#shane always have to fidget with whatever's in his hand

[sncwonthebeach]

this vid currently sits at 377,330 views and I'm convinced that half of them are just me rewatching this clip over and over again .

#in which i'm shane #shane always have to fidget with whatever's in his hand #hes just like me fr #ryan getting hit in the head with it anyway was so funny tho 🤣 #the ghoul boys are neurodivergent i just know it #they gotta be a little neurospicy #mystery files #shane madej #we are watcher #watcher network #ryan bergara #ghost files #all hail the watcher #dish granted #steven lim #puppet history #too many spirits #let it remain a mystery #mystery files season 2 #and this coming a DAY after my other post ?? #did i make the aliens start sweating? #shane saying “mommy vommy” 😭😭😩 #shane just fucking talks fr

[itsgrimeytime]

drunk on you (part two) || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader (no apocalypse!AU)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

Part 1

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: You'd known Rick forever, as far back as freshman year. He was a guy you (if you were honest) had a crush on; there was just something in his stance and the low drawl of his voice. You'd say that feeling only got worse from there. Before you could blink, he was married and had a kid; and suddenly, despite your best efforts, you felt very out of place. You faded out of his life, and he yours. So when Rick shows up at your door (drunk out of his mind) about 5 years after the last time you spoke to him, you have a lot of questions.

TWs: divorce mention, alcohol, making out, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: girl get ready. WEDDING TIME!!! Also, I am about to create Rick Grimes's mother as a character in this one, so... I know Southern mothers, you'll see. Enjoy :))]]

Soon after you reunited with Rick, you got the wedding invite in the mail. All curly letters and shiny details, you wondered briefly just how fancy it would be, and the dress code-

You made a note to ask Rick before the day.

You'd been seeing a lot of him recently, he either asked you to come to his city or just showed up in yours.

You'd shown him a few different places, (you'd gone to a café, one with cheesy puns that you, ashamedly, laughed at. Rick had only smiled, and shook his head, "Adorable." You weren't sure what exactly he was talking about, but something in you had a clue), and even some of your favorites.

You weren't sure why you wanted to share so much with him, but it felt natural.

He'd even met some of your new friends ("That Rick?"), and they had promptly horrendously embarrassed you. (He is handsome, you were right, Y/N.) Rick couldn't get enough of that day, laughing and smiling with your friends -but you did catch his cheeks turning rosy when they brought up your... compliments.

It made your heart stutter in your chest.

And then, he'd brought Carl to meet you again. Rick was terrible about just showing up at your place unprompted, so you were not ready for it. But somehow you slotted right in.

"You know I held you as a baby, right?"

Carl blinked up at you like he was processing the information, and maybe trying to recognize you, "I think I remember you."

He seemed to only remember that you were constantly playing with him, and even pulled out some old toys you recognized. Ones that were apparently super sentimental to him. It made you smile.

You fell right back in place, listening to him talk about whatever he wanted to -it felt familiar. Something about your old life that wasn't as hurtful.

You'd missed the little guy.

And in the back of your head, if you noticed Rick wordlessly staring at you with quite possibly the brightest smile you'd ever seen on his face, you ignored it. Because there was still two months to go, and that meant nothing.

Or at least that's what you told yourself.

The weeks before the wedding though, you didn't see much of him. A part of you wondered if it had all washed away, and you weren't entirely sure how to interact with that.

You were probably the only one early to the wedding, but Lori had wanted you to be. Said something about catching up, and wanting to see you. Shane was apparently just the same. You weren't sure how to take it.

On one hand, they were your old friends, on the other, they had really done something shitty to Rick and you doubted they got as much flak as they should have. Rick was too nice, always was, but he definitely had his moments.

Later, you decided, later, you'd chew them out. Not on their wedding day.

Fidgeting with your clothes, you waltzed up into the chapel -all high ceilings and stained-glass windows. It was beautiful, really, with flowers strewn against the pews and a leather little check-in book where you signed in. It was everything that a wedding was supposed to be, all the little bells and whistles.

Isn't infidelity a sin? Your mind chimed, and you zapped back the thought -a betraying little smile on your face.

"Y/N!" a voice cheered, and you were met with Shane -a few years older and a buzzcut (which was an interesting choice, to say the least), "-long time no see, buddy!"

"Hey," you smiled, genuine warmth building up -he was your friend after all. He was like a brother. That was kinda why you did what you did.

With a breath, you smacked him in the face -not a real one, kind of just a play hit. It still got the message across.

"Yeah," he rubbed his jaw, "-figured 'at was comin'."

"Good," you said, before opening up your arms for a hug, which Shane gladly accepted. He still smelt the same -a little too sour for your tastes, but was much more built. Just like Rick.

You smiled, stepping back, "It's really good to see you, sorry for-"

"Don't," Shane held up his hand, "-There's no need. I get it, a lot more than ya think."

At least I held back on my impulses, you thought, before shoving it down again.

God, you were really going to have to keep yourself in check today.

"I'll show ya to where Lori is," he offered, "-think she's still getting ready."

"Probably will be for a while, Shane," you laughed, "-The wedding hasn't even started."

"Good point," he agreed, gruffly, before guiding you to a door -you heard a lot of rustling behind it. Just thinking of the extent of people, you nearly didn't knock.

Luckily, Shane did that for you.

"'S Y/N," he called before nearly scampering away -you had to hold back a laugh.

"Oh, come in!"

Lori was the first one to, verbally, greet you, smiling wide -her hair was getting done, "Y/N, oh it's so good to see you, I'm so glad you could-"

Before she could finish, someone came rushing over to you - almost squealing in delight.

"Y/N, honey," she smiled, big and bright, "-it's been so long!"

That was the one and only Bonnie Grimes, Rick's mother. You wondered for a moment, why she would be here, before she barreled you into a hug.

"Hey, Mrs. Grimes," you smiled, accepting her hug gratefully, and she squeezed you a little too hard but you had expected it. Bonnie Grimes was on solid hugger, wouldn't let you go until she wanted to.

"Please, call me Bonnie," she grinned, before pulling back from the embrace, "-Look at you! You look so good, honey! All grown up."

"You saw me when I was in college, Mrs... Bonnie," you laughed, "-I don't think I've changed much since then."

"I still remember you in high school," she sighed -wistfully, "-ugh, the three of you were so cute! I miss those days."

Before you could say a word, she intertwined your arms and began ushering you out the door, "C'mon, let's go, sweetie! We have lots to talk about."

"I was just-" she pulled you neatly out of the door, so you shot Lori an apologetic smile -she laughed and waved you off.

Bonnie had never had the... best relationship with Lori, you heard it through the grapevine a lot. So, you had no idea why she was here at all, other than to maybe see Carl? But, still, she was definitely petty enough to wait and see him later, so what-

"When Ricky told me you were comin', I just had to see you," she said -like she was reading your mind, before whispering low, "-otherwise I wouldn't even be 'ere."

You nearly laughed at 'Ricky', but sealed it back behind your lips, responding simply, "I'm really honored, Bonnie. I would've come out to see you but-"

"Oh, sweetie," she laughed, pulling you down to sit outside on a bench infront of the church, "-I know why you couldn't. A mother's instincts."

"Yeah," you laughed, a little awkwardly -his mom knowing was not something you had quite imagined.

"You know, I always wanted you two together," she remarked, almost as if she didn't expect you to comment, "-liked you better than her for him."

"Bonnie," you urged.

"What? They're divorced now, I can say it."

"Maybe not at her wedding," you quipped back.

"Okay, you're right," she sighed out, "-suppose I just can't get over what they did to my baby."

You frowned, taking a hand and rubbing soothing circles into her shoulder, "I can imagine, it must've really hurt to see your son like that."

"Hurt? Oh I was furious, sweetie," she clarified, "-Ricky had to hold me back by my horns."

You let out a laugh, and Bonnie smiled back. The air was crisp, and the sun was warm -it was a good day. And, it was nice to get to come back -see some of where you grew up. It was familiar, homey and you felt in place, you weren't sure that would ever go away.

"You know, he talked about you," Bonnie hummed, looking out into the streets, "-even when you left, it was like... he wanted to keep you in his memories."

You exhaled, guilt swirling up in your stomach, "Yeah, I'm starting to think I made a mistake leaving. I feel like I missed so much."

Bonnie smiled -a little bittersweet, gathering you up into a side hug, "No one is smart in the matters of the heart, honey. You were hurtin', you did what you could to feel better. There's nothin' wrong with that."

You smiled, leaning into her -your head resting on hers, "Thanks, Bonnie."

"Now, that that's settled," she said slowly, happiness dipped into her words, "-Can we talk about it?"

"About what?"

"My son," she clarified, playfully smiling, "-he talks all about you, you know. And he's been really excited for today, I was hopin' you could tell me why. It's downright suspicious for a man to be so happy at his ex-wife's wedding-"

"Maybe, she's marrying a terrible man," you joked, and Bonnie laughed.

"Shane always was trouble," she seemed to think back, before reiterating, "-I know you two have been spendin' a lot of time together, and I didn't want to be hopin'."

"Okay," you held up your hands in mock surrender, "-you got me. When we met up those few months ago, he told me he had feelings for me-"

"No, really?!" she gasped, "-Oh, I thought he was never going to do that. Praise you, Jesus-"

"It was right after Shane's bachelor party, and I was... skeptical," Bonnie listened very closely, "-so I told him that if he still feels the same by the wedding, we can talk."

"That's very reasonable, sweetie," Bonnie smiled, before speaking much more directly, "-I hate to say it, though, all 'at time was certainly wasted. My boy has loved you since he met you-"

"Bonnie."

"-he just didn't know it," she finished, slapping her hands into her lap, "-You don't know how many times I tried to get it through his head, honey. It was like talkin' to a brick wall, I tell you."

You laughed again, "Well, I appreciate you sticking up for me."

"Oh, I do it a thousand times over for you, sweetheart," she hugged you into her side again, "-you make my baby boy very happy and I'll be forever grateful for that."

You smiled -something warm in your chest.

"And," she whispered, "-if you need a moment with Rick, you just tell me and I can draw a whole crowd."

You laughed even harder then, as she guided you back inside -you ended up helping with some if the last minute decorations.

At the current moment, you were pulling the flower petals into the basket for the flower girl. Apparently, they had to be fresh. It was kind of sad to pull them off the flower though.

"Hey," a voice breathed out like they were startlingly happy.

You peeked up, and saw the one and only Rick Grimes -dressed to the nines in a suit that really suited him. Handsome, really handsome. You fidgetted with your clothes self-consciously.

"Hi," you parroted back with a smile, "-like the suit."

"Oh," he grinned, a bit like he had so much energy but just couldn't put it anywhere, "-thank you, wasn't sure I'd like it."

It was the one picked out by Lori, with the color scheme -the light blue tie matched his eyes really well though, so she apparently picked well. Rick was Shane's best man, so his outfit was one specially picked -you weren't given the "luxury".

"I think you look handsome," you smiled, halting your work for a moment, "-If that helps with your opinion at all."

"Uh, yeah," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, "-Yeah, it does. Yours was the only opinion 'at matters."

Your heart jolted into your throat, your eyes flickered back down to your hands -pulling off more petals. The basket was about halfway full now.

"Wouldn't say that out loud, Ricky," you teased -alluding.

"Oh god," he groaned, "-my Mom's 'ere? Why?"

"The one and only," you laughed, "-and apparently she's here for me."

"Sounds like 'er," he grinned -big and bright, and it seemed like he almost wanted to say something else but-

"Rick, Shane needs you," someone, who you decidedly didn't know, popped their head in.

"Talk later?" You offered.

Rick pursed his lips for a moment, like he was really debating going anywhere else. (Like he wanted to stay with you.) But he let out a big, long sigh, "Yeah, I'll hold ya to it."

"Please, do," you laughed, watching him go out of the room -like a puppy dog. You frowned, you really need to get yourself in check.

The ceremony was beautiful, Bonnie sat beside you and plastered on the most real fake smile you'd ever seen -elbowing you and whispering low little jokes every once in a while. You had to bite back laughter half the service. On your other side was Carl fidgeting with his vest -apparently he was supposed to be up there with Shane, but he refused. You got a little kick out of that.

To cheer him up, you taught him the head squish trick -squeezing your two fingertips together from a distance. Carl was much more engaged after that, particularly squishing his Dad's head with a big smile.

And Rick, well, he stayed focused but every once in awhile, you'd catch him looking at you. The dart of an eye, so quick you could miss it if you hadn't been looking at him too; Bonnie would point it out to you, if you weren't paying attention.

The reception was nearby, in a building that was primarily rented for this exact purpose. It looked how you thought a reception should look with a big dance floor, so many decorated tables, and a buffet of food off to the side. Which all looked and smelled delicious, you noted.

Each seat had a name, you realized. So, you were kind of awkwardly navigating through tables to try and find your spot -you didn't want to get food and then wander around like a chicken with your head cut off. So, you dodged through chairs -peeking at the little cards, and just as you found it, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You spun around and met Bonnie's eyes, she was looking a little nervous.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes," she hummed, "-I just realized that I forgot some medicine in my purse, would you be a doll and go grab it for me?"

"Sure," you soothed, "-where is it?"

"The closet where they put the coats," Bonnie answered, "-I wanted it out of the way, but-"

"Bonnie," you smiled, ushering her to her marked chair, "-please, sit down, I'll grab it for you."

She smiled, big and wide, a polite thank you leaving her lips. There was something there, but at the time, it didn't seem important.

With a breath, you wondered back toward the front of the building -trying to remember which closet exactly was the one with the coats. You hadn't had one, so you didn't stop but-

The door to the closest one slipped open, and hands pulled you inside. You nearly screamed, but when your eyes adjusted to the dim light, they settled on Rick -standing just across from you.

"Rick," you hissed, "-what the hell? You scared the-"

"Sorry, sweetheart, was the only way to getcha alone," he spoke, a little quickly -breathlessly happy to see you.

"Oh, is that why-" you puffed out a breath, "-Bonnie was in on this, wasn't she?"

Rick grinned, shrugging a little -as if to say, maybe. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop a smile from smoothing across your face.

"Why are we in here, Rick?"

"I needed to talk to ya," he echoed out, "-alone."

"And we couldn't do that anywhere else?" You laughed, "-Like outside, or-"

"It was the first idea to pop into my head, gimme a break," he responded, slow with a smile, "-I 'aven't thought clearly all day."

"What if someone tries to get in here?" You questioned, voice low, "-this is going to look pretty incriminating-"

"It locks from the inside," he said simply, moving his hand and turning the lock.

Your breath caught in your throat suddenly, realization setting in -you were locked in a clost with Rick. Correction, you were locked in a small closet with Rick by his own doing.

Jesus Christ.

"Is there-" you questioned, "-something you wanted to talk about, or?"

You knew exactly what he wanted to talk about, but you were not going to be the one to bring it up. Especially when his face was so close to yours, and the light was dim enough to make his eyes shine so blue, and you could feel his breaths on your face-

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, you could feel it in your throat.

You expected this is much different circumstances, like an open room and good lighting and maybe the crisp night air. Not in a hall closet, where all you could smell was Rick (a woodsy sort of smell), and all you could see was Rick.

