it is.

Rick lowers his hand, gaze landing on me. He keeps it there for a moment.

To be a walker, you gotta get bit. I can't see one. Everyone knows that.

"Come on," He eventually mutters, reaching to take the heavy bucket from me. "Let's get back to the house."

"Rick, what's wrong?" I whine as he grabs my hand. "We ain't workin' on the fence no more? Why?"

T-Dog snatches up the handle of the wagon and hurries after us.

"Don't worry about it, honey," He soothes, giving my fingers a squeeze. "The grownups will handle it, okay?"

Rick says this, just like he always has, but all he does when we get back to camp is eat lunch and talk to Maggie about our progress on the fence. I decide it's not a big deal. I trust him. Maybe he's just waiting until me and Carl aren't around to talk with the other adults about it. Maybe Jim did somehow get bit while he was in the shed. Maybe it really was on his ass cheek. I won't pretend to know.

In any case, I dig into my scrambled eggs and buttered bread without giving it much more thought.

After lunch, the three of us go back to working on the fence, anyway.

"Hope you enjoyed the apple."

With her forehead resting against the window, Beth gazes down at the farm, like some lonely angel peering down at another world. The afternoon sun gently contours the subtle curves of her girlish face, which isn't looking nearly as dreadfully pale as it did before.

"I did," She answers sweetly, smiling as I come to sit next to her on the thin cushions. "Thanks, by the way."

I give a shrug. "Yer sister says peach and pear season's just about up, so all we's got for a while is apples, anyway."

She surprises me by giggling at me, a pretty tinkling sound that suits her. "That shouldn't be a problem for you, right?"

My cheeks go warm. "Huh?"

"I saw you," She explains, a fondness in her eyes. "Chowin' down on that apple just before."

"When I was wit' Glenn and Andrea?"

She nods. "You were smiling. It was nice."

I contemplate calling her a stalker, but all that comes outta my mouth is an amused scoff, rolling my eyes and turning to look out the window. I understand why she likes it up here. I can see the whole farm. People milling about camp, chickens pecking at the ground. And off in the distance, the herd of black cows dotting the paddocks like little beetles, munching on bales of hay. And quiet. Precious quiet.

I glance at the distant treeline, thinking about the recent whispers of the horde. I brush it off quick as I can.

I steal a glance at Beth, instead.

That little smile is still pulling at her lips, a lively glint in the soft green of her eyes.

For some reason - mainly my talent for speaking without thinking - I ask her suddenly, "Do you still wanna die?"

She stiffens ever so slightly, and I only have a few short moments to feel awful about it before she meets my eyes.

"I just mean," I continue, wishing I ever knew the right thing to say. I think back to when Carl was in my exact position, asking nicely for me to not do what Beth did. He also threatened to smack me in the face, but I don't imagine that would go over too well with Beth. Neither would shouting at her like Dad. So, I just do something stupid, another one of my talents, and I improvise. "I been worried about you. Not, like, pity or nothin', but... I know how you feel. And after Dale... I realized that just 'cause people die, it don't mean I gotta die, too. It ain't a reason to wanna die. It's a reason to wanna live. 'Cause I'm just glad I ever knew Dale and Sophia and everyone else that died at all."

I feel encouraged by her glassy expression to keep talking. Not that I could stop myself if I tried.

"So that makes us lucky, y'know. Yer Momma's dead. My Momma's dead. But we loved 'em, and you can keep lovin' other people, but not if you're in a grave somewhere. Besides, it would just pass it on to them that would miss us. Not worth it, if ya ask me."

When I finish my word puke, she pins me with a tense, watery look that makes my insides cramp up.

"Maggie told me," She says, "That if I decided to keep living, that I'd find moments where I'd know I made the right decision."

She takes a deep breath, chuckling afterward.

"I think this is one of those moments," She decides.

"It is?"

I feel a weird sense of pride. I know me and my stupid apple and bad advice didn't singlehandedly solve anythin', but I was able to make her realize she don't got nothin' to regret by surviving her own mind, and that's more than enough for me.

I nod, trying not to smile, because this is supposed to be a serious moment. "Good. That's... good."

Her chuckles turn into laughter. "Why you so awkward all the darn time, Harley?"

Then I'm being wrapped up in a hug. I hate hugs. But this one ain't too terrible.

When we part, I ask her, "Are we friends?"

She seems to find that funny. "'Course."

"Well, my Dad and Glenn are gonna be gone for a few more hours," I tell her, "So, we should play something 'til then."

Beth warns me that she's seventeen years old, so she might not be able to play the same way me and Carl play, but that's okay. We don't have to play pretend or anything. We can do something she likes. Apparently, that's painting our nails. I have to try not to pull a face, but I guess I end up pulling one anyway, because she bursts into giggles and pulls me to my feet. I'm not the biggest fan of girly things. It's just not what I grew up with. I'm used to scuffing my nails while climbing trees and playing in the dirt, not painting them. But I'll give it a go.

"What's your favorite color?" She asks me, setting me down on her bed and rummaging through her desk.

"Yellow," I chirp.

"Actually," She lilts, pulling out a little bottle of yellow polish, squinting at the label. "It's Electric Spring Citrus."

I scoot over to make room for her on the bed, presenting my nails to her.

The afternoon slips away easily after that.

Nighttime paints over the orange sky.

Me and Beth have migrated downstairs by the time the sun has disappeared beneath the farm, lured in by the domestic commotion of dinner being prepared. It's soup again. I recognise the smell by now. While we wait to be served by Maggie and Patricia, the rest of us gather around the coffee table, ribbing each other as we break the rules of a card game Jacqui suggests. Carl keeps cheating by lying about what cards he has, but he's too dumb to realize he'll have to show them to us at some point. I laugh hysterically when he loses.

"You weren't listenin' to the rules, was ya?" I enjoy taunting him as he goes red. "Typical!"

He complains, "Shut up, Harley!"

"Okay, okay," Lori placates, doing a very bad job of hiding her smile behind her fan of cards. "Settle down."

I almost don't think about Dad and Glenn or Dale or Sophia or Shane or Momma for the whole game. By my standards, that makes for a good time. Carl continues losing miserably, whining even more miserably-er, while Jacqui beats us over and over again.

I'm reminded of the night we had our first dinner together - The one where Patricia made everyone feel super uncomfortable, and then I almost died. It's hard to believe this is the same house and the same people. Probably because it's filled with laughter.

We continue playing even through dinner.

When I lose for the fifth time, I take my bowl of soup and retire to one of the sofas, settling in next to Rick and quietly sipping at the warm broth. He sends me a bit of a look as if to ask me if I'm okay, probably reading my face in that weird way he got, noticing I'm thinking about Dad and Glenn. I reply with a simple nod. He doesn't seem satisfied with that response, but he can't do nothin' about it.

It's too noisy in here for him to talk to me, and neither of us know a single lick of sign language.

So, he just gives me a thumbs up and hopes it gets the point across. They'll be okay.

Eventually, even Herschel gets roped into playing.

"Hey, I actually happen to know a thing or two about this," He tells us, before proceeding to eviscerate Jacqui at her own game.

We all go awww, as she throws down her cards.

"Darn..." She sighs. "You weren't lyin', old man."

"As Jesus as my witness," He holds up a hand, "I never lie."

Lori asks, "Where'd you learn to get this good?"