His hair was tussled a little, like he had nervously run his hands through it. And part of you wanted to reach up and comb through it, he was letting it get longer now -you liked it.

"I didn't think this through," he finally said.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-I can tell."

"Well, I did," he reasoned, "-'ad this whole thin' planned out, how I was gonna say it and everythin'. But now I... Looking at you, I can't remember any of it."

"You sure it's not a lack of oxygen?" You teased, trying to cut through the tension, "-This room is pretty small-"

"I'm in love with you."

Your mouth snapped shut.

He was laughing a little -in disbelief or happiness, you couldn't tell, "You told me, if my feelin's stayed the same to tell ya. But they haven't."

"They haven't?" You asked, a little weakly.

"I fell in love with you," he clarified, grin so bright, "-I watched you wit' Carl and my Mom and just you. And I... I love you. God, I love you."

"Rick," you whispered out.

"I knew," he exhaled, stepping slightly forward, "-I knew there was somethin'. That I felt somethin' and then you were everywhere, and suddenly I felt everythin'."

Your eyes were starting to tear up, but you held them back.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about ya, and then I just wanted to see ya, all the time-" he exhaled through a laugh.

"Rick," you repeated.

"I love you," he repeated like it was all he could say, eyes desperately searching yours, "-and I know it's kinda shitty to 'ave this moment 'ere, because it's my ex-wife's weddin'-"

You laughed, and a grin found itself along his face -letting out a chuckle.

"But I couldn't wait," he echoed out, "-couldn't wait long enough to not 'ave to do it in a damn closet."

"I would have preferred that," you remarked, "-but, this... this is okay too."

"I nearly told you this mornin'," he breathed out, "-you were in front of me an' all I could think was-"

Your hands cupped his face, and pulled him forward without so much as another thought. He stilled at first, shocked, but when he realized, everything in him shifted.

He pushed you into the wall almost without thinking, instinctual. Hands on the wall behind you, he cornered you in; and your hands only squeezed tighter on his jaw. It was desperate, like he'd been dying in the desert and you were water -like if he didn't have you now, he would've died.

Your hands slipped to his shoulders, and one of his moved to cup your face -your head was getting woozy. He separated for a moment, eyes darting between yours and pressed forward again -stealing the breath out of your lungs.

"Rick," you breathed out, but he kept pushing kisses onto your lips. Like he could never have enough, "-Rick."

He groaned -apparently eager to keep kissing you, pulling back, "What, baby?"

Your throat went dry, lips smacking shut. That was new, you had never heard him call you baby before. Platonically, sweetheart, darlin', the works. But this was distinctly, romantic.

Rick scanned over you for a moment, a bit in concern -eyes fluttering along your face, "Everythin' okay?"

He was still caging you in, wide expanse of arm just above your shoulder and his face a breath away. Your brain was suddenly short-circuiting, all you could see was Rick and all you could smell was Rick and all you could taste-

"Hey, sweetheart," he moved his hands to hold your face -keeping your eyes solely on him, "-are ya okay? Did I hurt you or-"

"No," you let out in a breath, a little embarrassed, "-you just... you called me baby."

"You don't like 'at? I don't 'ave to-"

"Rick, no," you clarified, burning with embarrassment, "-I like it. I... really like it. You've just never called me baby before."

He smiled, sort of lightly -a little like he was in love with you (which he very much was), "I've never kissed you before either, ya know?"

"Yeah, obviously," you huffed out a breath, "-I'm still getting used to that part too. But I just didn't..."

You groaned, and Rick's grin only got wider.

Pushing your hands into your eyes, you exhaled -shame burning in your stomach, "This is so embarrassing."

He didn't say anything for a moment, before his fingers came to grab at your hands pulling them away from your eyes, "'S not embarrassing, baby, 's cute."

"God, you're going to use that against me forever now," you peeked up at him, "-aren't you?"

He grinned at you, hand coming up to hold your cheek, "Yeah, 'course, I am."

Rick was smiling at you then, his eyes dipping low to your lips and your breaths hollowed out in your chest.

"We really can't-" you tried to contradict, but it was weak willed.

"What's a few more minutes, baby?" Rick hummed, face so close to yours that you could see different shades of blue in his eyes.

You only had so much will.

It would be a waste to use it now anyway.

#its griming time #rick grimes #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #drunk on you #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes twd

[carabalism]

family

pairing daryl dixon x teen!reader platonic

synopsis y/n had toughened up very quickly. whether that was purely survival instincts, or the result of her brother’s abuse, she was much tougher since the start of everything.

warning(s) verbal abuse, physical abuse, reader is shane’s sister - aged around 16-18

masterlist

shane audibly laughed at her weak attempt of standing up to him, a cruel smile flashing across his face, “really? that what you think?”

“she’s fine..” y/n muttered.

shane grabbed her by the jaw, squeezing her cheeks together more aggressively than he should, “you listen t’me and you listen good, whatever rick says you listen to me, you listen to just me, y’understand?”

y/n struggled in his hold, which visibly upset him. he pushed her down to the grown forcefully and struck her face with the back of his hand, “you think that hurts, just wait until you see what’s out there! you gotta wake up, y’hear me?!”

when y/n let out a sob instead of responding to him, he crouched down and grabbed her by the face again. his voice was quieter this time, but more intimidating, “i asked you a question, answer me.”

“y-yes, i understand,” her speech was muffled, but she got her words across.

“i don’t want to hurt ‘ya, okay? but you gotta listen to me, i’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.” y/n wanted to cower away from the intensity of his stare, but she nodded dumbly hoping it would placate him.

“good.” shane finally let her go, nodding to himself before rubbing the back of his shaven head, “good.”

y/n jumped up in bed, her heart pounding in her chest. it took her a few moments to realise where she was and to realise she wasn’t in any danger. a sigh of relief escaped her lips, her grip loosening on the knife under her pillow, but not completely letting go.

the loss of her brother had truly shaken y/n to her core as well as the revelation that rick was the one to do it. she could still remember a time when she called rick ‘uncle rick’ and times where the grimes family had shane and her over for dinners. it would never come out her mouth, but she almost felt relieved that he was dead. he wasn’t the same as he was before, the world changed for the worst as did he. they all knew it, y/n knew it too.

he haunts her dreams often.

the more time y/n spent in the world, the more the daunting realisation that shane was actually right came upon her. he may have been losing it, but he was right. she had to fight if she wanted to make it in the world, she couldn’t depend on anyone else to protect her. sophia had done it and that did her no favours.

“y’okay?” y/n’s vision snapped to the front of her cell, where daryl had leant on the doorway. her grip tightened on the knife, but only for a moment before she realised daryl was not a threat to her.

“fine.” y/n muttered, letting her grip finally loosen on the knife. she slipped it back under her pillow and rested her hands on her legs.

“heard ya get up… wanted to check if y’er a’right.” daryl’s eyes focused on the ground, but his words were genuine.

“i’m fine,” y/n nodded, “bad dream s’all.”

daryl grunted in response, nodding in understanding, “i get it.”

“thanks for checkin’.” y/n anxiously fidgeted with her hands. she knew daryl, along with the group were well aware of shane’s less than favourable treatment of her towards the end of his life.

“my brother.. he was the same..” daryl looked at y/n’s eyes briefly, “my dad too.. but i get how y’feel ‘bout shane… he’s blood, ain’t nothin’ that can change that.”

“he used to be great,” y/n sighed, allowing her mind to reach back into a time before walkers roamed around, “he’s always had his moments of being a total asshole, but he always cared… ‘bout me.. would’ve never laid a hand of me if it weren’t for trying to keep me alive.”

“it ain’t ‘bout keepin’ you alive,” daryl paused, unsure if he should speak on the subject, “he laid hands on ya, ‘cause he weren’t all there.”

y/n frowned, “i know.”

“most i’ve heard you talk in a while,” daryl decided to change the subject. he was no stranger to the uncomfortableness that came with the confrontation of abuse. he’d go through the worst times in his life all over again than open up to anyone about it.

“rich comin’ from you, ain’t it?” a small smile spread across y/n’s lips.

daryl scoffed, a grin on his face, “don’t have to be a smartass.”

y/n chuckled, it was quiet, but daryl could hear it. it had been a while since he saw the young girl smile, even laugh at something. it was refreshing to see that she still had it in her to be youthful.

“rick uh… he’s awful sorry ‘bout your brother,” daryl pursed his lips, figuring out the right words to say, “he ain’t send me here, don’t worry… but.. i can tell.”

y/n exhaled a long breath, “it wasn’t his fault, i knew it was going to happen sooner or later anyways… he was cracking, the fear was breakin’ him down.”

daryl grunted in acknowledgement. it was an undeniable fact that shane has cracked. daryl tried to pinpoint a time where it might have happened, but it was hard to say. he was almost always the way he was, but somehow at the end practically unrecognisable.

“he might’ve been an asshole, but he was family,” y/n’s voice shook, “now my family is gone.”

daryl shook his head, “no. y’er family is here. rick, carl, glenn, hershel… they’re family now.”

y/n flashed him a sad smile, he knew that was his way of saying the two were family, but being too introverted to dare to say it out loud, “you don’t think the others hate me?”

daryl’s face scrunched up in confusion, “why’d you even think that?”

y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, “everyone hated shane… what if they’re lookin’ at me like i’ll end up like him.”

daryl scoffed, shaking his head, “don’ think like that, they ain’t even considered tha’.”

y/n frowned, “how can you be sure?”

“merle was a bigger prick than shane,” daryl rolled his eyes, colourful memories of merle flashing through his mind, “th’people here don’t care ‘bout who y’er related to, they care ‘bout who y’are.”

y/n smiled, trying to blink away the tears that came whenever she thought of her brother, “didn’t take you for a public speaker.”

“shut up,” daryl scoffed, but a small smile sat across his lips, “y’gonna be okay?”

“mhm,” y/n nodded, tucking herself under a sheet, “thank you, daryl.”

he nodded and uttered out a ‘you’re welcome’. he stood at the cell door for a few seconds before leaving back to his perch. she was a good kid, no matter if she saw it or not. the group knew she was, she had proved it to them several times. daryl and carol had always kept an eye out for her, especially whilst her brother was nearing his end.

#twd daryl #twd x reader #twd x teen!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x teen!reader #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x female reader

[ananimice]

it isn't me

Ryan awoke with a start, gasping. He sat up and reached over to click on the lantern, eyes scanning the tent quickly. Everything was where it had been when they'd turned the light out. Shane was tucked into the sleeping bag next to him, lashes fanned against his cheeks as he dozed. Ryan watched his chest rise and his breath leave in a light steam from his slightly parted lips.

Fuck it was cold.

The man sighed and pulled his coat tighter around him, rubbing his hands together. Whatever had woken him up still had his heart pounding, but the sleep in his mind was slowly pulling him back into relaxation. He scanned the tent one more time, not so much as a bug catching his eye, before sliding back into the welcoming warmth of his cocoon of blankets. His eyes slid closed and he took a deep, steadying breath.

Then he heard it. A piercing wail in the night, clearly bovine. It reminded Ryan of the way a cow would cry after losing her baby. This time, he heard the horses shuffle and wicker nearby, like they were getting anxious. 

His initial freeze of terror led him to sitting back up, throat clicking with a dry swallow. He nudged Shane.

“Sh.. Shane,” Ryan said softly. Shane’s eyes tightened and he frowned slightly, rolling away further. Ryan bit his lip and shook him this time, making him grumble and open an eye partially to look at his partner. “Something's not right,” Ryan said quietly, pleading. “I heard one of the cattle scream.” Shane snorted and tucked himself in further.

“Well get your gun and go. Prolly a wolf.” he muttered. Ryan swallowed again and looked over at the rifles along the side of the tent. He sat a second, then heard the crying sound again. 

With a sigh and a nod, he grabbed the gun that had slowly become a familiar weight in his hand. He still had yet to actually hit anything with it, but the shooting lessons were getting him used to the kickback at least. If anything, it would scare a wolf off at the very least.

He stumbled out of the tent in his long johns, zipping it up after him in a practiced movement. Moonlight bathed the field, illuminating everything in front of him. The horses remained hitched nearby, eyeing and huffing at Ryan as he had appeared. The cattle, as usual, remained down the hill in their great huddle. The man stood at the top of the hill, looking over them. He was tempted to say he didn't see anything and crawl back into the tent, back into the safety of his blankets and Shane. 

It still felt stupid to rely on him like that, but it was getting easier.

The cold began creeping into his jacket and he huffed, steam escaping him. “God, fuck this,” he muttered, holding the rifle sideways in front of him and beginning his descent to the herd.

He didn't hear the scream again, which would have made him think he was imagining things if the cattle hadn't begun fidgeting. They bayed and stomped in their huddle as Ryan approached, but parted easily as the man whistled to scatter them and walked into the crowd.

He kept his eyes moving as he walked slowly, counting and making sure he could see each cow he passed well enough to determine they were fine. As the number rose, and the cold sunk into his fingertips, he found himself getting annoyed. It was always like him to get freaked out over nothing. Coming to the mountains had been a dumbass decision on his part, like he didn't have enough problems in his life without-

The last of the herd took off, leaving Ryan about ten yards from something flopped in the long grass. Steam billowed off of it in the frozen air. Ryan was stock still, listening intently to the distinct sound of… squelching. The mass - a cow, apparently - shuddered, a low pitiful groan escaping it.

Something growled and Ryan heard snapping, like sticks breaking, followed by a disgusting barrage of wet. He felt bile rise in his throat as the comparison to raw beef being pulverized came to mind.

Slowly, carefully, he raised his rifle against his shoulder and stepped closer. It was too late for this cow, but he could take out the predator if he didn't spook it.

Tense moments passed as he willed his breathing to remain steady, the chill of the air and adrenaline making his arms ache and shudder lightly.

Eight yards, then six. He swallowed hard and cocked his gun.

The creature tearing into the bovine froze. He closed his eyes hard once then opened them again, chastising the way he should have readied the rifle before he'd even descended the hill. 

Slowly, it rose its head. 

First, Ryan noticed the distinct lack of fur. 

Second, the round human-like head. 

Third, the horrific too-wide fanged mouth.

Fourth…

“Sh-Shane?” Ryan all but squeaked, his rifle slowly falling.

Shane smiled, fangs lacing together. If Ryan hadn't spent every waking hour of the last month thinking about the slope of his nose and the crinkle of his eyes, he wouldn't be able to recognize him under the sheer amount of blood. But… it was Shane, naked, feasting on a barely-living cow.

Shane slowly rose to his feet, suddenly too tall, too thin, too… supernatural.

Ryan clutched his rifle, forgetting it was a weapon, his eyes wide and mouth agape as he followed the movement. A sick, wrong sound emerged from Not-Shane, almost like a chuckle.

“Ryyyy-aaaaan…” it sang, muscles tensing as he hunched forward. Distantly, the man knew it was preparing to attack, but he couldn't get himself to react, to breathe, to anything.

“Ryan!” Shane shouted, the distinct thump of boots running on hard soil ripping him out of his fear. Ryan raised his rifle as Not-Shane turned and crouched, pouncing off towards the treeline.

A shot in the dark, literally. A squeal as it stumbled through the grass, pausing so briefly before it continued to sprint off.

Shane came up beside him, panting and staring after the creature. Ryan was shaking like a leaf, rifle still posed.

“I-I-I f-fucking shot it,” he breathed. Big, comforting, familiar hands carefully placed themselves over his, slowly pushing the gun down and clicking the safety on.

“Ry, Ry, look at me- fuck, what was that-”

And it all went dark.

#Shyan #shyan fic #buzzfeed unsolved #skin walker #Cowboy au #skeptic believer #IIM

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Reflecting Light

Chapter One

Chapter Seven:

Roman was pretty sure flying was something he wasn’t going to get sick of anytime soon.  How could anyone get sick of looking so far into the horizon?  They flew for a couple days before Shane told him they had to land and investigate this town and restock, and Roman absolutely adored every second of it.  He got up every morning and got to watch the sunrise with no obstacles in his way.  He got to see more constellations at night than he ever had before, which he was absolutely bragging to Logan about later.  He could stand near the front of the ship and feel the wind on his face.  Shane was clearly amused by the way that it all amazed Roman, but it was too wonderful an experience for Roman to really be bothered by it.

When they finally landed for the first time it was in a town that Janus Picani apparently stopped often in.  Shane was docking the ship when Roman decided to bring up what he was thinking about.  He headed over to stand behind Shane.  “Sir?” he asked hesitantly.

“Roman, if you call me sir for the next two months I’m going to lose my mind,” Shane said as he glanced backwards.  “Just use my name for now.”

“Okay, Shane,” Roman said, even more hesitantly.  “I don’t think we should wear our Light uniforms while we ask for information.”

Shane gave him a suspicious look, and Roman took a step back.  “Why would we do that?”

“Well, um,” Roman put his hands behind his back so he could fidget as he spoke.  “When we first left no one was being very cooperative until I covered the Light symbol on my shirt with Patton’s hoodie.  I think people might be more willing to help if we didn’t tell them we’re from The Light.”

Shane gave him a look like he was being an idiot.  “There’s a Light insignia on the side of the ship, Roman.  Anyone who sees us stepping off is going to see we’re from The Light.”

“Well, yeah, but the people in town—”

“Roman, if you want to wear a cat hoodie everywhere, you be my guest.  I intend to have a little pride in the place where I’m from.”

“Oh, that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“We don’t have all morning to argue anyway, Roman.” Shane finished docking the boat and turned around.  “I’ll ask around here at the docks.  You can go talk to people in town.  We’ll cover more ground that way.  Can you be back here in a couple hours?”

Roman nodded.  “I can do that.”

“Excellent.  I’ll see you then.”

Roman grabbed his cat hoodie from his bag and slipped it on as he walked away from the ship.  He headed into the town, waving back to a couple people who waved to him.  One young child came up to him and happily told him she liked his cat hoodie.

“Thank you,” Roman said, smiling brightly at her.

“Sweety, we don’t bother strangers,” said a woman who must have been the girl’s mother, as she walked up to her.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Roman said, waving off her concerns.  “This hoodie belongs to a dear friend of mine, he made it himself and I’m using it while I’m traveling.  Here, I could write down a list of the materials he used.”  Roman pulled out a notebook and wrote down what Patton had used to make the hoodie, and handed it to the girl’s mother.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile.  “My husband is excellent at making clothes, I’m sure this would be no trouble for him.”

“I get a cat hoodie?” the little girl exclaimed happily.  “Thank you, mister!”  She threw herself around Roman’s leg, and he laughed.

“It’s not a problem at all,” he said, ruffling her hair.  “I would stay and try to help make it, but unfortunately I’m on a bit of a desperate journey at the moment.  I’m looking for my brother.  We’re identical twins, so he looks just like me.  He’s also traveling with Janus and Virgil Picani.”

“Oh, you should ask Remy then,” the woman said, pointing across the street.  “They delivered to his shop about a week ago.  And I highly recommend his Coffee.  He finally got it to work.”

“I wanna try his Coffee!” the little girl complained.

“He says it’s not for kids, sweetheart,” the woman said, patting her child on the shoulder.  “Good luck on catching up with your brother.”

“Thank you.  I hope your husband does well with that hoodie!” Roman called, waving as the two walked away and heading towards the shop across the street.

A bell jingled over the door as Roman opened it, and a man at the counter glanced up.  “Hey babes, what can I help you— oh.  What are you doing back here, Remus?”

“You’ve seen him?” Roman said, brightening.  “Oh, sorry, that was weird.  Remus is my twin brother.”

The man, who must have been Remy, nodded in understanding.  “Oh, gotcha.  Oh, I see it now, no mustache.”

“Yeah.  Thanks,” Roman muttered, resisting the urge to rub at the spot over his lip.  That had always bugged him.  Why did only Remus get a mustache, they were identical twins.  “Do you know which direction he went?  I’m trying to find him.”

“He left without telling you?” Remy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh.  He was in trouble,” Roman said.  “Someone back home was threatening him.  I’m trying to find him because the problem’s been taken care of now.”

Remy nodded slightly.  “Yeesh.  No wonder he had that panic attack.  Babe’s gotta be under a ton of stress.”

Roman’s mouth went dry.  “What happened?” he asked.

“Oh shoot, you probably didn’t know that,” Remy said, laughing a little awkwardly.  “Yeah, that happened.  Don’t worry, he’s fine.  Virgil and Janus showed up after like a minute.  Good thing too, I had no clue what to do.  Hey, while you’re here, you want some Coffee—”

“Do you know which way they went?” Roman asked hurriedly.

Remy gave him a confused look.  “Yeah.  They’re making their rounds?  I think they’re coming back here in three months or so with more supplies for my Coffee.  Oh, and weapons I guess.”

“I don’t have three months,” Roman said, still a little stuck on the panic attack part.  Virgil and Janus showed up.  Roman wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but Remus could be hard to deal with during panic attacks.  And if he was being kept prisoner, Janus and Virgil the rebellion members probably didn’t care too much about that.  Was this Remy person really so heartless that he wouldn’t care what they did as long as they took Remus away?  Why the hell did everyone hate people from The Light so much?  “I need to find him as quickly as possible.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Remy said with a shrug.  “You can follow their travel route.  Do you want to buy some Coffee or not?”

Roman sighed.  “Alright,” he said.  “I’ll try some Coffee.”

Remy smiled brightly and walked into a back room, likely to get whatever the hell Coffee was.  He came back out a second later with a mug of some kind of dark liquid and passed it over to Roman.  “First try is free,” he said.  “Every following cup is ten each.”

Roman took a moment to consider how full of himself that made Remy sound as he picked up the mug and took a sip.

He immediately pulled back.  “Fuck that’s bitter,” he said.

“Yeah, I know.  I’m debating adding sugar.  But the drink should wake you up.  Give it a couple minutes.”

“Uh-huh,” Roman said, taking another drink just to avoid pissing Remy off.  He drank a couple more mouthfuls, which was about all he could stand, before he passed the cup back to Remy with a thanks for the drink and his help, as if either were particularly valuable.  At least he knew Remus had been here.

He pulled off his cat hoodie once he arrived back at the docks.  Shane was waiting over by the boat, and stood up from where he was leaning against a crate as Roman approached.

“Roman, finally.  Help me load these crates on board.”

“Sorry, this shopkeeper wanted me to try his shitty drink,” Roman said, wrinkling his nose.  “It was so incredibly bitter, I do not recommend it.”

“Noted,” Shane said, raising his eyebrows.  “Did you manage to get any information?”

“Oh, yeah, that same shopkeeper had seen Remus,” Roman said, moving to pick up a crate.  “He’s apparently a frequent stop when Janus and Virgil are making rounds.  He still wouldn’t say any of the travel path out loud, though.”

Roman carried the crate on board and set it down with an irritated sigh.  His least favorite thing about the outside world so far was that everyone seemed to know about Janus and Virgil Picani’s travel route but never said it out loud.  It was like they expected him to know it.

Roman gave that a moment of thought.  Maybe they did all know it.  They probably just refused to mention it around Light soldiers.  It would certainly make sense with how uncooperative they all were.  God, he couldn’t imagine how awful it was for Remus to have no idea where he was.  If he was a prisoner they probably wouldn’t even let him see the stars.  He must be so disoriented.

Roman finished carrying the rest of the crates on board as Shane bought them both some lunch, noting how they should have at least one fresh meal before they had to start eating out of crates again.  Roman sat on the far side of the ship and ate his sandwich while looking out at the sea.

Shane sat down next to him after a moment.  “You alright, kid?”

“I’m… worried,” Roman admitted.  “And pissed.  I’m not really sure who to direct that second one at yet.  I don’t want to think Remus is a traitor.”

“But a lot of signs are pointing that direction?” Shane asked, sounding surprisingly sympathetic.

Roman glanced over at him.  He didn’t really want to think about it.  He tried to think about Remus as a prisoner because it was the better alternative.

…Right?

“It’s alright,” Shane said.  “He’s your brother.  It’s natural to care about him.  Even if he turns out to be a traitorous screw-up.  As usual,” Shane finished the last part in a mutter, taking another bite out of his sandwich.

Roman sighed.  “I know the kind of reputation my brother has, okay?  Believe me.”  He took a bite of his own sandwich.  “But I don’t think he’d betray anyone.  He tries really hard.  He’s just… accident prone.”

Shane chuckled.  “Tries really hard, huh?  I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Roman sighed.  He doubted he was actually going to get anywhere in this conversation.  Most people didn’t really seem to believe in Remus, and he wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t make it hard for him to believe in Remus sometimes.  He loved his brother, and he wasn’t going to start out by believing that Remus was a traitor, but the idea that he was kidnapped by two high ranking rebellion members didn’t seem to make a ton of sense.

He supposed it didn’t really matter in the long run.  He was going to get Remus back either way, it was just whether or not he would hug the living daylights out of him or smack him upside the head that was yet to be determined.

Roman ate the last of his sandwich and looked up towards the sky, trying to puzzle out the way he was feeling.  He didn’t really get anywhere before Shane said they had to go, and he stood up to go help fly the ship.

Chapter Eight

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #pirates #rebellion #angst #abuse #tw abuse #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #my fic

[lovelysugawara]

Love me Again

Kuroo X Reader Fanfiction//

**y/a = Kuroo Hinari  (sorry I don’t use Y/N, i just made up names) **grammatical errors ahead, sorry guys** plot: you and Kuroo are married, but your husband turns cold over you, because of an incident a year ago. Will he once again love you back???

Cont... 

Part 5

*Yaku’s POV*

Okay, what just happened? I’m already getting pissed so early. Am I always like this when it comes to Kuroo. I know we always argue about some random things when we are still in high school, but now, I kinda want to beat his ass.

Kai nudged me on my side when he noticed I’m glaring at Kuroo. 

“What are you doing? Still mad at him? He might be joking over his wife.” He tried to whisper to me discreetly. 

“Joking? Will you ever joke your wife like that? And look at them. They are sitting far away from each other. And that ass is talking to some friends like he’s alone. Leaving his wife on the other side.” 

We are looking at Hina, she’s quietly sitting and sipping her drinks at the far side of the table. Shitty Ku- I mean Kuroo, is at the other side, talking to some alumni.

“What do you think is happening?” Kai can’t help but be worried too.

“I don’t know man. I’m more worried about Hina-chan.”

We all know what happened to them a year ago. I feel sorry for the both of them. I just hope it’s not the reason why he’s like that to her. 

I clearly remember how Hina confessed to him after graduation, and he feels the same and the two of them become mutual and date each other. 

What happened indeed?

I’m about to stand up and go to her, but Kenma is already sitting beside her. I saw them smile with each other. I’m just glad Kenma is already there to accompany her.

“Should we ask Kuroo about it? I’m kind of alarmed.” Kai is still worried while looking at his glass.

“Well, I guess let see how stupid he can get through the whole night.”

I can’t help but be mad at the reason I still don’t know. 

The party is in pull swing. I didn’t even mind how rowdy they are now. 

What I didn’t expect is for Kuroo to be this close to Alisa. They are talking as if they are best of friends and you can think of them as lovers.

“So, should we do something about it? It’s really weird.” Kai can’t help but want to get into the problem.

I am still contemplating, what if we are wrong, what if Hina-chan is fine?

I then stand up, and walk towards Hina.

Hina automatically looked up at me when I approached her.

“Yaku-san!! Thank you again for inviting us here to your house. And thank you for still ordering at my shop.” she brightly smiles at me.

Stop that Hinari, I know something is happening. I can see it through your eyes.

I can’t help but worry about her. I sat down besides her.

I sighed. Even Kenma who is busy on his phone looked at me after hearing my sigh.

“Yaku-san?”

“Hina,are you two okay?” And there I dropped the bomb.

She was stunned. I felt her stiffened. 

“W-what do you mean? O-of course, we are okay. There’s no problem.”

She then smiles at me once more.

Even Kenma is looking at her.

I don’t blame her for hiding the truth. She doesn’t want to ruin her cocky bastard husband’s name.

“You sure? But are you okay with him being like that?”

We all looked at where Kuroo is, he was still talking to Alisa like they are the only people here.

Hina looked away, “H-he probably wants to catch up with her. Y-you know, she’s been away since she’s a model, right?” 

Excuses. 

She’s bothered by it. I can see it clearly on her movement. 

She’s clutching her chest and her other hand is on her dress latching on to it.

She doesn’t want anyone to know that she’s hurt. I understand. 

From long ago, I know she can endure pain, but I hope not like this. 

I stand up.

“Since you say that, i guess i won’t worry about you. Kenma.”

I looked at him, “Make sure to take care of her tonight. That guy over there might be useless later on.” 

Kenma, like how smart he is, understands what I’m saying and nods. 

*Kenma’s POV*

I’m getting mad. Really mad that I want to curse Kuro at the moment.

And how do I even ask Lev to take her sister far away from Kuro, when he doesn’t understand my gestures to him.

Hina are getting a lot of weird stares, because of how her husband acts tonight.

I can’t just ask her to interrupt the two, can I?

So I stood up and walked towards Kuro and Alisa, I didn't look back when Hina called me. 

Both Kuro and Alisa are closely talking with each other, I don’t even want to confront them, but I have to do this.

“Kuro.” 

The two of them looked at me in an instant, “K-kenma!” 

“What are you doing?” I directly asked him.

Kuro looked at me, like asking me what I’m talking about, come on dude don’t pretend to be stupid in front of me.

Alisa on the other hand wondering what I’m saying.

“Kozume-san, long time no see.”

“Hmn.” I can just nod at her.

Then I looked back at Kuro. 

“What do you mean?” I wanted to punch him.

“Kuro, your wife is sitting there alone. Do you mind? And Alisa-san, Lev is looking for you.” I can only think of that excuse so that Alisa won’t feel awkward about this.

“Oh, Lev does? Okay then, and I’ll greet Hina-chan later. See yah Kuroo-san.” she walks away to where Lev is.

Then I look at Kuro who is still sitting in the chair.