"I used to spend a lot of my time in bars, young lady." He explains. "I got more than enough practice finessing card games."

"Well, I'd say it paid off."

He raises his fluffy white brows. "They used to call me Great-Hand Greene back in the day, you know."

Everybody in the room can't help but laugh.

"Now, Daddy," Maggie exclaims, "That's a lie!"

Great-Hand Greene calmly enlightens her, "It surely isn't."

This is the moment headlights turn into the driveway. Everyone turns to look. My heart squeezes. Dad and Glenn. The two lights come to a sudden stop, watching us like two eyeballs through the dark. The sound of doors slamming. I place my bowl on the coffee table and hurry out of the lounge room, followed by some other footsteps. But when I reach the foyer, the door bursts open without my doing.

Dad first, then Glenn. Both of my lungs deflating in relief, and then both of them knotting right back up again.

"That horde's headed this way," Dad wastes no time in announcing, "And it ain't stopping for nothin'."

Everybody freezes. A horde? The horde? Headed our way? Right now?

Rick pushes past everyone. "You saw it?"

"Trust me, man." He jokes dryly, shaking his head. "You can't miss this thing anymore."

"There were hundreds of them," Glenn agrees, frantic. His hair is suckered to his forehead with sweat, even though the season's turned. "We were over by Mallory Road when we caught wind of them; got us stuck for a couple hours until we could slip past."

"Not that it matters now," Dad snides.

Maggie asks, "Were you able to get the hearin' aid?"

He gives a nod, but nobody's paying attention. "Bits and pieces."

"Patricia," Herschel orders, our card game long forgotten, "Kill the lights."

We follow Rick out onto the porch. The night welcomes us with a cold gust of wind. At first, I can't see much of anythin', but then the lights blink out one by one and my stomach drops into the floorboards. On the other side of the field, leaking out from between the trees, are bodies, bodies, and bodies, so many it's not worth trying to count. They make the group on the highway look like a couple of stragglers.

As the mass amount feet stumble up the driveway, I'm hit with the feeling that our fences aren't going save us.

"I'll get the guns." Andrea mutters, and I think that feeling has hit everyone else, too.

Rick runs off in the direction of the cars. It's where we've kept our bags of emergency supplies for a time like this. Does that mean we're gonna leave? Or are we gonna fight? Is it even possible? I didn't even get to finish my soup. That feels important, somehow.

"Maybe they're just passing." Somebody stupidly guesses. "Like that herd on the highway."

"Should we go back inside?"

"Not unless there's a tunnel downstairs I don't know about." Dad drawls, gazing out. "Horde this size will rip the house down."

I worry up at him, "Daddy, I don't want it to rip the house down."

He shushes me, putting a strong hand on the nape of my neck, squeezing reassuringly. I let it calm me. I feel a fool for panicking, but if there were ever a time to panic, it would be now. I cling to him as Andrea dumps the bag of guns on the floor. She passes them out to everyone that got two thumbs and a brain. Maggie, Glenn, Dad, Rick. Jimmy. Even Herschel. Nobody is being left out of this fight.

Not even me and Carl. A gun is pushed each of our hands. You know how to use it, I remind myself.

"This the plan, then?" Dad confirms with everyone, because it's crazy. "We take 'em all on?"

Andrea passes me a loaded mag. I don't have to count the bullets inside to know it's not enough.

"We have guns. We have cars."

"We kill as many as we can." She's on board. "We'll use the cars to lead the rest of them off the farm."

"The burn pile," Glenn adds, "There's a bunch of kerosine and matches down there. We could lure them into the barn, set it on fire."

Rick climbs back onto the porch. "Bags are all packed. If things start to get hairy, we can leave."

"We're not leaving." Herschel argues.

"Herschel—"

"This is my farm." His voice booms as he pumps a pair of fat bullets into his shotgun's chamber, fire in his eyes. "I'll die here."

"Alright." Dad lilts over the droning rumble of death incoming, looking around for objections. "It's as good a night as any."

I get herded into Maggie's car. Dad gives my face a kiss and slams the door shut. I bump the mag up into the chamber. I know how to use it. I do. Two more slams. Glenn at the wheel, Maggie in the passenger seat. I've shot two walkers before, when I was out in the woods with Shane. I just have to do it again. And after that, again and again until they're all gone. Glenn stomps on the gas. The car screeches forward, ripping through the grass, barrelling into the night. I don't even bother buckling myself in. That's not how I would die tonight.

"You got enough ammo back there, honey?" Maggie fusses, digging through the glovebox and throwing me a spare.

"Thanks." I catch the cardboard box, trying not to shiver as Glenn rolls down all the windows. Groans and wind flood the car.

He shouts, "Start shooting!"

Just like that, gunshots erupt from all possible angles.

I grip my pistol tight, aim it out the window. You're gonna hold it like this, Shane's voice tells me, Firm. Confident. You're the one in control, here. I'm in control. My home's bein' invaded by the dead, and a horde this size might rip the house down, but I'm in control. The car spins. I lurch. It's hard to aim like this, but I gotta try. I line my eye up with the wobbling sight. I breathe in and out.

I squeeze. BANG. 

I can't even tell what I hit, or if I hit anything at all, but it don't matter. I squeeze again. BANG.

Glenn weaves us in and out, around, through the horde, never getting too close, never veering too far.

In the other car, T-Dog, Andrea, and Carl. They swerve around us, shooting down every dead bastard they can hit.

I squeeze. BANG.

BANG, and again, BANG, and again, BANG.

The jaw of a nearby walker explodes off its meaty hinges. It swings around. It trips. It slumps. I've killed it.

"How we doing back there, Harley?" Glenn calls out. "You okay?"

"I— I'm fine!" I shout back, pulling my body back into my seat to reload.

I peel open the box of ammo. A curse falls from my tongue when the little bullets go tumbling onto my feet, rolling under the seats. I quickly snatch them up, shoving them into the mag. On the other side of the car door, fireworks of gunpowder and bullets, squealing tires and breaking bones, a blazing Hellfire lighting up the sky. Orange and roaring. I notice it, then. Dad. Rick. That must be them. They've set the barn on fire. It's cracking and falling to pieces, a burning church. The walkers fight to get inside like it's the last Sunday on Earth.

An important beam succumbs to the flames, snapping in half like a broken twig, bringing the rest down with it.

I hear wood breaking, and then there are chickens running lose across the field, screaming, flapping.

I squeeze and I squeeze and I squeeze. BANG.

A rotten old man crumples to the ground. BANG.

A lady's shoulder bursts open, a pop of bone and muscle. BANG.

A girl with one of the poor birds in her mouth, choking on feathers, dead. BANG.

For every one we kill, five more are there within a heartbeat to replace it. Glenn's foot falters on the pedal, and we come to a crawl, and then a stop, unable to do much but watch as the farm is consumed. This is a losing battle. There's no other type.

Herschel said we weren't leaving tonight, but that can't be true. I guess he is a liar, after all.

"We gotta go," Maggie's shaking her head, the tears in her eyes collecting like little pearls. "We're not gonna win this. We gotta go."

As if only to prove her point, the barn collapses once and for all. I almost feel like crying.

"I'm sorry, Maggie." Glenn says weakly.

Yeah. Me, too. I gaze out at the oak tree, still standing bravely; the little wooden crosses clueless beneath it.