“What are you waiting for? Hina is waiting.” I didn’t wait for his answer and walked back to Hina.

Hina on the other hand, after seeing both of us walking towards her, once again becomes nervous and alert. She can’t even look at him.

“I picked him up, mind to at least hold his hand so he won’t go away?” I said that after I settled myself on the chair once again.

Kuro sits down beside her too. “You’re overreacting, Kenma.”

“H-how is A-alisa-chan?” She awkwardly asked Kuro.

“Still the same, so- and so.” He talks as if he didn’t have any interest in telling her anything.

Tsk.

“I’m glad she comes here despite being busy.” Hina smiled.

Kuro didn’t answer back and just looked at the people around.

Hina holds her hand, I know she felt awkward. She hates the silence her husband is giving her. 

How come you talk nonsense with Alisa and not talk to your wife?

The dinner is ready, and we are settled at the long dining table. The tables consist mainly of the Volleyball club members. And it is still as noisy as ever. I’m sitting next to Hina. 

Yaku’s wife started to serve us dinner with their lavish foods and desserts. I don’t know why they cooked a lot when I couldn't even finish a serving. Of course lots of us can’t eat a lot right?

“You should eat a lot today, Kenma.” Kuro despite sitting on the left side of Hina still like a repetitive mother about my eating habits.

“Shut up Kuroo and just eat your damn food.” I just get a small portion of whatever is in front of me. Hina also started to eat and she looks like she’s enjoying it. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat lots, you love the rest of the food on the table?” I noticed how small her servings are. She likes to eat way back if I’m correct. But is she holding herself?

“Oh, well I’m on a diet, Kenma.” she awkwardly smiles at me.

“Kenma, just let her do it. Or soon all her clothes won’t fit on her anymore.” Kuroo smirks.

Hina stops her fork mid-air and stops eating the fish.

“What are you talking about, she’s slim as ever. Is she even eating properly?” I angrily asked him. Because she never becomes fat or whatever.  

“I-I’m actually gaining weight these past few weeks, that’s why. Also, I’m not that hungry, Kenma.” Hina then pushes her plate away from her.

But you haven’t eaten the half of that small portion you get. She just smiles at me. 

Kuroo on the other hand didn’t say anything but still looked far away as he ate. 

As we continue the dinner.

“Wow. Yaku-san, the food tastes really good. I can’t say anything, but it’s perfect!” Kai can’t help but compliment the food.

“Ha ha, thank you. Well my wife prepares it all. Isn’t she amazing?” his wife who sits beside him smiles. 

“Yeah, the meat is so tender and it’s like it’s from a high quality restaurant.” Kuroo said and I’m shocked because he rarely compliments food.

“Oh that meat you’re saying is Alisa’s cooking!” Yaku informed us.

“Right, onee-san cooked some for tonight’s party.” Lev said while he still continue to eat.

Kuroo suddenly brightens up his facial expression. 

“Wow! That’s why! Alisa-chan is also a good cook huh?” Kuroo complimented her.

“Stop it Kuroo-san.” Alisa is all blushing because the whole team praises her cooking.

I almost joined them but I remember I didn't taste it because I’m so focused on the dessert rather than the main dishes. 

And also, Hina. Her expression is so unhappy. 

She keeps on glancing at Kuroo who is still all praising Alisa.

I saw her fidgeting, and couldn't relax.

I lean closer to her and whisper. 

“Your cooking is still the best for me.” She instantly looks at me and laughs a little.

“I’m just glad you didn’t have an upset stomach.” she whispered back.

And we both laugh.

Her attention immediately returned to Kuroo when he suddenly said something.

“I guess my wife needs to learn a thing or two to Alisa. She’s very bad at her cooking. I almost ate burnt food when she cooked and I can’t help but order a take out. She’s very terrible at it.” 

Kuroo didn’t stop what he’s saying. 

Everyone on the table fell silent and instantly looked at Hina, who is currently shaking, and fighting how embarrassed she is.

Everyone is expecting her to react to her husband's comment.

I saw how her smile fades away after Kuroo made that remark. 

How can you shane your wife like that? 

Everyone felt the awkwardness. And I’m about to tell Kuroo how rude he is, until Hina laughs a little. 

“Come on, love! I’m trying my best to cook for you! Just give me time okay?” she patted Kuroo’s shoulder. She’s all smiling and assuring everyone that she’s not offended.

“Whatever.” Kuroo coldly shrugged his shoulders as he continued to drink his glass.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to go to the washroom.” Hina left the dining hall smiling. As if her teary eyes will escape my attentive eyes. 

Hina is no longer at the dining hall, when Yaku says something.

“That’s very rude of you, Kuro. I didn’t expect you to tell that.” Yaku points at Kuroo using his fork. 

“What? What did I say?” Kuroo acts all innocent.

Yaku is clearly pissed now, “You should mind your language about your wife. You embarrassed her, man!”

“What? I’m only telling the truth. What’s wrong about that?” Kuroo’s reason wants me to just shut him up.

“I don’t know what the problem is, but I hope it won’t come back to you, jerk!” Yaku is not acting all cool now.

“What did you say?” Kuroo’s face is kind of angry now. 

I didn’t expect Yaku-san to speak what’s on my mind. So i guess it’s not only me who noticed his attitude towards his wife.

“Guys please, let’s not fight here, okay? Let’s all calm down.” Kai managed to calm them down. 

I sighed. I can’t stand being here. 

I looked at the door where Hina goes, and she still hasn't returned yet. 

I guess I have to follow her. In case she’s crying.

I didn’t bother excusing myself, I just stood up and went out of the dining hall. 

*Hina’s POV*

I almost can’t breathe, I can’t let my sobs echo here in the bathrooms because some of our classmates are here fixing themselves.

I cried myself out. Embarrassed by what Tetsu said.

I know, I know I’m not a good cook. I know that from the start, and Tetsu even said before that it’s okay that I’m not that good at cooking, because he didn’t marry someone to make her his own cook.

Yet now, he even called me a terrible cook.

I don’t understand him anymore. Why is he so cold to me? Did I do something wrong? Did I anger him?

Now I don’t know if I can still come back to the dining area. I know my face is a mess now and I don’t want them to see me breaking down. 

Tetsu is still their captain, his reputation is still the priority. 

But what about mine? I sob silently. 

I love you Tetsu, but until when do I need to suffer for you to heal that wound?

I’m so sorry our baby died. 

I’m so sorry for being not enough.

I’m so sorry for not being perfect.

Please don’t leave me for someone else.

The only image that runs through my mind right now is Kuroo running away with Alisa.

**A/N updates every FRIDAY..**

#kuroo testuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo fanfic #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo angst #kuroo haikyuu #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! #Kenma Kozume #yaku morisuke #noboyuki kai #lev haiba #alisa haikyuu

[stardew-vxlley]

are you going to kiss me or not?

summary: winter is a tough time for the farmer. when shane finds her worrying about her animals refusing to eat, he decides to lend a helping hand. 

pairing: shane x fem!farmer

word count: 1.9k

“Good morning my precious children!” the farmer sang aloud, ducking her head as she entered into the small coop to make sure her chickens were fed. They huddled together in the far corner, watching her wearily. 

Her eyes flickered to the untouched hay that sat in the feed trough. Frowning, she knelt down in front of the little mob of animals, reaching out a tentative hand. 

“Why aren’t you guys eating?” she cooed at them, trying to pet at least one of them. They shied away from her hand, clucking angrily. The farmer sat back on her heels with a frustrated sigh and scratched her chin. Her chickens bobbed and pecked at the wooden floor, but refused to touch their hay. 

She got to her feet and inspected the hay, suspicious. Maybe it was tainted. After finding nothing immediately wrong with it, the farmer sighed again and looked back at her chickens. 

“I’m going to go talk to Marnie,” she told them, exiting the coop. 

The farmer trudged through the fresh snow that had fallen overnight. It was midday, and already there were large, grey clouds looming ominously in the distance that promised another storm later this evening. She shivered as she reached Marnie’s ranch, stomping the snow off her boots before entering the shop. 

Warmth greeted her happily as she closed the heavy wooden door behind her. However, Marnie wasn’t at the counter; the whole house was empty and quiet. 

The farmer approached the counter with uncertainty, pulling her woolen scarf from her neck. “Hello?” she called out. No one answered except the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. 

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. What was she going to do about her chickens? Nobody else knew animals as well as Marnie. With a heavy heart, she wrapped her scarf around her neck again and started towards the door, but her feet faltered once she heard footsteps on the wooden floorboards down the hall. Turning around, she was surprised to see Shane standing in the doorway with disheveled hair and dark circles underneath his eyes. 

“Oh--I didn’t think anyone was home,” the farmer said, suppressing a blush and fidgeting with the hem of her scarf. “I was looking for Marnie.”               

He blinked, as if finally registering that she was standing there in front of him. He awkwardly cleared his throat and tried--and failed--to casually lean against the doorframe. “She’s--uh, she’s not here. At pilates. With Caroline.” 

The farmer slapped a hand to her forehead as realization dawned on her. “It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?” she groaned.      

“All day,” Shane replied, picking at his nails. 

“Damn,” the farmer cursed, and crossed her arms. “Oh well...thank you for telling me.” She turned towards the door, preparing for the cold. 

“Did you need supplies or something?” he suddenly blurted out. “I can still ring you up for whatever you need.” 

She glanced at him over her shoulder. He looked like a lost puppy--eyes wide and open, despite the dark circles beneath them. 

“I, uh--I just needed some advice about chickens,” the farmer sheepishly admitted. “They haven’t been eating.” 

Shane perked up at the word “chicken”. “Not eating? That’s not good.” 

“No,” the farmer sadly agreed. “I can’t seem to figure out why. I leave fresh hay for them every morning...they just refuse to touch it. At first I thought maybe there was something wrong with the hay, but I didn’t find anything.” 

Shane scratched his chin. “Maybe I could come visit them and see if something else is wrong.” 

The farmer’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that would be amazing! Are you busy right now? I really could use your help.” 

His cheeks turned a shade of crimson at her words. “Uh--yeah, yeah--let me just, uh, get dressed. Be right back.” With that, he rapidly turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall, his heavy footsteps moving quickly across the wooden floorboards. 

The farmer stifled a giggle. She always had a soft spot for the awkward ones. 

He suddenly appeared again, dressed in a thick winter coat. “Okay,” he said breathlessly, “let’s go.” 

―

“I think I know what the problem is,” Shane remarked as the two of them crouched together inside the cramped chicken coop. He had been watching the flock of birds intently for what seemed like ages, eyes following their every move. “You need a heater in here.” 

“A heater,” the farmer said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I should have known!” 

“It’s alright,” Shane reassured her and patted her shoulder. “It’s your first winter. At least now you know.” 

“All thanks to you,” she looked over and smiled at him. “I really appreciate you coming over and helping me. It means a lot.” 

His ears turned pink. “Y-yeah, no problem.” 

“You really like chickens, don’t you?” 

“I do,” he replied, reaching out to one of them. It clucked lovingly and pushed its feathered head right into his palm, earning an impressed laugh from the farmer. 

“Chino doesn’t like a lot of people,” she told him as she watched him pet it carefully. “I think you’re his favorite.” At the sound of her voice, Chino bobbed away from Shane and bumped into her knee with a soft cluck. 

Shane chuckled, lifting his gaze to meet hers. “I think you’re his favorite.” 

The farmer’s heart suddenly began pounding in her ears. He was so close to her, she could feel his breath on her face and smell the faint cologne still sticking to the blue sweatshirt he wore underneath his coat. She blinked, eyes darting to his full lips--parted and soft. So close…

She hadn’t even realized she began to lean in towards him until she registered the shock on his face. 

“Oh--God, I’m so sorry--that wasn’t--I don’t know what I was doing--” she tripped and stumbled over her words as she fell away from him. 

Shane abruptly tried to get to his feet, resulting in his head slamming into the the top of the chicken coop. He swore and rubbed his head, trying to scramble away from her. “No--no, it’s alright--” 

“Shane, wait!” she called after him as he managed to finally escape the coop. He was already making a beeline towards the woods once she freed herself, boots stomping heavily in the snow. “I can explain!” 

“Don’t worry about it!” he threw over his shoulder as he grew smaller and smaller. “I’ll have the heater delivered later today!” 

“Shane!” 

And just like that, he disappeared through the treeline at the edge of the farm. With a frustrated groan, the farmer knocked the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Stupid--so stupid.”

―

True to his word, Marnie showed up a few hours later with not one, but two heaters. 

“One for the coop and one for the barn,” Marnie told her with a wink. “And don’t worry about paying me back right now. Just get it to me when you can.” 

“I can’t thank you enough,” the farmer said. “Did--did Shane say anything else to you when you saw him? Besides the heaters.” 

“Does he have something else to tell me?” 

The farmer bit her lip and turned her focus to the floor of her farmhouse. “No.” 

“He’s a tough one to crack,” Marnie said, forcing the farmer to look back up at her. “And you’ve made a lot of progress already...just give it time.” 

The farmer nodded. With a cheerful farewell, Marnie left the house, leaving her alone with only her thoughts and the sound of the cold winter wind outside. 

After a while, she got up and installed the heaters in the barn and the coop. Almost immediately, the animals’ attitudes changed as warmth spread through the wood. Her chickens began to eat their hay with gusto, earning a relieved sigh from the farmer. 

“I was worried about you guys,” she spoke aloud to them amidst the clucking. “You guys are lucky Shane loves chickens so much.” 

The farmer dusted her palms on her pants and left the coop. Through the dark clouds of the evening, the moon cast its light over the quiet, snow-covered farm as she began walking back towards the house so she could get some rest. As she climbed the steps tiredly, teeth chattering, she heard the unmistakable sound of boots crunching in the snow. 

Looking over her shoulder, her eyes went wide with surprise. Shane was trudging through the snow towards her house, looking downright miserable. 

“What are you doing out here so late?” she called to him as she hurried to his side. “It’s freezing!” 

“You’re out here,” he said pointedly, arching an eyebrow. 

The farmer scoffed. “I was putting in my new heaters, thank you very much. C’mon--I’ll make some hot cocoa and start a fire.” 

They reached her porch when he put out a hand to stop her. “Wait--I have something to say. I owe you an apology.” 

“No, it was my fault,” the farmer said as she shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“I shouldn’t have ran away.” 

“Can’t we talk about this inside?” she pleaded, pulling on his arm. “You know, where it’s warm?” 

Shane didn’t budge. He looked down at her, searching her eyes. She suddenly felt very small underneath his gaze, shrinking away from him. 

“You’re constantly in my head,” he said, raking a hand through his unruly hair. “All the time. At work, at the bar, at home--I can’t get you out of my mind.” 

“Shane…” the farmer sighed, but he held up a hand to stop her. 

“I’m not perfect,” he went on, closing his eyes. “I’ve been angry, sad, and confused for most of my life--but whenever I’m with you, I’m calm, happy, and everything just feels right.” He opened his eyes and stared at her, transfixed on her beautiful features.                  

“Well?” the farmer asked, crossing her arms. 

“Well what?” 