As Glenn drives us back into the chaos, my pistol stays in my lap. I don't got any bullets left, anyway. I just sit there, watching everything pan by. Mine and Dad's camping spot, tucked away in the distant trees, just how we liked it. The crumbled fireplace where I talked to Dale for the last time. The shed. The swing outside it me and Carl used to play on. The orchard. The patch of dirt where Sophia died.

I wish I had the power to know when things were gonna end. That way, I could've savoured my last day.

It's not as cool as the superpower's them people in Carl's comics got, but it's the one I'd want.

It was silly. Working on the fences today with Rick and T-Dog made me think we were gonna be okay.

When I look up, we're approaching the house. Jacqui's sitting on the porch steps all by herself, staring out at us.

Glenn pulls us in close, getting out and hovering around the hood of the car, waving her over. "Come on! We gotta go!"

I crawl across the seats and shove open the door. "Jacqui? Come on!"

She's not coming. Why is she not coming? The door is open. We can all leave together. When I call out her name again, she convulses ever so slightly, as if she's got a bad cough but doesn't wanna let it out. I feel my face fall all at once. Her arm gives out, slumping from her neck, into her lap. I notice the blood first, all ten gallons of it, and then the bite. Her muscles spasm again. Oh. No, no, no.

"Jacqui?" I call out uselessly, but Glenn's already back in the driver's seat and Jacqui's already dying.

"C-Close your door, Harley," He orders, slamming his own.

She's dying. We can't stay here. I know both these things, but it still takes everything in me to pull the door shut.

After that, the deaths just keep coming. We drive past Patricia as the horde pull her into their mouths, Jimmy as he stumbles from the RV, clutching at his open throat. There's nothing we can do for any of them, but we manage to reach Carol just in time. She climbs into the seat next to me, and we ask her if she's seen anybody else, but she hasn't; she hasn't seen anybody.

Turning my face to the open window, I let the wind dry my tears, seein' as my Daddy ain't here to do it for me.

The faces of the horde pass by, a sea of rats on a burning ship.

I want to go collect my things. I want to pet the cows one last time. I want to do everything we won't get to.

My body lurches all on its own, then.

A face in the crowd. It's different from the rest. I'm not good with faces or names, something my teachers used to grumble over, but I'm good with this one. That one walker, tucked in with the rest of them, wearing the Police cap. It's Shane Walsh, dead and walking.

How? How is that possible? Why are the tears back tenfold, now?

Lit by the moon and the flames, I see his broken cheekbones for the first time since that day, the way they're bulbous like apples, mishappen like clay. Everything about him is wrong. His nose is broke. Clothes all mussed up. Ribs pouring. His eyes are glossed over. He don't seem to mind his broken body, or the fire, or the smoke. He just wants what all other walkers want. To bite into something. It's him, but not.

I almost want him to look at me. I clutch my locket, wanting our eyes to meet just to make him prove it.

This just can't be true. He didn't get bit. He got shot and beaten, but he didn't get bit.

As if I've willed him to do it, he looks my way.

"Carol," I croak, watching as he noses at the air like the animal Dad always said he was, "You got any bullets left?"

I feel something being placed in my hand. It feels just like the locket, but colder. I shakily load it into the chamber; lift the gun. I believe in you, His voice is back. Now line your eye up with the sight. I stare down the barrel, carefully placing his face on top of the sights. I only have this one bullet. I can't miss. Not only because I need to put him down, but because I think I want to make him proud.

Breathe, I take a deep breath, In and out. 

Damn it. These fuckin' tears, they're messing up my aim. I smack them away and line up my shot again.

And squeeze.

BANG.

All the air rushes outta my lungs as his body hits the ground, disappearing amongst the horde.

I lower the gun.

Carol's already looking at me before I glance her way.

When we peel onto the highway, I can still see the flames burning over the tops of the trees, like some old religious painting.

Maggie breaks the silence. "What if nobody else made it?"

Nobody answers. I preferred it when the only noise in the car was the gentle humming of the engine, but I can't blame her for asking. We got no idea who else made it out alive. The four of us are all alone out here. Ain't no phone number we can just dial to ask if they're alright.

"They made it," Glenn eventually just decides, staring out at his high beams on the dark road. "They had to."

"Well, how are we going to find them?" Carol asks innocently, petting my hair as I lay my head in her lap. "They could be anywhere."

Maggie sighs. "We could circle back to that place I found y'all on the highway?"

"No," Mumbles Glenn. I can see his finger tapping against the wheel. "No, the horde came from that direction."

That's where our ideas run dry.

"Glenn?" I whine, clutching at my temple. He glances at me in the mirror, concern in his eyes. "My head. The ringing. Hurts."

He makes a troubled sound. "It must've been all those gunshots... I'm sorry."

Carol suggests, "Maybe we should just stop somewhere for the night."

There's a pause between them, but it's a short one, because it doesn't take much for Glenn to agree. He's musing to himself about how we can't drive all night. It would be a better use of gas to drive in the daylight. But really, we all know it's because he's a big softie.

He pulls us into a little nook on the side of the highway, killing the engine and turning on the ceiling light.

"I'm sorry," He says again, as if he put the ringing inside my head himself. "Maybe there's something in the supplies?"

Maggie unzippers the bag at her feet, pushing around the stuff inside it, shaking her head. "Just some water. Thirsty?"

I shake my head.

"I think we should all get some sleep." Says Carol, her voice a whisper.

Yeah. A good sleep sounds really good right about now. I think we've earnt it. Georgia will still be here when we wake up.

"Okay." He reaches up to press the ceiling button that turns on the moon, its dim white light spilling across the console in the dark. We all loosen slightly, completely exhausted. "We can just pick up again tomorrow. I'm sure the others are doing the same thing."

"Goodnight," Maggie tries to smile, reaching around her seat to stroke my shoulder.

"Goodnight," I mumble, echoed by Glenn and Carol, and then it's silent.

I close my eyes.

No eggs and buttered bread for breakfast today. Just a stale granola bar I gotta split with Carol, and a sip of water I gotta split with all three of them. After we take turns peein' in the bushes outside, we're back on the road again, and we're on it all day.

I don't know where we're going. I don't think Glenn knows, either.

I'm starting to think we might be driving all night, too, by the time we run into the others. That's right, the others. Herschel's shitty old pick-up truck is parked in a swath of brown leaves on the side of the road, right next to Dad's motorcycle and another grey car.

When Glenn pulls on the brake, I think we're all crying happy tears, but I'm too busy crying happy tears to notice.

I climb out, grinning, running into my Dad's arms.

"Harley," He sighs in relief as he picks me up, squeezes me tight. "I knew they'd take good care of ya."

"I knew you'd take good care of you," I giggle, hooking my chin over his shoulder.

"How did you guys find each other?" Glenn marvels.

"Well, when I saw their little Toyota goin' the speed limit," He nods behind him, "Figured there just had to be a cop at the wheel."

As chuckles break out between the group, he places me back on the ground.

Maggie asks, "Where's the rest of us?"

"We're the only ones that made it so far," Rick answers, and it's now I notice just how much smaller we are now; barely ten. We're just as alone as we were when it was just me, Glenn, Maggie, and Carol. No shelter, no food, no direction. Feathers in the wind.

"Where's Andrea?"

Lori shakes her head. "She was with us at the farm, but we got separated."

"Did you see Jacqui?"

Jacqui. Poor Jacqui. Maggie, Glenn, and I share a look without even meaning to.

"It was awful, Dad," I mutter, the memory caught in my throat, "We found 'er by the house, but we had to leave her behind."

Glenn explains, "She was bit."

"They got Patricia, too." Beth says. "Took her right in front of me. I was holdin' onto her, Daddy, but they just..."

"We saw Jimmy, too." Maggie sighs as Herschel wraps her little sister in a hug. "He was in the RV. It got overrun."

"But, you guys definitely saw Andrea?"

"There— There were walkers everywhere," Lori seems sorry to say, "But, yeah. We saw her."

"Well, we have to go back for her."

Rick argues, "We don't even know if she's still there."

"She ain't." Dad butts in. "She's either somewhere else or she's dead."

"So, we're not even gonna look for her?"

"No. We gotta keep moving." Rick agrees. "There's walkers all over the place."

Maggie scoffs, "That's an understatement if I ever heard one."

"I say we head East." Dad suggests, pointing vaguely in the direction of the sinking sun, cresting through the fog. "Head East, and stay off any main roads like this one. Bigger the road, the more walkers we gon' run into. The more assholes like this one."

He lifts his hands from where he's been resting them on my back, swinging the crossbow off his shoulder.

"I got him." He grumbles, sending a bolt through the stray walker's nose.

"Well, I hate to tell you guys," T-Dog scratches at his head, "But we been riding red for the past hour."

"We can't all fit into two cars."

Rick decides, "We'll have to make a run for some gas in the morning."

"Spend the night here?" Beth hisses, shivering lightly. "I'm freezin'."

"We'll build a fire." He gestures at my Dad. "You can go out lookin' for firewood, but stay close."

He raises a greasy brow. "I only got so many arrows, man. We can't just sit here with our asses hangin' out."

"Watch your mouth," He snips.

Glenn raises his hands at the group. "Everyone just stop panicking, and listen to Rick."

"Look, Glenn and I can go make a run right now," Maggie placates, "Try and scrounge up some gas so we can get back on the road."

"No." He shuts her down. "We stay together. God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car."

That other side of Rick is back - Someone I might as well start callin' Second Rick; Scary Rick - and everyone can tell. It's the same one that was outside the shed, telling us with no room for argument that he was going to execute Jim. He's tense. He's a rubber band pulled tight, his eyes darting from face to face, just waiting for a flash of disagreement from somebody for him to pounce on.

I make sure he don't find one on my face. I'm not keen on upsettin' him.

Glenn's a little braver than me, though, because he says incredulously, "Rick, we're stranded now."

He shakes his head. Not listening. Not accepting it. Just, No, no, no. 

"I know it looks bad," He reasons, even though we don't need to be told. "We've all been through Hell and worse. But we found each other. I wasn't sure. I really wasn't, but..." He scans our faces again, a little less coldly this time, taking us all in. "But we did it. We're together, and that's all that matters. We'll find shelter someplace. It's gotta be out there somewhere. It's gotta be."

But we had shelter already, I feel like shouting at him, I don't want another one.

"Rick, look around, okay?" Glenn's voice raises. "There's walkers everywhere. They're— They're migrating or something."

"There's gotta be a place not just where we hole up," Rick doubles down without care for what he's saying, smacking his knuckles into his palm. "But that we can fortify. Hunker down. Pull something together for ourselves. Build a life for each other."

That's what we tried to do at the farm. He should know that. He was the one fixing the fences with me.

"I know it's out there," He says angrily, as if that place he's talkin' about is hiding just to spite him. "We just have to find it."

I muster up the courage to voice my thoughts.

"But, Rick," I say, "How many those places we already been?"

He shakes his head again. "We fooled ourselves into thinking they were safe. We won't make that mistake again."

At the quarry, our mistake was being too close to the city. That was way back in the beginning when nobody had died yet, and we thought we just had to wait it out until the army came. But they didn't. And after that, our second mistake was trusting Jenner. We wanted answers, but we almost lost everything trying to get 'em. Then, the farm. I guess that was a mistake, too, now. You never know 'til after.

I don't say anything to that. It's cold, and I'm hungry, and I don't want to argue any more.

He's pleased with my silence. "Okay... We make camp tonight here; get back on the road at the break of day."

Carol murmurs something.

Whatever it was, Beth agrees with her. "What if walkers come through, or another group like Jim's?"

"Speaking of Jim," T-Dog fixes Rick with a look. "We ever gonna talk about him?"

Lori's confused. "What do you mean? What could possibly be left to talk about?"

"We saw him turn," He's happy to reveal to everyone. "Thing is, though, he wasn't bit."

"How is that possible?"

"Shane, too." I blurt. "I— I saw him when the farm went down."

Lori turns her gawking expression onto her husband. "What the Hell is going on?"

He's not looking at any of us. He's glaring at some ordinary pebble on the ground, brooding, hesitating.

Then, "We're all infected."

What?

It's so vague and profound that nobody knows what to make of it.

My Dad does us all a favor and squints at him. "How you mean?"

"At the CDC," He confesses, his voice a hoarse whisper that I can only just make out, "Jenner told me. Whatever it is, we all carry it."

We all carry—? The germs that make the dead ones come back? We all carry them?

He's been lyin' to us this whole time. The CDC, that was months ago.

Sometimes, lying ain't just sayin' something. It's not sayin' something. Daddy taught me that the night I told him I'd had a good day at school, and then come dinnertime, I let it slip that Ethan, the boy that sat behind me in class, had actually punched me in the belly that day at lunch. He got so mad. He ripped off my shirt. There was a purple blotch on my pale skin. Then he taught me how to punch boys back.

That's what Rick's done. He's hidden a purple blotch from us, and now we should be angry.

Carol steps forward, her silver brows pinched. "And you never said anything?"

I consider my body. I don't feel sick. Not like I did when we thought I was bitten.

Rick lamely asks, "Would it have made a difference?"

Yes, I think, but he already knows that.

Glenn accuses him, "You knew. You knew this whole time."

So, that's why Jim and Shane woke back up. You don't gotta get bit. You just gotta die and come back with enough to be able to bite.

That means even if you jumped off a bridge and all your bones were broken and you died, you would still come back.

My—

My Momma would'a still come back.

"How could I have known for sure, huh? Until we found Jim, I had no proof Jenner was even tellin' the truth. You saw how crazy that mother f—"

Glenn cuts him off. "That is not your call. Okay?"

"When Daryl found out about the walkers in the barn," Lori adds, "He told everyone as soon as he had the chance."

Rick don't care. "Well... I thought it best if people didn't know."

Glenn and Dad look right at me. Like they've both thought the same thing I have. They're the only ones here that know what happened to my Momma. I remember telling Glenn about it at the CDC. Momma. We were outta the city when it happened. It was the night the world ended twice. First when we got the call, and again when our neighbours tried to eat us. It's a lot of people's worst ever night. It's mine.

I won't ever know for sure, but I'd be kidding myself if I thought the rules didn't apply to my Momma.

At least we know that if any of us were to die, the others would make sure we didn't turn. Survivor's honor, or whatever it's called.

The silence goes on for so long that he just gives us one last look over, turns, and walks away. Nobody cares where.