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” 

That was all he needed to hear. His lips were just as warm and soft as she had imagined as they pressed against her own, his arms snaking around her waist to pull her closer while her fingers reached up to tangle in his hair. There was something about the intimacy of the kiss that excited her, as if this was something that had been waiting for a long time to happen. 

All too soon, Shane pulled away, his hot breath fanning over the farmer’s face. She leaned back breathlessly, sweet, swollen lips parted slightly. He regarded her with such admiration that it made her blush. 

“Wow,” she finally murmured, reaching up to touch her lips. “That was--” 

“Incredible,” he finished for her, and he pressed his forehead against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

The farmer smiled and sighed in content. She inhaled his earthy scent mixed with cologne, never wanting to leave his embrace. But all good things must come to an end, and he gently pulled away from her. 

“I’ve gotta get back,” he said, reaching up and tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to tell you how I felt.” 

“I feel the same way,” she replied softly. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” he told her as his thumb grazed her cheek. “I can’t stay away from you for too long.” 

With another, more tender, goodbye kiss, Shane left her on the porch, disappearing again through the trees. The farmer stood there staring after him, left with only the sound of the winter wind whispering through the branches.

#stardew valley #shane stardew valley #stardew valley edit #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley fanfic #shane #shane stardew #shane x farmer #always shane #sdv #shane sdv fanfic #sdv shane #WOW #WOWOWOWOWOW

[ghostyprince]

And also, for @trashy-artist-here because you prompted something similar. I hope you both like this!!💕

On AO3

The building they're visiting this time isn't such a scary place in Shane's opinion, but then again, anything they have visited so far was tipping towards the gross, dusty, and way too old end of the scale rather than the spooky one.

Sure, it's a long-closed down prison. And sure, the may have tortured and treated the people there like absolute garbage back in the '30s but it's more heartbreaking than anything in Shane's opinion.

But of course, Ryan doesn't think so, he gets lost in his head, psyching himself up, until every shadow, every little scratching sound is making the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Not that Shane was looking at Ryan's neck. (Alright, maybe he was looking a little.)

The point is, he's jumpy as all hell, and Shane finds it terribly amusing as always. His shoe scrapes over some debris, and the sound is ear piercing in the quiet, bouncing off of the bare walls.

Ryan cries out, his whole body jerks and Shane can't help himself, he throws his head back, letting out a surprised laugh, although he may feel a little bad about it.

"You're such a piece of shit, Shane!" Ryan groans and Shane loves the way his face heats up, from embarrassment. "I bet you did that on purpose, stop freaking me out, jackass!"

"Stop freaking out then!" Shane wheezes, and pats Ryan on the back, he lets out a little snort when Ryan flinches again, just slightly.

"You're as tense as a stick, man. Or like the stick is stuck up your ass."

"Shane! Fucking can't you just—" Ryan cuts himself off abruptly and he freezes. It's enough for Shane's smile to fall too and morph into actual concern.

He looks in the direction Ryan is staring at, but all he sees is a bunch of dust flying everywhere like someone just rushed through the hallway that's across the one they're standing in.

Huh.

Maybe someone left a window open, his brain supplies. Yeah, that must be it. And that's the simple thought process that goes through Shane's head every time something "unexplainable" happens.

His brain explains it perfectly well.

Ryan's, on the other hand, it seemed to shut down and reboot again.

"Dude, did you see that?" He asks and Shane would laugh at the fact that they're slowly becoming one of those fake ghost hunters on TV. If only Ryan wouldn't look so genuinely terrified.

"It was a guy, he looked like a doctor. He was— he was fucking terrifying. Holy shit I hope the chest cam—" he starts fidgeting with it right away, and Shane takes note of how much his hand is shaking. "It must've recorded it, right? He was fucking covered in blood, please tell me you saw it! Shane!"

The rushed and panicked sound of his name snaps Shane out if his thoughts and he's reaching forward without thinking. His hands land on Ryan's shoulders, gently squeezing.

Shane feels how tense his muscles are under his fingertips but for once he doesn't think about what else those muscles could do with him. He tucks that away for later when it's less inappropriate.

"I didn't see anything Ryan, calm down," he says gently and that definitely doesn't have the desired effect. But Shane's stupid mouth keeps running because of course he never knows when to shut the hell up. "It must've been just—"

"No, shut up! You always fucking do this," Ryan interrupts him abruptly and the words die in Shane's throat. "Don't try to explain it away, I know— I know what I saw, I'm not crazy, Shane."

His voice cracks and Shane realizes he damn stepped in it now. He needs to fix this as soon as possible.

"Hey, I believe, you, of course, I do. But you need to breathe, alright?" He tries and Ryan snorts like he doubts that. Like he doubts Shane would ever see eye to eye with him on the subject of ghosts.

"Tell me that you consider the possibility of it being a ghost then," Ryan asks and Shane wonders when things went so wrong. Was he really such an asshole about the whole ghost stuff?

He must be quiet for too long because Ryan shakes his head slightly.

"Whatever let's just go back to the crew," Ryan says quietly, and he looks so disappointed, Shane wants to slap himself for being such an idiot. Before he could say something, however, there is a set of loud footsteps coming from behind them.

Like someone is running towards them.

Shane spins around, but he doesn't see anything, and he gets distracted anyway because Ryan's loud yelp drowns out the last of the footsteps.

Moments later, a solid body is pressing against Shane's, and he needs a few seconds to process that it's Ryan's.

Normally, he would find it funny, the fact that Ryan is trying to climb him like a fucking tree. But he's not laughing now, because the warm, firm press of Ryan's muscles sends his heart flying up to his throat.

Ryan's arms wound around Shane's waist, and their bodies are lined up from knee to shoulders, with Ryan's face buried into the dip of Shane's shoulder. And Shane feels very hot all of a sudden.

He does wrap his arms around Ryan's shoulders when his brain comes back online again, and Ryan lets out a soft little laugh, breathing right into Shane's neck. It does not help whatsoever.

"I'm sorry. That scared me so fucking much, I think I physically can't move."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here  alright?" Shane asks, voice nothing but a scratchy whisper. He's proud he could get that out at the very least and extremely grateful for Ryan's face being tucked into his shoulder because Shane would surely die from embarrassment if Ryan would notice how red he has gotten.

"I know," Ryan laughs, it's a shaky sound, and Shane's hold tightens around him instinctively. They stand there for a heartbeat or two in a tangle of limbs, before Ryan starts slowly extracting himself from the hug.

Shane thinks that's that. They had a nice little moment of comfort and they'll never talk about it again, right? It's how they seemed to do things lately. Get sappy and tender and never speak of it again.

Well, Ryan had something else in mind entirely.

He doesn't go too far, and before Shane could realize that, he's already reaching up, having to stand on his tippy toes to effectively bury his fingers into Shane's hair. And then he tugs.

He tugs Shane all the way down to his eye level and when their lips meet in long, undoubtedly sloppy but fucking wonderful kiss, Shane thinks he might just be possessed or dreaming or both.

The kiss is a mess of tongues and teeth and Shane's back is dangerously close to cramping and he can't fucking breathe.

And yet, he still dives back for more and an embarrassingly whiny sound founds its way out from the back of his throat when Ryan's fingers tighten in his hair briefly.

They're both trying to catch their breath when they finally pull away and Shane is glad he's not the only one affected.

The sight of Ryan's flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips, not to mention how dark his eyes appear to be even in the shitty lighting of the hallway.

That sight alone almost gets him to start kissing Ryan again but Shane can muster up some sort of self-control eventually.

Another make out session might be what they want right now, but it's most certainly not what they need.

The kiss doesn't get talked about, not even when they arrive back at their shared hotel room and take their respective showers to wash off the grime of the ancient building.

They exchange nothing more but quiet words about Unsolved, the shoot, about Watcher. Shane glances over at Ryan, watches him text their friends, and then stare at his chest camera — now discarded on top of Ryan's suitcase — like it personally offended him.

"Are you thinking about looking at the footage?" Shane asks, and Ryan is seemingly grateful he didn't have to be the one to break the awkward silence.

"Yeah, maybe," Ryan hums and then looks away with a sigh, right at Shane, unfortunately. Shane squirms under his gaze, slightly, but probably just enough for Ryan to notice. "I don't want to deal with it right now. I'm exhausted, this was just too much for today.

Shane only lets out a little noise of agreement, and he wonders if what they had done was too much, if Ryan has meant to include that also.

"Do you want to, maybe...?" Ryan trails off, nodding towards his bed and probably hoping that Shane will get what he means.

And well, Shane can be infuriatingly oblivious, but this, he understands. His mouth feels paper dry when he speaks. "Yeah, sure."

He stands, rubbing a hand down his face because he doesn't know what to do with them otherwise. He's already dressed in his pajamas — they both are, actually — soft sweatpants and worn-out cotton shirts; so it's not difficult to grab his pillow and climb into Ryan's bed, right next to him.

And that's when trouble begins because Ryan is taking his shirt off and Shane's heart surges so hard in his chest he almost thinks it will fall right out. Is it not enough to have to sleep with the possibly not-so-unrequited love of his life, but he has to be shirtless too?

Shane got cursed by whatever was or wasn't at that damn place he's sure of it.

"Uhh, if you mind I can put it back on," Ryan tells him because Shane had been staring like it's nobody's business.

"No, no you're fine. I mean it's fine." Shane chokes out and he's a little bit mad at himself for getting so flustered when it comes to guys he thinks are cute. Especially when it's Ryan.

Luckily, Ryan laughs, and even if it's kind of annoying, Shane happily takes that over the awkwardness.

Shane speaks, quietly, after they turned the lights off, and got under the covers. The bed is fairly small, so Shane really had to huddle more close to Ryan than what they would've been comfortable with years ago.

"For the record, I don't think you're crazy."

"Well, that's good to know." Ryan laughs softly, but there is an uncomfortable undertone to it and Shane doesn't like it one bit.

"I'm serious, Ryan. I might not have the opinion it was a ghost, but you know I'd never think you're crazy. And if you think I would, well— I'm a shitty friend then, and I'm sorry about that."

"No, you're not, Shane. I think I'm just insecure. It's a whole other issue." Ryan admits and Shane is too curious for his own good.

"What other issue?"

"Do you think we should talk about what happened in the prison?" Ryan asks instead, not even being subtle about changing the subject and Shane decides to let it go for now.

"The kiss?"

"No, the fucking ghost— yeah the kiss, dude!" Ryan scoffs, and Shane has no brain to mouth filter apparently.

"It wasn't a ghost—"

"Shane, don't fucking start this again I swear—"

"Look I'm just saying—"

"Shut up, Shane!" Ryan wheezes, because they keep talking over each other and they're being so stupid. Shane wheezes with him and he suddenly feels like being bold. It's dark and Ryan can't see him too well, so fuck it.

"Shut me up then."

There is a beat of silence and then the rustling of sheets as Ryan is sliding closer to press his mouth hotly over Shane's again. Shane's hands find their way up on Ryan's back and there is a slight tremble to the movement when Ryan swipes his tongue over his. Shane is almost dizzy with it all, the available skin he's allowed to touch now, the smell of Ryan's shower gel. He almost feels like he's dreaming.

"We really should be talking about this," Ryan murmurs muffled by Shane's lips, minutes or hours later, none of them truly know at this point.

"S'fine, nothing to talk about." Shane rasps, trying to tug him back into another mind-melting kiss but Ryan snorts against his lips and it should be a little gross but Shane adores him too much to care.

"Shane, come on, we gotta. We're adults." Ryan reasons and nips at Shane's chin as he kisses his way down from his lips.

"Fuck being an adult," Shane scoffs but pulls away just enough to take in Ryan's flushed cheeks and bright eyes. And that smile, the sunshine smile Shane loves the most.

"Hard same but seriously. Is this just a hookup? What are we doing?" Ryan asks sheepishly and he looks so open, Shane wants to hide, to avoid being as open as Ryan is with him. Because ghosts might not spook him, but emotional vulnerability sure fucking does.

He has nowhere to hide though, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe if he throws all caution to the wind, things might turn out okay. He does it all the time, he did it when he agreed to do Unsolved with Ryan, and he did it when they were making Watcher.

"I really like you, Ryan. I don't know how not to sound like a teenager when I say this, but— well it's true." Shane says eventually, forcing himself to keep eye contact as his hold tightens in the fabric of Ryan's shirt. This is just about the most difficult thing he's ever done and look at him, he's powering through it like a champ.

"How about breaking the rules we established in the podcast and say I love you? What do you say to that, big guy?" Ryan suggests, softly, and Shane gladly watches the fear and anxiety dissolve from his eyes when he answers. They're both taking leaps of fate today it seems like.

"Fuck the rules, also."

Shane flips them over, making Ryan laugh and let out an exaggerated oof sound and then he's kissing Ryan again, Shane murmuring I love you back against Ryan's lips.

#shyan #skeptic believer #shyan fic #shyan fanfiction #fanfictions #prompt fill #prompt #i wanted to answer this as an ask but i broke it with the read more #thanks tumblr #trashy-artist-here

[aisling-beatha]

Words are for children [SFW]

A standalone story #4

The Walking Dead | Merle Dixon X Reader

Warning: Swearing

The Dixon brothers and you were inseparable. You were just a few years older than Daryl, but it always seemed like you were their little sister. For as long as you could remember the three of you, you always had each other’s back. Merle used to stand up for you in school when older boys tried to make fool of you, then Daryl used to miss his classes only to walk you safely home and you would always make up for them than your neighbors or Daryl’s teachers got particularly suspicious of his or Merle’s activities. Every once in a while the brothers would climb a tree next to your house to get into your room unnoticed. Well, firstly it was only Merle. Then, Daryl grew up and carried on with his brother’s routine. You didn’t really know how it all had happened and why, in the first place, but there you were, friends with the famous Dixon brothers.

When the outbreak started you stuck together, making your away out of the city. Merle and Daryl were skilled enough to hunt and orient themselves in the woods and there were no other people you’d trust your life to but them. Then, the quarry group happened. Merle and Daryl wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t want to rob those poor people and leave for the greater good. But you insisted on staying.

“Power in numbers,” you said, folding your arms and eyeing both of them.

They fought but eventually gave in, huffing and puffing. And that’s when the real problems began. Not like you didn’t know Merle’s or Daryl’s temper but it was literally impossible to make them nice to anyone in the group. Merle was making comments about every single woman in the quarry, bossing around, getting on everyone’s nerves, and Daryl was… Daryl was his usual himself. He glared everyone down, scowling and sneering whenever anyone tried to approach him. You didn’t expect him or Merle to greet everyone out there with open arms and hearts, but, damn, if they could at least try.

Soon enough though you had to do something about the brothers because them giving no shit about anyone else but themselves and, well, you, was simply disrespectful, keeping in mind that those people let you join them despite boys’ behavior. Your nerves failed you when Andrea told Shane (loud enough for you to hear) that she no longer could stand the three of you, especially “that damned pervert” around. And that’s when you couldn’t take it any longer.

“Hey! Watch your language!” you snapped at her. “Merle might be an asshole but he ain’t a rapist. He never laid a hand on a woman without her say-so. And he sure as hell never left anyone behind which is exactly what you’re trying to do!”