Dad crouches; looks up at me. "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah," My voice wobbles, but I'm telling the truth. "I just... Don't wanna think about it."

Glenn clears his throat. "Well, it looks like we don't have much of a choice about this. We need to set up camp."

As everyone slowly breaks off to do their part, Dad takes my hand and leads me over to his motorcycle. "Got somethin' for ya."

Oh, right. The hearing aid; bits and pieces.

I'd almost forgotten.

"I hope it ain't complicated," I tell him, fiddling with my craggled ear. "Maggie said Herschel don't know about this stuff."

"We'll figure it out." He promises, before squeezing my hand and letting it go. "I ain't even sure if they work."

He opens the saddlebag, taking out a wrinkled plastic bag. He reaches in and pulls out what looks like an unusually shaped piece of skin-colored plastic with a rubber bulb on the end. And two other hearing aids, one brown and one purple, the type I'd recognise.

He stuffs the bag away and tucks some hair behind my good ear, making room to stick the first one in.

"I think it goes like that." He leans in closer, messing around with something on the back of it. "How do I—...?"

Something clicks.

All of a sudden, there are birds in the trees.

My eyes go wide, jaw dropping, gawking out at the forest like I've never seen one before.

A grin sneaks its way onto my face.

"The birds," I muse quietly, taking in the sounds of their distant chirps. "I can hear 'em, Dad."

It's not perfect. It's not as crisp as it was before. I think the batteries are low. But I don't care. It's still one of my favorite sounds.

He's smiling faintly up at me. "Good."

"Dad, your voice!"

"My voice?"

"I forgot what it's s'posed to sound like," I giggle. "It's so loud. And annoying."

He snorts, giving my butt a smack for being silly. "Well now when ya tire of my naggin', you can just pull that thing out."

As quickly as it had come to life, it makes a crackling noise, a sudden beep, and then there are no more birds.

I pluck the aid out my ear, giving it a bittersweet look. It didn't last forever, but it was nice while it did.

He mumbles something; then, louder, "We'll find some more batteries soon. Sorry, baby."

"Don't be sorry." I say. "It was perfect."

After packing them back into the saddlebag, we leave to collect firewood together. I imagine the sounds of the birds around us.

Night comes. We can't stop it.

I pretend we're camping.

We're not stranded. No, we just decided to go on a camping trip together because we thought it would be fun. That's why we're all huddled around a campfire in the dark, instead of sleeping in our beds at the farm. I'm curled up against Dad's stomach, which is better than a bed, I think. Beth's cuddled into her Dad's side, too, staring into the flames while Maggie and Glenn whisper to each other beside them.

I wish we had a deck of cards. I wish any of us would wanna play.

We got nothing but a wall of stone to protect us from the forest on the other side, but I pretend that away, too.

I just focus on the sound of an owl hooting somewhere off in the trees. I bet it ain't scared. Owls; they know the night.

Tomorrow, we're gonna have cheap steak and ketchup for breakfast, and then Merle's gonna let me sit on his shoulders just like always.

"We're not safe with him," Carol suddenly mutters, and that's not something I can pretend away. I'm back here, now, and we're stranded. No steak. No ketchup. No Merle. "Keeping something like that from us. Why do we need him? He's just gonna pull us all down."

Maybe I don't wanna be camping, anyway. It's good enough right here, surrounded by the people I care about.

"Nah." Dad's voice is a rumble in my lower back. "Rick's done alright by me and mine."

I cuddle further into him, shuddering lightly as he rubs my cold arms. His leather vest don't make a great blanket.

"You're his henchman." She reminds him. "And I'm a burden."

He scoffs. "And Harley?"

"You both deserve better," She says softly, her face pensive in the orange light.

It don't matter what we deserve, I told Shane when he said the same thing.

Unamused, Dad pries, "What do you want?"

"A man of honor."

"Rick has honor."

They leave it at that. I think they wish we had a deck of cards, too.

The owl hoots again.

Then, a branch breaks.

CRACK.

I straighten.

"What was that?" Beth murmurs worriedly. "Was it a walker?"

We all stare off into the dark, ready to fight whatever might come out of it.

"Could be anythin'," Dad mumbles as he stands, readying his bow. "Could be a racoon. Could be a possum. Could be the Easter bunny."

Carol hugs herself. "We need to leave. I mean, what are we waiting for?"

"Which way?" Glenn asks.

Maggie points at the thin trees behind T-Dog. "It came from over there."

"That's back from where we came."

"Yeah."

"The last thing we need is for everyone to be running off in the dark." Rick scolds us, reminding us he's here. The light from the fire washes him in flame, the dried blood on his forehead glistening with sweat. "We don't have the vehicles. No one's travelling on foot."

"Don't panic," Herschel soothes us all calmly, still clutching his shotgun.

Maggie argues, "I'm— I'm not sittin' here, waitin' for another herd to blow through. We need to move. Now."

"No one is goin' anywhere," Rick snarls.

"Do something!"

"I am doin' somethin'!" He retorts. If he really was that rubber band, this is the part where he would snap in two. "I am keepin' this group together. Alive! I've been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn't ask for this. I shot my best friend for you people, for Christ's sakes! For you Daryl, and you, Harley. I was the one that took care of Jim. Me! Everything! Everything has been on me!"

I know I said we were supposed to be angry with him. But, actually, I think we're just scared.

Lori's holding Carl's head to her chest. Dad stands in front of me, as if he doesn't want me to see. T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie; all with their mouths sealed shut, not sure where to look, or what to say. Is this really the same Rick that comforted me at dinner?

"Maybe you people are better off without me." He shrugs, taunting us. "Sure. Go ahead."

I've never had to be a leader before. I did have to kill Shane, but Rick's done so much more for us. I'm not better off without him.

"I say there's a place for us out there, but maybe—" He's just rambling, now. "Maybe it's just another pipe dream. Maybe I'm— Maybe I'm fooling myself again. I'm just as much a sucker as Shane was. But, hey, why don't you go find out yourself?"

He sweeps his hand behind him, presenting us with the forest.

"Huh? Send me a postcard."

I can't hear the owl anymore. I think it flew away.

"Go on. There's the door. You think you can do better? Let's see how far you get."

I pull the leather of Dad's vest up to my face, shyly peeping over the top of it; breathing shakily. I don't want to see how far I can get. I want to stay right here with my people, whether we're starving or not; freezing or not. I think everyone else does, too.

Or at the very least, they want to stay here where there's a warm fire and guns.

"No takers?" He lilts. "Fine. But get one thing straight. If you're staying—"

He pins every single one of us with a look.

"— This isn't a democracy, anymore."

That word Dale used. The one that means things is fair.

Then he sits right back down where he was before, like he didn't just threaten to abandon us all.

Slowly, everyone else sits back down too, because there's nothing else to do. We all heard him. We can't leave. When Dad settles in behind me again, I squirrel into his chest, his arms wrapping around me. There's no sound except for the branches crackling in the fire and the heartbeat beneath his shirt. I don't know where we go from here. But I do know Dad will keep me safe, and Rick will keep the group safe. He's worked himself raw and bloody to make sure we survive. The fish fry, the CDC, the highway, Shane, the fall of the farm. All of it.

We didn't survive all that bullshit just to fall apart now. There's still something out there for us.

We just have to find it.

Author's Notes.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed 😊

I'm sad to see the farm go, but we had a nice time while we were there.

Please leave a comment! I'm anxious to hear from you all after so long :)

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon daughter #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #angst #rick grimes #reader #original character #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd

[mybabydenkikaminari]

My personal ramble about Rlain and Renarin

Hi everyone, again! Now that I have given you the post with all the canon things perfectly clean, I need somewhere to ramble so… Let’s get started shall we?

In Way of Kings Rlain (known as Shen at the time) was Bridge Four with the rest of the crew and Renarin was with The Kholins, so they have no chance of interaction. 

In Words of Radiance they could possibly coexist more but chances are still pretty low. Rlain (still known as Shen), was not allowed to have a spear so he couldn’t be a bodyguard and Renarin was with the Kholin’s. So, the first period of time that they really coexist in Bridge Four goes from Chapter 41, when Renarin asked Kaladin to be one of them, until Chapter 52 where our beloved Rlain leaves to search for the Listeners. Considering that Rlain was still playing his Shen role and that Renarin was mostly starting to get to know everyone I don’t think that they exchanged more than a few words or maybe they didn’t talk at all. Anyway, Rlain would be out of the picture until Chapter 78, when he comes back and tells the truth about being a spy and turns back to be with his Bridge Four family. 

In Oathbringer it’s when we get our first interactions between these two, starting in Chapter 37, when Renarin has already revealed that he is a Truthwatcher, and he is talking with Lunamor (or Rock) about being the odd one

“Don’t deny it, Rock. Lopen is … well Lopen. And you’re obviously… um… you. But I’m still the strange one.” 

Lunamor slapped dough onto a rock, then pointed toward where Rlain -the Parshendi bridgeman they used to call Shen- sat on a rock near his squad, watching quietly as the others laughed at Eth having accidentally stuck a stone to his hand. He wore warform, and so was taller and stronger than he had been before-but the humans seemed to have completely forgotten that he was there. 

“Oh”, Renarin said. “I don’t know if he counts.”

“This thing is what everyone always tells him” Lunamor said “Over and over again.” 

Renarin stared for a long time while Lunamor continued to make bread. Finally, Renarin stood up and dusted off his uniform, walked across the stone plateau, and settled down beside Rlain. Renarin fidgeted and didn’t say anything, but Rlain seemed to appreciate the company anyway. 

The next time that this is brought up is by Rlain himself in Chapter 55 (that is called Alone Together btw - you can read as much as you want there, because it is also a chapter about everyone feeling like an outcast in Bridge Four).

Rlain sipped his drink and wished Renarin were here; the quiet lighteyed man usually made a point of speaking with Rlain. The others jabbered excitedly, but didn’t think to include him. Parshmen were invisible to them-they’d been brought up that way. 

And yet, he loved them because they did try.  

Here we can see that between Chapter 37, where Rock pointed out to Renarin and Chapter 55, the highprince has made a habit to talk to Rlain, and the listener appreciates his company (come on, he really just sounds like a boy that misses his crush). I also think that it is safe to assume that Renarin also enjoys his company because it was Rock's "idea" but he didn't have to keep doing it.

In a few lines though (also Chapter 55), Skar would bring Renarin up.

“So…” Skar said. “Are we going to talk about Renarin?”

The twenty-eight men shared looks, many settling down around the barrel of Rock’s drink as they once had around the cookfire. There were certainly a suspicious number of buckets to use as stools, as if Rock had planned for this, The Horneater himself leaned against the table he’d brought out for holding cups, a cleaning rag thrown over his shoulder.

“What about him?” Kaladin asked, frowning and looking around at the group.

(They proceed to complain that reading is feminine with one of the most stellar quotes of Lopen: “Drehy likes other guys. That’s like … he wants to be even less around women than the rest of us. It’s the opposite of feminine. He is, you could say, extra manly”)

Kaladin rubbed his forehead, and Rlain empathized. 

+

He felt embarrassed for them-they were simply too concerned about what a person should and shouldn’t be doing. It was because they didn’t have forms to change into. If Renarin wanted to be a scholar, let him be a scholar

+

“I’m sorry” Kaladin said, holding out his hand to calm the men “I wasn’t trying to insult Drehy. But storms, men. We know that things are changing. Look at the lot of us. We’re half-way to being lighteyes! We’ve already let five women into Bridge Four, and the’ll be fighting with spears. Expectations are being upended-and we’re the cause of it. So let’s give Renarin a little leeway, shall we?” 

Rlain nodded.  Kaladin was a good man. 

All is making a good picture with how Rlain, as same as Kaladin, think that if Renarin wants to be a scholar they should support him, or at very least don't judge him.  Considering that he hasn’t been raised in a Vorin region, it makes sense that he would care even less than a regular Bridge Four person. 

Also, I think that is important to note that even if Rlain has mentioned other times that Kaladin is a good man, he usually doesn’t emphasize it that much, like he does this time, where the topic is defending Renarin. 

It's relevant to say that between Oathbringer and Rhythms of War a year has passed, and taking into account everything that we know this far, I think it's very accurate to assume that Renarin and Rlain have only grow closer, since both of them are still Bridge Four and it's seems that they never broke the habit of seeking each other company. 

In Rhythm of War, we have our last hints about the two Englithen Truthwatchers, starting with Renarin in Chapter 54.

We need more, Glys said. We need more like us, who will be. Who?

I can think of one, Renin said, who would be a perfect choice…

Dude… Dude!!!! Here he is talking about who Tumi should choose, but honestly, I think it also shows how hard he is crushing for our favorite Listener. I mean, Renarin knows a ton of people, like scholars and Windrunners squires,...  So that the only person that he can think about is Rlain, it's screams to my how much time he is present in his head and how much he cares for him.  Also, the phrasing here, he is the perfect choice, for the spren or for you, Renarin?

Next we have the honorable mention in Chapter 79 that everyone it's using as a hint that Rlain it's pretty much just gay. I honestly think that this one is self explanatory enough. 

No, Venli is here, he thought. There were two of them. He’d never particularly liked Venli, but at least he wasn’t the sole listener. It made him wonder. Should they… try to rebuild? The idea nauseated him for multiple reasons. For one, the times he’d tried mateform himself, things hadn’t gone the way he -or anyone really- had expected. 

In last place we have all the times that Tumi and Rlain talk about Renarin that are in Chapter 111 (the first quote) and Chapter 114 (the second one). 

Keep fighting, a voice said in his head. Salvation will be, Rlain, listener. Bridger of Minds. I have been sent to you by my mother, at the request of Renarin, Son of Thorns. I have watched you and seen your worthiness. 

+

Renarin knows? Rlain thought

He suggested you, Tumi said. And told our mother about you. He was right. Our bond will be strong, and you will be wondrous. We are awed by you, Rlain.  The Bridger of Minds. We are honored. 

Oh my, oh my… So here it is pretty clear that Renarin has talked very highly about why Rlain would be a perfect Truthwatcher, and, obviously Tumi agreed (which makes sense because, come on, Rlain is amazing). But I also like the fact that Rlain is shocked enough to ask again about Renarin recommending him (You could argue that maybe the first time he didn’t get it because he was in a stressful situation, which would be perfectly valid, but I feel that it's not the case)

I only have one more quote to go but it's pretty much related to what I want/need in Knights of Wind and Truth, so we are going to talk about it later. So here is the point we are at.