Andrea’s eyes went from you to Merle behind you, who froze in place mouth open, staring at your back. “He’s rough, but he and Daryl are what keeps you, people, alive, so goddamn respect that!”

“Why you’re trying so hard? Aren’t you… Aren’t you scared of them?” she asked cautiously.

“They’re the only family I left,” you shook your head, voice stern but no longer angry. “No longer gonna let anyone take that from me.”

“And what happens if they decide to take advantage of you?”

“Then that’s gonna be my fucking problem, not yours,” your hard eyes met hers. “And I’m gonna deal with that myself.”

And that’s how it went. You stayed. Merle talked to you the same evening in the tent the three of you shared.

“Hey, Bunny?”

The nickname he had given you when you had been in school stuck with you even in your adult life. You were so used to it that it almost felt like home.

“Ya didn’t hafta do tha’ today” he mumbled, looking for your eyes.

“Of course, I did” you grumbled, untying your boots, not really looking at him.

“Nah, could’ve handled that m’self.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed.

Arguing with Merle was as pointless as trying to catch a bird with a shovel. The man had the most stubborn ass you ever heard of.

Merle was lying on his back, hands under his head, when he eyed you carefully. He had one of those expressions on his face that you couldn’t particularly read.

“Why ain’t ya scared?”

His question caught you off guard as you stopped fidgeting with the buttons on your shirt. You looked over Daryl looking for some kind of explanation but he lowered his eyes, pretending to be extremely interested in a particularly green spot on the ground. You knew that expression of the younger brother too well. Whatever it was, it made Daryl annoyed and insecure, and you hated seeing him like that.

“Da fuck?”

“Wha’? The bitch had a point. Don’t know how ya still put up with us” Merle shrugged trying to look indifferent.

“Don’t you dare, Dixon!” you growled, clicking your fingers to catch his attention. “You ain’t never laid a hand on me, neither did Daryl,” you nodded toward him, receiving a small nod of his in response. “We���ve been together for ages. Don’t you start that shit again.” You shoved his shoulder hard enough to prove your point.

“Whateva ya say, sweetheart,” Merle grinned, lifting his hands in surrender. He turned on his side, facing you, but before he could grab your hands, you took a step back, eyeing him seriously.

“I’m not scared of you. But you gotta stop it, Merle. I don’t want to lose you or Daryl just because you can’t shut your mouth.”

The man sobered up, sharing a long look with his brother before he nodded. “Ain’t gonna promise ya nothing but ‘m gonna try.”

*** Everything was going too fast and you barely had time to reflect on whatever was going on. When the CDC building blew up, you felt both of Dixons covering your body with theirs. The impact-wave was too strong and you were too close, so even being buried under the men’s bodies you could feel the wave of heat burning your skin. You wondered how the brothers could stand the same heat burning their backs and arms. Neither of them complained and it made you feel weak. After all, you were supposed to take care of them too.

Then on the road, you could have and you most certainly would have died if it wasn’t for them. Leaving the Greene farm with Merle on his bike, you were clutching into his shirt, holding for dear life, praying to whatever God to keep the three of you and the others alive. Daryl made it out on the truck, following suit. The brothers didn’t let you go after that night. One of them was always by your side, keeping an eye on you, watching. The three of you were like an anchor to each other, keeping the other two from falling to pieces.

It was so much like it was before. The three of you against the world. Well, against the dead now. And you weren’t exactly alone. The group slowly got used to one another, creating strong and lasting relationship. You became friends with all of them. And truth to be told, it simply couldn’t have turned the other way. Back on the road, you had to have each other’s backs more than once. It was «one for all and all for one” kind of shit. And you couldn’t be happier than you found the prison. Except, well, Merle.

He couldn’t get used to people around him, which was understandable. Dixon had a temper. The man deserved some credit, he was trying, but it turned out not to be enough. He was scaring the shit out of most of the group, let alone having constant trust issues. Everyone expected him to come swinging a rifle one day, frightening or, worse, killing people. It hurt you too. You tried to prove people wrong but what was the point if Merle did exactly the opposite, starting another heated fight over and over again. The man was under no control. Daryl, luckily, turned out to be okay. He got himself close bonds with Rick and Glenn and no longer looked like a beaten dog, thrown out on the street. The man was socializing, which made you feel proud of him. Daryl was more reserved than his brother, but he wasn’t as rough. And you’d be damned if you didn’t feel happy for him. Finally, your friend was finding his place in the world. Daryl was no longer a boy but a man. Not like you ever treated him differently anyway.

Those changes didn’t mean you drifting apart from one another. You were still stuck together but giving the other one enough freedom to be on their own. And that’s what Merle seemed to love the most, once the group had arrived at the prison. Being alone. He became rougher, snapping at you with and without a particular reason, still glaring everyone down, and scowling. You knew the symptoms. He distanced himself and it was on you to bring him back.

During the dinner time, you’d join him out in the open, sitting in the bed of his truck, silent for most of the time. Not like he minded or anything. But you could practically see the wheels turning in his head. You could feel it.

“Stop it, Merle. You’re thinking too loudly” you snorted, nudging him.

But despite your trying to ease the air, the man would remain tensed up. He was like a wild animal, trapped in the corner, ready to fight to the death. It was painful to watch him and neither you nor Daryl could make him open up. Weeks later, though, he showed up in your cell (it was the closest to the porch where the brothers slept).

“Bunny?”

And you talked. Well, Merle was talking while you were listening to him. The man talked non-stop about everything and nothing at the same time as if he needed the moment like a dying man needs air. He was trouble. That’s what he told you. Not only the place made the darkest memories of his life come flooding back but the people were judging. Again. It just became too much to bear. He was a damn mystery to himself, and he felt like he had let both his brother and you down. Which couldn’t be any farther from the truth. Merle saved you. How could you ever ask for more?

When you brought him to sit next to you among the others at the dining table for the first time, everyone fell quiet. Merle stiffened, jaw tight, glaring at everyone with hatred as if he expected the worst. You hand on his hip, and a tight nod was all that kept him away from storming off of the room. But slowly, minute by minute, the conversations were back, everyone acted like nothing was off. Though, you could still feel Merle tensing up under you soothing touch, side-glancing you every once in a while. But he was trying.

“He ain’t gonna change,” you were telling Rick later. “Unless you change the way you treat him. Merle and Daryl had a tough life, they saw shit. More than you could think of. They had shitty past but that don’t mean they’re bad people. Look at me, Rick. I’m alive because they were there, with me. Because Merle was there for me. You may not know how hard it is for him, but I do. Man, he’s trying. So why don’t you try too?”

It took another few months for your people (as you referred them to) to find common ground with the Dixon, and for Merle, well, to gain some trust. He was doing his best, learning to actually communicate instead of fighting. Even Andrea, who was the first in line, demanding to send him off, started to tolerate him. Slowly but surely the man in front of you was changing.

*** Merle opened the gates letting the car in, before closing them back before any walkers could find their way in. Georgian sun had disappeared a long time ago, the days turned out to be grayer with every passing week. The prison was short on supplies, which required another group of four going out that morning. He stole the last glance at the forest, hoping his little brother would be smart enough to find his way back before the rain when he heard crying from the prison yard. Glenn was leaning on both Maggie’s and Tyreese’s shoulders, barely moving his legs. The three of them looked like they’d been through a blood bath or something.

Merle’s eyes frantically looked for you. You weren’t in the car, and something in the look of those three made his heart fall to his stomach.

“Where’s she?” he growled, looking from one to another. “Where’s she?!”

“Th-there was a…” Maggie started but Merle’s roar made her close her eyes as she tried to suppress her sobbing.

“Ain’t giving a shit wha’ happen’. Asked where’s she?!”

“There was a damn herd coming at us! She got separated. We tried to look for her but there were too many of them,” Glenn blurted out, voice becoming quieter with every word until it was no louder than a whisper. “I’m sorry, man.”

His heart stopped. Merle stood there, frozen in place, running his hands up and down his face, trying to shake it all off. Maggie’s cries became muffled when she pressed her face into Glenn’s chest. Though Merle thought his ears were stuffed.

He made his way to Glenn, barely holding himself from killing the damn kid. Instead, he came closer, his eyes never leaving the car behind the trio.

“Give me that gun!” he barked out.

Glenn was probably too shocked by a sudden change in man’s demeanor to react on time. But it was too late when Merle yanked the gun from the holster, shoving it behind his waistband, turning on his heels only to make his way back to the car.

“Merle!” someone shouted at him, but he’d be dead if he cared. His blood was boiling, resonating somewhere in his head, making his vision blurry. Or maybe it wasn’t just the pain.

Someone shouted about his bike, that was faster or something, but Merle was too occupied turning the old Nissan around, pushing the gas pedal to the ground, making his way to the gates. At that point, he wouldn’t really care if he rammed the gates.

At some point, he heard Glenn’s voice giving him the route. But the only thing that was going through his mind was that no way would he stop.

***

He hit the brakes so hard that the deafening whizzes of the wheels could probably be heard miles away. Not like he cared, again. Merle looked around, paying no attention to the walkers wandering nearby. He was looking for a mall, you had to be in when the herd had caught up with your group. It took him another five long and agonizing minutes to find it. The herd must have gone through, as there was no single soul, dead or alive.

For the second time in a day, Merle felt like suffocating on his own air. His heart was beating so fast, it was ready to explode in his chest.

The man made his way to the blockage at the end of the hall. It seemed that the beams had collapsed on the stairs, that couldn’t withstand the pressure. The bodies of the dead were scattered all over the floor, smeared and crushed by the fittings, some of them were still hissing and banging their rotten teeth, their dead eyes looking into the void.

A huge hole in the floor gaped in the middle of the room. Merle had to go to the very edge and squat down to see the remains of the bearing walls and the horde buried beneath them. His eyes fluttered restlessly over the ruins of what was left when his gaze accidentally caught hold of a painfully familiar shirt. He had given you this shirt on one of the cold nights, and he didn’t dare to take it back. Something was about seeing you wear it every day.

Merle jumped down, at the last minute thinking that he wouldn’t be of any use if he broke his limbs on these ruins. As soon as he came closer, even greater fear seized him, forcing him to freeze in place. A mixture of blood, rot, skin, and clothes covered your body and a soft growl from somewhere below iced his skin. It took him too much time to overcome the fear that sat somewhere under the ribs to climb down.

“Y/N?”

The growl didn’t stop, but something stirred under a pile of bodies. The walker lying on top plopped down on his side with a muffled clatter. Merle seemed to be doused with cold water. Your hands were covered with a layer of dirt, and your clothes were soaked in blood.

“Mer-Merle?”

Your voice, your gentle, but at the same time strong voice, which he so loved to listen to, was now no louder than a whisper. You opened your eyes with obvious difficulty, which inexorably started to ache from the dust that got into them. Pain fettered the body. You tried to turn your head to the sound of a familiar voice, fearing that that was just another game of your mind. However, rustling and chaotic curses proved the opposite. After a couple of seconds, Merle's face appeared in your field of vision. You called him again, feeling your body seizing with a tremendous tremor.

“Merle!” you cried, feeling hot tears burning your skin when the man placed his hand on the side of your face. He was kneeling down beside you, eyes wide in shock.

“Y/N… Shit, girl. Ya hurt? Ya better tell me ‘s not yer blood…” he mumbled, and you caught a hint of unhidden panic in his voice.

“No. it’s not. I-I had to cut it open so that they wouldn’t find me” you motioned to the walker next to you.

“Shit,” Merle cursed again. “Can ya stand up?”

You had to close your eyes and bite your lip, so as not to scream when you tried to rise, leaning on your forearms. A sharp pain pierced the spine, which immediately went to the numb arms and legs.

"I ... I don’t know. I tried to hide from the horde when the concrete flew down. I don’t remember what happened then, but I woke up here with walkers around. I must have fallen on my back ..." you sighed unevenly, trying to catch Merle’s eyes. “Don’t… Don’t leave me, please. God, Merle, just don’t leave me here.”

You were crying not really registering anything around when Merle started shushing you down. His hands went to grab your face, making you look at him. You stared in his ocean eyes, your own eyes red from both crying and soreness at the same time.

Merle wasn’t smiling, wasn’t talking, he just looked back at you, before whispering. You couldn’t remember his voice so soft and uneven, as he leaned closer to you, whispering, never looking away. “I’m sorry. Fuck, girl…”

Merle stood up, but only to grab you by your shoulders and stick his hands under your knees. He intended to bring you back no matter what it cost him. But he wasn’t ready for your painful moan escaping your lips when he lifted you from the concrete slab. You grabbed his broad shoulders, nails digging into the skin. It took Merle himself a minute to calm his frantically beating heart and suppress the urge to scream at the hopeless feeling in his heart. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he simply had no choice.

His every step was sending flashes of pain throughout your body. Merle saw the pain settle in your facial features. You were on the edge. The pain was so unbearable that you were afraid to lose consciousness at any second. The man’s hands pressed your body to his chest more and more, and he never stopped whispering. At some point, one his careless movement made you cry out from the renewed pain, and you had to press your face into his shoulder to at least somehow muffle your cry. There were still walkers in the building, and by the way Merle quickened his pace, you realized that some of them got too close. The two of you were vulnerable now. And Merle wouldn’t be able to shoot unless… Unless he dropped you to the ground.

“Merle,” you pleaded quietly, looking behind him. “Get out, I-I’m… I’m slowing you down.”

Another low growl was his answer. He stopped for a second but only to have a better hold of you. “Ain’t happening.”

When he finally made it back to the car, your body felt too numb and too small in his arms. Your eyes were closed.

“Shit, girl, come on now. Open yer eyes, sugar.”

Merle carefully laid you on the back seats, starting the car, looking behind every once in a while. He hated that though but damn if he was glad that you’d passed out. The ride back home was rough and he tried his best not to go too fast so you wouldn’t fall from the seat but at the same time trying to get the two of you back to the prison as soon as possible.

The onset of the storm only worsened the situation. Behind the impenetrable darkness of the road, Merle can hardly see the holes. The probability of flying into a ditch was too great. The downpour began, mercilessly eroding gravel; small rubble flew into the windshield. Merle, no matter how much he was afraid for your life, was glad that you hadn’t seen this whole nightmare.

He only made it back hours later, and you still hadn’t opened your eyes. Merle was standing in the yard when Rick and Daryl took your pale, almost lifeless body from him. The rain was mercilessly beating in his face, but he didn’t care. He heard his brother calling him in but his voice seemed too distant. Strong gusts of wind carried raindrops in his eyes, and his clothes were wet to the skin. But then again, not that he cared. He was still standing; his eyes fixed in the dark sky above his head, and in his head was your voice, again and again, the voice full of pain and despair. His hands were covered in blood, and for some reason, the realization that this same blood was on your body hit him in the chest.

Merle closed his eyes, letting the heavy raindrops wash away all the anxiety and dull pain under his ribs. And a thunderstorm lit the western part of the sky.

*** You walked down the stairs leading outside the building, breathing in the frosty air. The prison yard was covered with a thin layer of snow that was glistering in the sunset light. Rainy days changed to cool late-autumn days, the weather finally giving in.

You shivered under the blow of wind creeping under your sweater and readjusted the tight bandages under your chest. You looked about, sneaking from the stairs, heading to the lonely figure at the fence.

“Whatcha doin’ here, Bunny? You’s gonna catch a cold.”

Merle must have heard you by the snow crunching under your boots. He turned to meet you with a deep frown. You smiled uncertainly in response, leaning on the nearest wall to ease the pulling feeling in your tailbone. Herschel performed a real medical miracle, practically pulling you out of the other world. The impact of falling onto the concrete was too strong. You were incredibly lucky to stay not only alive but also with normally functioning limbs. Damaged caused by such a fall could not only lead to numerous fractures, but also paralysis.

“I won’t. Just needed some air,” you murmured, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hershel’s been keeping me locked inside for over a month now, I’m getting sick of those walls.”

The man’s eyes remained just as cold as he turned away from you, looking into the distance.

“Ya catch a draft and that back of yours ain’t gonna heal.”

Merle turned his back on you. There was something in his pose that made you nervous. For over a month, he was cold to you, getting away by a few words and grunts, which made him look a lot like Daryl. But if the latter spent more and more time with you while you were literally bedridden, talking about hunting and supply runs into the city, then Merle limited himself to visiting you in the morning, asking about your well-being and disappearing for the rest of the day. The rest of the group soon helped you to catch up to what was going on by telling that the elder Dixon was not his own self when he had returned with your body in his arms. He shut off. His ocean eyes suddenly turned gray and dull, as if on that fateful day for you a piece of himself died. There was an emptiness, devouring him from the inside

“Hershel said I’ll be able to get to work in less than two weeks,” you said out loud, hoping that Merle would hear you.

Before you managed to somehow react, the man was there. His hard eyes met yours, and perhaps for the first time in all the time you had known each other, you saw cruelty in them. Cruelty and pain.

“Like hell you are!” he snapped, leaning closer, making you gasp. “Ya ain’t doing shit without me!”

You quietly called his name, but Merle didn’t seem to hear you. He seemed to be in some kind of trance, almost in a comatose state. He jerked back violently when your palm fell on his chest, pressing gently where his heart was beating. His eyes softened a little, and Merle dropped his head helplessly on your shoulder. His hands clung to the wall behind you, and for a second it seemed that you could distinctly hear the thud of a blow when his fists connected with the surface.

“Gotta take care of ma woman,” he mumbled.

“Is that what I am?” you asked softly, pressing him tightly into you, looking in front of you.

“Huh?”

“Your woman?”

Merle moved away, shifting awkwardly, looking away. You saw him biting his lip hard, looking away before he finally looked back at you. He lifted your chin with his index finger and cupped you face, watching you nuzzle into his touch.

“Listen, sugar. I know I ain’t a good man fer… Don’t –“ He cut you off when you tried to protest. “ – Listen. I know I ain’t a man ya deserve. Shit, girl. Ya’ve been putting up with our crap longer than I dare to remember and I ain’t never thanked ya. I’s no good fer ya, never been. But I know I’m better with ya around. Ya make me a better man. ‘s what they say, ya know…” he trailed off, looking away. “And I… I can’t promise ya nothing, sweetheart, but I wanna try to be a better man fer ya. If ya let me…”

He watched your eyes fix on him, before you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his and closed your eyes.

“Dixon…”

He didn’t dare to move closer, feeling himself go numb. Merle closed his eyes, breathing in slowly, letting the heat radiating from your body engulf him. All the anxiety penned up for the past month finally found its way out as he let himself be absolutely honest and vulnerable in front of you.

“Had I known that shit would make you open up, would have gone missing sooner.” You soft chuckle actually made the man in front of you blush.

“Ya know it better, sugar,” he mumbled. ”Ain’t good with ‘em words.”

“Words are for children, Merle.” You moved away, looking into his eyes for the last time, before turning and heading back to the prison. He followed you with a worried look, not knowing how to read your reaction.

“You gonna stay there and freeze your ass off? Come on, Dixon, take my hand,” you snorted at him.

A stupid smile crept across his face as he stared at the hand you held out to him. Well, now, he definitely was going to try harder. He’d just got a reason to.

TAG LIST (let me know if you want to be (un)tagged) 

@daryldixonandfrogs

@1950schick

#the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #merle dixon #daryl dixon #merle dixon imagine #merle dixon x reader #merle dixon x you #reader #you #standalone #fanfiction

[nori-king]

i. no halo / personal

“the dust and dirt blind us slowly, but give a hint of a view to make it feel alright. and though it hurts, we keep on climbing. ‘cause our addictions take us from inside. a sturdy back, but brittle bones. too weak to show.”  –  KILL OUR WAY TO HEAVEN, MICHL

Wednesday, May 1st 2019, 6:17PM Wexler-Carsons Psychotherapy Practice

It came unexpected, a faint knock at the door to Eleanor’s office. She’d been so engrossed in reading her new patient’s file over and over again that she almost missed it. But sure enough, her head snapped up just as the door opened. She was disappointed to find her colleague, Shane, rather than the boy she’d been expecting for 17 minutes, now. “Nori... are you seriously still waiting on him?” he inquired as he readjusted his satchel on his shoulder. All he got in response was a soft sigh from the blonde-haired woman. “Look, it’s been seventeen minutes, just accept that your Moon boy’s a no-show and come out with us, we’re all heading down to that new Italian joint, the one that just opened? Heard their chicken parm is out of this world!” His enthusiastic mannerisms earned him a few laughs from his colleague. “Mhm, maybe you’re right, Shane. But sorry, I can’t tonight. I have a few things I need to tidy up in my office anyway, but I promise that I’ll go home after that, okay? I won’t wait a minute longer”, Eleanor hoped her words came across as sincere, a hopeful grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “Fine, you win this round, King. But I’m not giving up on you yet!” Shane winked, making her giggle some more. Just as she was about to tease him some, his head vanished from the door frame, hand still holding the door open. He popped it back in with slightly wider eyes. “Hey, uh... is there any chance your Moon boy is some angry-looking Asian kid?” Eleanor’s brows furrowed together, faint confusion clouding her features, but before she could wonder any more, the door flew open on that very same angry-looking Asian kid, who shoulder checked Shane on his way in. He barely spared the two therapists a glance and just went straight for the patient’s chair, removed his backpack and threw it on the ground. “Well... uh... I’ll leave you two to it, then. Goodnight, Nori”, was all Shane could provide her with as he closed the door on his way out. A deafening silence fell onto both Eleanor and her newest patient, only his heavy breathing being heard throughout her office.

“...I take it you’re Jaemin Moon?” She tried, getting up from her desk and stepping closer to settle down in the chair opposite him. The boy remained silent, eyes darting around the room as if looking for the nearest emergency exit. Eleanor took this opportunity to scrutinize his appearance.

He was wearing light grey sweatpants and an oversized, black long-sleeved shirt. His hair seemed disheveled, a light sheen of sweat glistening against his tan skin. His brows were knitted together in what she assumed was a perpetual frown, from his aura alone. She recalled his file saying he’d turned twenty this past September, so he was still young, and it was evident by his spotless complexion. His leg was bouncing incessantly, and Nori took mental note of it.

“I’m Eleanor, delighted to make your acquaintance”, she extended a hand his way, a peace offering of sorts, but was met with nothing but more of that same silence that had been looming over both their heads for the past five minutes. She sat back in her chair with a quiet breath and started mulling over the methods she could deploy to at least get a look from the boy; anything.

“I’m happy you’ve decided to show, but for future reference, fifteen minutes is my limit. This is your first time, so... I wanted to give you a chance, you know... make sure you didn’t get cold feet or anything. I know going to therapy can be a scary experience, but I’m happy you’ve decided to come-”, she rambled on until her client cut in.

“Oh, I didn’t decide to come. I was forced to come”, were the first words Jaemin aimed at her, eyes narrowed. Even if he hadn’t said anything inherently bad, his pointed timbre made all of his words sound like an insult. “For future reference”, he started, mocking her previous use of the saying, “I won’t be coming back, so might as well not waste both of our times, don’t you think?”

Eleanor’s mouth opened, a sentence on the tip of her tongue and ready to spill out, but she stopped herself and, instead, only got up to retrieve Jaemin’s file from the top of her desk. She flipped through it without any haste as she made her way back to him. “It says here that your mother called to make the appointment. But you’re twenty years old... you’re of legal age. If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to”, Nori tilted her head to the side a little, peering back at her patient.

“But I do”, he replied flatly.

“But you don’t”, she counterattacked, eyebrow quirked in sudden interest.

“You don’t know shit about my life, lady. I don’t wanna be here, who the fuck in their right mind would wanna sit here for an hour and be psycho-analyzed when they’re totally normal?” Jaemin barked back, and Eleanor took note of the way his hands clasped around the armrests of his seat.

“Totally normal like...” King trailed off, scouring further through his file. “Like talking back, being aggressive and instigating a fight at-” She cut her own words short, eyes flickering between Jaemin and his file. “A ball? Did you attend James Houston’s masquerade ball?” She couldn’t hold back a tiny grin at the thought. James just so happened to be someone Eleanor was entirely familiar with, someone she respected and admired. Jaemin knowing him could be her only link to him, or at least a good method to get him to talk.

“Listen, I’m allowed freedom of fucking speech, I don’t have to suck up to everyone I meet and I didn’t instigate shit at the ball”, Moon leaned back in his chair, and Eleanor didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched; this was a touchy subject.

“You’re absolutely right. I’m just reading off my file for now, but I’ll make my own conclusions as I get to know you more and more. Those were the concerns your mother shared with us when booking your appointment. Would you say they’re unfounded?” She brought the end of her pen to her lips, caressed them with it as she awaited an answer.

“I’d say I don’t fucking care what you, or her, think, Eleanor. How much longer do I have to be here?” The younger of the two was getting impatient, it was clear to see in the way he was fidgeting in his seat. He’d switched positions maybe three times in the span of ten seconds.

“Jaemin, your hour just began”, Dr. King glanced down at her watch, then back at him. “Fifty five minutes”, the declaration made her patient sigh deeply.

“Jesus fucking Christ, alright. Well... I showed up”, he conceded, letting his head fall back onto the backrest of his chair. Eleanor observed him quietly, unable to bite back a smile.

“You did. I’m glad you did”, she tried to be encouraging, but to no avail.

“That makes precisely one of us”, Moon fished his phone out of his pocket, sitting back up straight. He unlocked it and started typing away, and Eleanor had to admit, this was the first time a patient outright texted during a session.

“Jaemin...? Could you put that away, please?” Despite being annoyed, her tone remained calm, kind. She gazed back and forth between the boy and his phone when he made no movement whatsoever, didn’t even react to her request. “Jaem-”

“The fuck you want? I told you I don’t need this, I’m just here to satisfy my folks, that’s it. I don’t need to talk to you”, he didn’t even spare her a single glance, eyes focused on his phone’s screen.

“I can tell you believe this is pointless, but even the healthiest of people seek out therapy from time to time. It’s a good way to unload, and you seem to have a lot on your mind. I noticed you seemed uncomfortable when I brought up the ball-”

“You didn’t notice shit”, Nori’s patient hissed, and he’d put his phone down to glare at her. That was an improvement... sort of. It surely was better than silence.

“You said you didn’t care, but whatever happened there played a big part in our meeting, so I doubt it was as uneventful as you’re painting it out to be. What happened at the ball?” She tried to pry further, notepad securely in her hands.

“Nothing. Fucking. Happened. Will you just drop it? Who cares about the stupid ball?! It was a shit show. I didn’t have high expectations, and even then it still managed to go below them”, Jaemin threw his hands up in exasperation, his tone lower than before, maybe an unconscious attempt to seem more intimidating.

No matter how much he frowned, huffed and puffed, Eleanor wasn’t buying it. There was something so delicate, so gentle about his gaze, even if he’d done nothing but scowl at her during the entirety of their session so far. His eyes were dark, bordering on black, and they reflected every single source of light in the room, making it look like he was holding entire galaxies behind his irises. They were big and round, evoked innocence, even when squinted with the intent to threaten. His features, although carved and defined, were somewhat soft. Eleanor could only imagine how brightly he shined when smiling. But the more time they spent together, the less she had any hope of ever seeing that smile.

“If you were so unimpressed, why did you attend?” She questioned.

“My parents asked me to, that’s it.”

“Does that mean you don’t know the host personally?” It was difficult to miss the way Jaemin flinched at the mention of James, and Nori made sure to take note of it. She anticipated a response, having gotten used to Jaemin’s rapid answers, but was startled to be met with another bout of silence. “Are you always so diligent in following your parents’ request, Jaemin?” Nothing but more silence, her client’s nails digging into the armrest of his chair. So she tried again. “Um... James, then. You know hi-”

“Can we not fucking talk about Houston? If this is my hour, I’d rather not spend it talking about that fag”, he grumbled, leaving Eleanor speechless.

“That’s a truly awful thing to say. I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from using slurs in my presence... or ever, for that matter.”

“God, why’s everyone so pissy about it? He’s a queer, I’m not about to fucking lie. And I’m not gonna talk about him, either. But, if it’ll stop you from asking; yes, I do know him. Unfortunately. End of discussion”, Moon retorted before she could get a word in.

James was off limits, but why? King would be lying if she said the reasoning behind that animosity didn’t gnaw at her mind for the remainder of their session, but she came up empty regardless.

“Jaemin, I will not tolerate such language here. Don’t you know it’s wrong of you to use those words? Have you not been taught so?”

“Calling them what they are is wrong? So I can’t call you a therapist, I assume? Not that I would to begin with; you’re pretty shit”, Eleanor blinked rapidly, caught off guard by his venomous words.

“Those words are slurs. They’ve been used in the past in a demeaning way, to belittle gay people. And although some LGBTQ+ folks have reclaimed them, it doesn’t give just anyone the right to use them. They are still highly offensive”, Nori tried her best to talk some sense into the boy, but all he did was roll his eyes in reply. “Jaemin... were you aware of that?”

“Yes, I was. Why?” His tone was flat, lacking any interest towards the therapist and her intrusive inquiries.

“...are you homophobic?” She hoped he wouldn’t answer this. Hoped that, in this day and age, homophobes were just a myth. But she knew better than that.

“No, because I’m not afraid of any faggot. Do I dislike them? Do I believe their way of life to be wrong and sinful? Absolutely”, hatred was spilling out of him as if ingrained in his mind, almost rehearsed. Each word oozing malice as he hissed them at Eleanor.

Without her own consent, Dr. King’s eyes had blown wide, left completely speechless by the sudden confession. She counted her blessings that, in twenty-eight years of life, this was the first homophobe she’d ever encountered. Loud and proud, at that. But he was so young. So young to have such a closed mind, to be tainted. She didn’t know whether she felt pity or contempt for the boy. Nonetheless, she swallowed back a few unpleasant words hanging on the tip of her tongue and focused on the task at hand.

“Why?” Jaemin’s head snapped up, somehow taken aback by the sudden question.

“What?”

“Why? Why are you a homophobe?”