Renarin is gay (WOB) and aware that he has a crush (also WOB) and seeing how he talks about Rlain it just makes sense. They have grown closer in this year gap and Renarin has realized how honorable and interesting he really is. We also know that he has not told anyone yet (WOB again), not even Adolin, so I think he is at the point that he has accepted these feelings, but he's not ready to act on it or even doesn't know what to do about it. It has been for shadow in the books that he had almost 0 romantic experiences so this is going to be fun.

Rlain, on the other hand, hasn't realized how much he means to Renarin and it's probably why is shocked that he has suggested him in the first place (which come on, you need to give yourself more credit!!). But I also think that Rlain really appreciates Renarin for how he really is, not taking into account his position and all that crap. Which makes perfect sense considering that this conflict is his own struggle and he wants to be acknowledged by the rest. But I also have the feeling that he is not aware of his own crush for our beloved human boy (or maybe he hadn't accepted it), so I think Rlain has more work to do towards his feelings. 

Overall I think that they are perfect for each other because they are both outcast in so many levels and meanings, and they can understand and related a lot with the other struggle, which it may probably help them grow. Also this will open the door in making more okay for others to explore relationships between humans and singers (cough cough Leshwi and Kaladin cough cough). I honestly think that Renarin and Rlain are perfect to be the new pioneers in this subject, they are already use to the scrutiny of people and are slowing coming to terms with not caring about what people think..Enlightened Truthwatchers boyfriends <3

So now the real question is what do will see in the next book? Well first of all we have the last quote also in Chapter 114. 

Rlain had established that he needed to stay, at least until Renarin returned. 

With all honesty I would be happy with whatever we get, because we have yet to see a scene where they are actually talking to each other and sharing time together, so I would be happy with that. Also scenes where Renarin it’s teaching him to use his powers and they are learning from each other. Furthermore scenes of them being together in Bridge Four like in Oathbringer but with their PoV would be perfect. And don’t even get me started on Renarin being one of the scholars documenting about Listeners culture and the different Rhythms. But what I really need it’s a “confrontation” scene, where Rlain goes to find Renarin and asks him about why he suggested him to Tumi. There are so many good answers, that I know that whatever my cinnamon roll says will be perfect. 

Renarin and Rlain outcasts together,

Thanks for coming to my TED talk

PS. Definitely considering about writing a little fanfic about this two after all this studying of character XD (and also how little of them we have :c) 

#renarin kholin #rlain #rlainarin #stormlight archive #cosmere #oathbringer #rhythm of war #my post

[abracazabka]

You. 🫵 Top 5 Moments in The Karate Kid Novelization

OHHHHHOHOHOHO

so for anyone who wants to read a lot of bits and pieces of the Karate Kid novelization, click the read more bc I uhhh. Well I went kind of crazy on this ask. Sorry, friend lmfao

1. Well I made a post about it before but CAN'T FUCKING FIND IT. But anyway, you and I both know the top moment is when we see what goes through Daniel's head as Mr. Miyagi gives him a bonsai and urges him to picture a tree:

"He saw it. It stood, a cypress on a cliff by an ocean, beaten and shaped by the harsh wind and salt air. Its branches withstood the environment and reached bravely for nourishment and survival. It was lonely and beautiful" (Hiller 39-40).

I love this moment bc it resonates with the theme of healing yourself and obtaining strong roots through reaching for help and connection from other people, and not falling to anger, bitterness, etc. Wounds can be healed, y'know? And Daniel is stronger than he looks, and not alone anymore. (Also how you mentioned it coincidentally reminds you of the bonsai in KK3?? INSANE!!)

2. Next would be all the moments that clue you in to how kind and considerate Daniel is toward his mother. He has his pissy teenage boy moments, but he loves his mom so much, and wants a good life for both of them, even at the expense of himself. A couple examples:

[After he is beat by Johnny on the beach]

"'Oh, Daniel! What happened?'

Daniel wanted to tell her something she could believe. She had enough worries of her own and he didn't want her to have to worry about him, too" (18).

Very very sweet. But Daniel, she's your mother!! She will worry, and you gotta be honest </3

[After The Cobras ran him off the road]

"'I'm sorry doesn't help, Ma. I want to go home. I don't understand the rules here.'

'You know, hon. I'm not so sure I understand them myself. It's been a little rocky here for me, too, though I've made it through three days without getting a black eye.' Daniel caught the twinkle in her eye and smiled despite himself.

... 'Let's get you cleaned up and we'll see if we can't figure out the rules together.' She put her arm around Daniel's shoulders and they began to walk to the apartment together" (37).

I love this moment!!! Lucille lets Daniel know they are in this together. They are able to share their hardship with one another, and bounce back from it not just to soldier on, but to be there for each other!!

3. Honestly, I thought it was cheesey at first, but from a literary standpoint, the Garden of Eden allusion/motif. Some examples:

[At first he sarcastically/bitterly thinks of "the Garden of Eden" his mother calls California. This is as he ponders about insecurities about Ali, then distracts himself with thoughts of his tree.]

"He thought of his bonsai tree and how he had pruned it and clipped it so that it almost looked like the picture in his mind ー the one thing that flourished in this Garden of Eden" (44).

I love the way he thinks back to his bonsai and what Mr. Miyagi has given him, but this passage is kind of saddening as much as it scratches my brain

[The last line of the novel presents the phrase very differently (positively). It is pretty cheesy, but it's grown on me. Context within the quote.]

"How can I go wrong, he thought, with a terrific man like Mr. Miyagi for a friend, the most beautiful ... girlfriend ... a mother who will spring for lobsters every time I win the All Valley ...

A guy could really turn on to a Garden of Eden like this" (131).

I'm happy for him! This is how the ending should always be! The joy!!

4. Bobby's moments make me fucking INSANE. I think it was handled pretty well, all things considered. So: Bobby Brown renouncing Cobra Kai.

[After being commanded by Kreese to take Daniel out of commission, then beginning his match with Daniel]

"Bobby stood still, his eyes locked with Kreese's. Daniel couldn't understand what was happening as he observed a battle of wills between Bobby and Kreese ...

Once again [Bobby's] eyes shifted to Kreese, then back to Daniel ...

From the stretcher, [Daniel] watched Bobby exit the ring to catcalls from the audience. Bobby stopped just long enough to untie and discard his belt at Kreese's feet and walk out, shattered.

The Cobra, it seemed, could be poisoned by its own venom" (119-120).

THE COBRA POISONED BY ITS OWN VENOM? SHATTERED??? yeah I'm insane about this. Bobby...Bobby...

5. Lastly, bc who cares about these gay bitches (me, I do), all the moments that could be associated with lawrusso if you squint:

"As their eyes measured each other, Johnny's body moved, catlike, into a karate stance ...

Johnny and his gang mounted their dirt bikes" (16).

Cat-like, huh...mounted you say...this is some strange description, Daniel

"[Ali] smiled at him one more time and rushed off, almost bumping into Johnny. Daniel realized that Johnny had witnessed his entire conversation with Ali" (20-21).

Why are you so close, so transfixed, Johnny...

"Calmly, [Daniel] smeared the gob of blueberry gunk on Johnny's shirt. Mayhem erupted" (30) ...

"Johnny just stared at him ... Silently, Johnny brushed Daniel's bicycle to the limit" (34).

:( The bullying moments ... PIE!!! PIE!!! I love what a little shit Daniel is there. This moment doesn't have the sensuality of the deleted scene though. But I do like Johnny's STARE in the next part

"So, he learned Johnny's class schedule and avoided him" (43).

I get it but also. Hmm. Okay...🏳️‍🌈

"Johnny stood in front of him, soaking wet. He put his hands on his hips" (49).

This is just hilarious cuz a lot of us like to call Johnny a Wet Beast for Daniel. Also hands on his hips is just a funny and endearing moment, what a shit lol

"Daniel carefully evaded Johnny's grasp, but realized it was going to be a losing battle. Johnny was bigger" (66-67).

THE EMPHASIS...HUH. I GET IT. BUT ALSO. OKAY...🏳️‍🌈

"For there, on the dance floor, was Ali ー dancing with Johnny. Johnny's eyes met Daniel's" (88).

Gayass

"He'd have to ... meet Johnny at the tournament, completing the battle they'd begun that first day on the beach" (96) ...

[After Daniel returns to the arena, and Johnny meets his eyes] "Daniel wondered for an instant if there was a slight flicker of relief in those stony eyes, but rejected the thought" (123) ...

"Daniel and Johnny circled, each looking for a point of attack, each oblivious to the rest of the rest of the world" (124).

The tournament! I love the phrases...the battle that begun on the beach...Johnny's recognition of and buried hope for Daniel...their eyes only for each other, for this fight...

[After the tournament] "Daniel had won the crowd's respect; he'd won Johnny's respect; most important, however, he'd won his own self-respect" (125) ...

"Finally, Daniel stood next to Johnny. They bowed. Their eyes met in genuine respect" (126).

I love Daniel's journey toward his self-respect, that is so important to me. But also Johnny's HEHEH....Cobra Kai take notes.

ANYWAY UH YEAH. THERE YOU GO. THIS LITERALLY TOOK ME LIKE AN HOUR (PROBABLY MORE). LOL...

#asks #ask game #ask games #top 5 #the karate kid #karate kid #the karate kid novelization

[slashingdisneypasta]

So I clearly missed some things due to my severe lack of activeness on this hellsite (derogatory) but I'd very much like to know more about Then He Got Rough if you feel comfortable sharing.

If not though, that's totally okay!! Either way, hope you're doing well, my friend 💜🙏🏻

!!!! Thats my Original Work!! I occasionally mention it on here, but I do need to be quite careful about what I say cuz theirs a lotta stuff in it that is meant to be a surprise XD But goddddddddddddddd I love talking about it, so thank you for asking!! ^^

Basically it is a small town murder mystery, but using Slasher Movie Tropes. Its also got a lotta platonic love and other more complicated kinds of relationships because I'm, of course, aro and I need that shit XD Here's a basic blurb I made up for someone else who asked one time ^^

Hallie (the virgin) meets Edward Brown (the killer) and they hit it off- she's exactly the kinda girl he likes; friendly, kinda reserved, and they have... err- certain things from their pasts... in common, it turns out. And to her, Edward's the perfect guy, too! He's a young English teacher at the high school and he's got this skinny Clark Kent thing about him?? Awkward, and funny. She doesn't realise he's a part of the little town's most powerful (and tight-lipped) family, the Bamford's (He was adopted into it- Edward Bamford-Brown), until she tells her best friend and roommate Maggie (the whore) about him. Maggie immediately develops a bad taste in her mouth when it comes to Edward. She goes rogue and decides to investigate, employing Hallie's family doctor, Arthur (the scholar), and his old friend/new roommate combo; anxious ex-con Rodney (the fool), who just so happens to be Edwards adoptive aunt Carla Bamford's ex husband. Doors are opened for Maggie into the world of the Bamford's through Arthur and Rodney, and Winnie Bamford (the athlete) later on, and she uncovers some bone chilling secrets about everyone in this family, and everyone a r o u n d them, too, that make her determined to save her friend before its too late.

**You might also be interested to know that, in my head, Rodney (Who is a very charismatic, but very anxious man who used to do some pretty bad things but feels terrible (he knows his behaviour had everything to do with self-loathing) is really truly trying to clean up his act these days post-divorce; rooming with his old friend Arthur and working at the grocery store as its the only job he could get) is played by a more middle-aged Robert Englund XDD (Closer to Professor Wexler in Urban Legend then Inkubus) . Arthur is played by Brad Dourif XDD (so yes- freddy kruger and chucky XD Of course.)

Some little tid-bits I can/want to share also:

The Bamford Family Line-Up:

Mrs Emily Bamford: The matriarch. A cold-hearted snake woman. She pretty much only loves Edward.

Mayor Richard Bamford: He and Em were highschool sweethearts back in the day but broke up when he left to pursue politics in a big city-- but mysteriously came back and married Emily a few months later despite everyone knowing he was doing so well in the city?? Took the Bamford name and everything. Its rumoured that Emily's parents blackmailed him *cough*. Everyone knows Emily is in charge. Richard always looks kind of like a show pony next to her, despite being actual Mayor.

Carla Bamford: Emily's adopted sister and town journalist. She's kinda lily-livered. The only thing she really stood against the family about was her marriage to Rodney (They didn't approve. He was a damn con), but even that fell apart eventually.

Rodney Hawk (Formally Bamford. They made him take their name but he's got his back, now): I already talked about him XD

Edward Bamford-Brown: THE MAIN VILLAIN. Edward is Emily and Richard's adopted son, the same age as their biological daughter (Winnie. up next) who... well, its no secret- is the favourite. Emily would let him get away with anything. She would help him get away with anything. He can do no wrong, in her eyes.

Winnie Bamford: Emily and Richard's biological daughter. She's an insane freak- they sent her away to boarding school in Georgia but she came back worse, and there are s o many rumours about her in town; Orgies and deviant sexual activity, mostly (most of it is true, too). She has a major thing for 'Uncle Rodney' and makes him very very uncomfortable. On the bright side though?? She's more then happy to fuck things up for her spiteful mother by assisting Maggie to uncover some dark secrets (: She wont make it easy, though 😅 That would be no fun.

Unnamed Bamford Family Member: I cant tell you anything about them, whoops.

And Tom Manning: Richard's best friend, and the town lawyer (Edwards lawyer). So close with Rich and Em (And Winnie and Edward) that he's practically part of the family. I have described him as 'a hot dill pickle in a sharp suit if he was a harvard law graduate'. He's slimy, charismatic and seemingly perfect.

Here are the main characters Looks, if you're interested 😅

(Also another little thing that is really just a convoluted blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of inside joke- Maggie, who has a huge thing for Arthur and constantly describes his eyes as 'brad dourif-blue', is a major Childs Play fan.

... and hallie loves a nightmare on elm street *cough*. she doesnt really interact with rodney, but during the few times they do, they totally have Something. and when she describes her perfect guy?? its the opposite to edward. its rodney. anyway- )

Anyway, thank you for asking! And reading, if you made it this far XDD Sorry for the word-vomit!! I just really really love this story and I really hope one day I can finish it ^^ <3<3<3<3<3<3

I hope you are doing well too- better then before at least ^^ I hope the time away from Tumblr is doing you well! You're right, it can be a very harmful atmosphere and I'm so proud of you for knowing when you need to take a step back!! 💛💛💛💛💛

#Then He Got Rough