“I just told you. Are you fucking deaf on top of being a fraud?” Nori bit her lower lip, feeling her pressure rising as she listened to her client’s insolent taunts.

“No, Jaemin, I am not deaf. You said you disliked them. I just wanna know why.”

“’You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.’ Leviticus 18:22. Pretty self-explanatory, don’t you think?”, he sat back in his chair, hints of a smile spreading across his lips.

“I know what the Bible says, yes. I’m asking you, Jaemin Moon, why you hate gay people?” She gripped her notepad tighter than necessary, her tone sharp. This only seemed to amuse Moon further.

“Something the matter, doc?” He shifted to be on the edge of his seat, maintaining solid eye contact with Eleanor. This didn’t phase her; he wasn’t the first client to try and intimidate her, far from it.

“Are you dodging my question, Jaemin?” He scoffed at the mere implication this statement held.

“Dodging? Fuck no. I’m just tired of answering the same question over and over again. How many different ways do I have to say ‘I hate fags’ for you to get it?”

“Oh, I get it. What I don’t get, is how you hold such contempt for a minority without having any actual reasons why... I just find that odd”, she raised an eyebrow, and the way Jaemin’s nostrils flared indicated she’d hit a nerve: finally.

“It’s unnatural, isn’t that enough? Guys have dicks, chicks have pussies. A stick and a hole. You put one in the other and boom! A baby. Gay people can’t reproduce-”

“No, but they can adopt. There are millions of children that get abandoned or put up for adoption. And I can tell that ‘breeding’ isn’t the reason for your aversion. All you’ve given me so far has been textbook homophobe, but you’ve yet to give me a single reason why you personally dislike them. So, what’s the reason?” Eleanor grilled him, couldn’t help but notice the way his hands balled into fists. Got him.

“You can’t tell shit, and whatever the fuck my father’s paying you is way overpriced, clearly”, Jaemin leaned down to retrieve his backpack and slinked off his seat, much to Nori’s surprise. “I’m out of here”, he announced.

“Jaem-” She didn’t have time to finish calling out his name that her patient was out the door, leaving with a quite literal bang that shook the walls of her office. Their short, but fiery encounter left Eleanor breathless. She sat in her chair, trying to calm down, for nearly fifteen whole minutes after his departure.

When she was certain her heart wouldn’t jump out of her chest, Nori stood up and paced across her office to her desk, retrieving a half-consumed sage stick and her lighter. She then proceeded to smudge her office for way longer than necessary, until her heart was content and she couldn’t feel Jaemin’s negative energy contaminating her work space. After that, she didn’t linger for a moment longer and decided to head straight home.

Eleanor only made it to the parking lot before her phone started ringing. It was Peneloppe, the secretary they’d only hired a month or two ago. A doll, truly. Maybe a little scatterbrained.

“Um, hi, Dr. King?” Her voice was delicate, yet reluctant.

“Yes, Peneloppe, how can I help?”

“I- I’m sorry I forgot to ask you before you left, but a certain Mr Moon called? And he wanted to know how his son’s session went? I think he said it was um... shoot, uh...”

“Jaemin?” Nori stuffed a hand in her purse in search of her car keys.

“Yes! Yes, that’s the one!”

“I’ll write a report tomorrow-”

“Actually, uh, he’s on the other line? So if it wouldn’t be a bother”, Peneloppe squeaked, embarrassment seeping through her tone. All Eleanor could manage was a sigh as she unlocked her car. She sat down in her seat after popping the door open.

“Okay, well... tell Mr Moon that his son was very aggressive from the get-go, not very open to therapy. He cursed a lot and walked out of his session. Let him know I’ll have a full report tomorrow ready for him, alright?”

No response.

“...Peneloppe?”

“Y-Yes! Sorry, I was writing it down. But um, yes, I got it. I’ll let Mr Moon know. Have a good night, Dr. King!”

“You can call me Eleanor.”

“Eleanor... right. Good night, Eleanor.”

Wednesday, May 8th 2019, 5:55PM Wexler-Carsons Psychotherapy Practice

Although Mrs. Moon had confirmed Jaemin would be attending his second session, Eleanor had her doubts, what with how it went last time. He was late on top of being rude, and generally closed off to the idea of therapy. His dark aura clung to Eleanor for days after, and so that’s why she was only now revisiting her notes from their first session together. She’d tried to put anything Jaemin Moon-related to the furthest corner of her mind, in a desperate attempt to protect her energy from his intensity. And it had worked, for the most part. Today, she felt good. Light. She wasn’t as optimistic about her client showing up, though, but her door swinging open with a loud smack proved her wrong.

A hooded figure, presumably male, strided into her office, even closed the door behind him. Nori rose to her feet, her usual smile plastered to her lips. She couldn’t make out his features, but recognized the backpack to be Jaemin’s.

“Jaemin! I...” she looked over her shoulder at the clock; 5:55PM. “You’re... early. I wasn’t expecting you to show, much less early”, she admitted with a scoff, figured it would be better to be honest with him. Maybe he would even appreciate her humour.

“Yeah? Well, I did”, he spoke, his tone lifeless and dry. Sure, she didn’t know much about him, only what his file and he himself told her. Which, right now, was homophobic young adult with anger issues. But she recalled him being more animated than this at the very least. He was slouched in the seat across from her, head hanging low and his entire frame engulfed in a ridiculously oversized hoodie.

“Would you, um... would you mind taking the hoodie off? I like establishing eye contact with my patients”, Dr. King tried. She couldn’t help but notice the way he recoiled, as if he was about to bark back at her, but stopped himself before it could slip past him. It was followed by a brief silence. “...Jaemin?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay! God...” he grumbled in response as he shuffled in his seat. His hands slipped further out from under his sleeves where they’d been previously hidden, and that was when Nori spotted his bruised knuckles. He was violent, she knew that much. But that didn’t mean the prospect of one of her patients getting hurt delighted her, either. It didn’t mean she expected it to resurface two sessions in. She’d have to address it, she couldn’t not, but he seemed to have crawled further into his shell, if that was even possible. Nori would have to approach him slowly, take it day by day.

His hands were shaky, hesitant, as they came up to pull off his hood, and Eleanor gasped the moment she caught a glimpse of his face. His hair had grown a little since the last time they saw each other, or maybe he just hadn’t groomed. But that wasn’t what horrified her. He was sporting a black eye and a busted lip. It was obvious whoever tended to his injury knew what they were doing, but it was unsightly, nonetheless. Nori didn’t have time to question what she should do that her legs were already carrying her towards her client.

“Jaemin, wha... what happened to you?” Her eyes widened as they scanned his face and his injuries, taking him in. She kept a reasonable distance, afraid of breaking any boundaries that weren’t meant to be broken. But every fiber of her body urged her to hug him, caress his cheek when she saw the way he cast his gaze down, nibbled his lower lip at her inquiry.

“What do you think?” he huffed with a small shake of his head.

“Jaemin... you know you can talk to me”, the softness of King’s voice made Jaemin look up at her, and for the first time, she saw him. Without any standoffish exterior. She gazed into his eyes and saw fear. A young boy in desperate need of help. “A- Anything that’s said here stays between us, you know that, right?” He only nodded to show he understood, but broke eye contact the moment his eyes became slightly glassier than usual. Eleanor took a step back, millions of thoughts rushing in her mind. “Jaemin?”

“...yes?”

“From now on... I’d like to see you two times a week.”

#nosspara #everyone meet burt #are we surprised? no? good. #tw: slurs #tw: abuse #the way this is SO FUCKING LATE is embarrassing #i'll try to speed it up #are we surprised i'm slow? no? good. #i did NOT readproof this bcos it's FOUR MONTHS LATE #SO SUE ME #corrections might be made waaaaay later #for now i just need this to be out

[twdeadfanfic]

Life at the end of the world Pt.7

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note: Sixth part of my first twd fanfic, I’ve been itching to write something like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

“Thanks.” You smiled to Carol when she gave you a dish with the omelette she’d cooked, starting to devour it. Everything she cooked seemed to taste better than it usually did and you were starving, having missing dinner last night.

You were glad to see Daryl out and about, having breakfast with the rest of you, looking better. The atmosphere was silent and tense, though, the moodiness that had settled over your group still palpable.

“Um...guys?” Glenn broke the silence, standing and looking very nervous. “So...the barn is full of walkers.”

You stopped mid-bite, staring at him wide-eyed, sure you must have heard him wrong. Why would someone have walkers inside their barn? You could see the rest of your group was as shocked as you but then Shane strode towards the barn and you all followed him.

It was true, you could see the monsters looking through the holes between the wooden planks. It made no sense to you, why would Hershel keep them there? It was dangerous and insane.

Soon a fight broke within your group, dividing it into two sides. Shane wanted to clean the barn of walkers while Rick argued you were in Hershel’s land so you must do as he wanted in order to not risk being kicked out.

You understood you were Hershel’s guests but still, you couldn’t stay there, couldn’t live there knowing the barn was full of walkers. They could get loose, they could kill every single one of you the moment the barn’s door gave up.

But you couldn’t leave until Sophia were back. Maybe you could go back to the road or something, or stay somewhere else, maybe the farm Daryl and you’d found. What you knew was that Shane was right about the barn, it was too much of a risk.

You were about to voice that you agreed with Shane, when he suggested you should start considering that Sophia might not get back. It hit you as a slap and you shifted away from his side. You couldn’t believe it, you couldn’t believe he’d just give up and abandon her! And even if he truly believed Sophia was dead, he couldn’t just say it like that, in front of Carol...

“Shane!” You scolded, disappointed on him

“We’re not leaving Sophia behind,” Rick said and you nodded, glad your sort of leader saw like you on that.

“I'm close to finding this girl. I just found her damn doll two days ago!” Daryl chimed in angrily.

“You found her doll, Daryl. That's what you did. You found a doll.” Shane retorted.

In a second they were yelling at each other, a fight breaking between them.

“I'm just saying what needs to be said. You get a good lead, it's in the first 48 hours” Shane was still yelling angrily, Rick stepping between him and Daryl “Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you coming all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction.”

You couldn’t believe the venom in Shane’s words, anger rising inside you, and you helped Lori to push him away, all you finally managing to keep him and Daryl away from each other.

“Now just let me talk to Hershel.” Rick tried to calm the situation down. “If we're gonna stay, if we're gonna clear this barn, I have to talk him into it. This is his land.”

“Hershel sees those things in there as people... Sick people... His wife, his stepson...” Dale explained, telling you he’d already talked with Hershel about it but was waiting for Glenn to break the news.

That caused another yet another fight, Shane yelling again, and you jumped back, startled, when the walkers began pushing the barn’s door, the sound exciting them.

“Come on, let’s move from here,” Rick commanded you and you all went back to your camp, eyeing the barn warily.

Until Rick could talk with Hershel, it was decided you’d take turns watching the barn’s door. It hadn’t opened in all the time the walkers may have been inside but still, now that you knew they were there you couldn’t help but live in fear of it.

You all tried to go back to your usual tasks while Shane and Andrea went to keep watch, but you could see everybody’s eyes darting to the barn from time to time.

You saw Daryl storming off the stable, Carol following him shortly after with tears in her eyes, and you made your way towards her, concerned.

“Ey, you alright?” You asked, holding her hands. “What did he do?” You nodded your head towards Daryl’s tent. You knew he was still angry at Shane’s words and in his anger maybe he’d lashed out against Carol.

“Nothing, just...” Carol let go of your hands to rub her eyes before smiling weakly to you. “I tried to stop him from going out to search for Sophia, he’s still recovering and he’d just get worse, but he hates it.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t strike me like a good patient.” You chuckled softly.

It was obvious Daryl was sick of being stuck in his tent, itching to start moving and looking for Sophia again, even if it was clear he wasn’t well enough. He still had stitches on his forehead and side, and the wounds were tender, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Don’t take it to heart, you know how he’s.” You gave Carol a half hug, noticing how upset she still looked. “Whatever he said just ignore it.”

“It’s not that...it’s...” Carol let out a sad sigh. “I don’t want him getting hurt looking for her. I don’t want anyone to get hurt...”

“But we want to look for Sophia.” You tried to reassure her but she cut you off.

“It’s what Shane said. We don’t know if we’re going to find her, Y/N, we don’t...”

Carol had tears in her eyes again and you huffed, angry at Shane.

“Don’t listen to Shane! We all want to keep looking, we know we can find her.” You assured Carol, hating she was losing hope.

You understood her, days passed without any of you finding her little girl, but you hated to see Carol like that, so hopeless and broken. Still, you didn’t know how to help.

“We’ll find her...” You said weakly. Carol gave you a sad smile, squeezing your hand before leaving you.

You made your way to Daryl’s tent, not sure if to talk about Sophia’s search, yell at him for upsetting Carol, or for what, but you walked purposely towards it.

“Can I talk to you?” You asked from the outside, the tent unzip.

“You come to talk my ear off about being an ass to Carol?” Daryl said without looking at you.

“Kind of...” So he knew he’d been an ass. That was something.

“Did she told you what she thinks of the search, uh?” Daryl snapped.

“That’s not fair.” You walked in, flopping down onto the floor of the tent. “Her little girl’s been missing for days and we can’t find her, then Shane says all those things...you can’t blame Carol for doubting.”

Daryl scoffed and you rolled your eyes, frustrated.

“Come on, Daryl! She’s having a hell of a time, she’s suffering, I don’t even know how she can keep going.” You tried to explain. “You can’t be an ass to her just because she doesn’t want to get her hopes high only to have them crushed again!”

“I told her, I keep telling you all, I’ll find her.” Daryl sounded as frustrated as you. “I found the doll, she has to be out there, I’m close. But you just won’t listen.”

“It’s not like that...” You could understand his frustration, especially after this morning. “But it’s hard to keep hopes high, Daryl, it’s hard...” You’d been trying, but day after day without any luck had been taking a toll on you.

“But I’m glad you’re looking for her, it’s kind of the only thing that keeps me going.” You admitted. Daryl was so positive he’d find Sophia, never doubting, it had a way of lifting your spirit. “If someone can find her it’s you.”

Daryl scowled at you and at first you thought he was angry at you before realizing he seemed mostly taken aback. You blushed, self-conscious. “It’s not like you don’t know you’re our best tracker. We can look for her as much as we want, but you’re the one tracking her...”

“Yet you don’t think I can find her.” He grumbled.

“Course we do...” You assured. “It’s just that it’s hard to keep hopes high, with everything that’s going on. But think about how you’re gonna shut everyone’s mouth when you show up with Sophia.”

Daryl scoffed but he’d half a smile on his face.

“But you have to rest and get better before going out again.” You reminded him.

“I’m fine!”

“Yeah, sure.” You pointed to his shirt, droplets of blood staining it from where he’d opened his wound a bit.

“Like you care anyway.” Daryl still had that angry, harsh exterior but you thought he sounded almost vulnerable.

“We care, same we do about everyone in our group.” You pointed out as if it were obvious, noticing his insecurities were real and wanting to ease them without making a big deal of it.

Daryl had been kind of out of the group since always and now that he was slowly integrating, you guessed it was normal he felt out of place and maybe even unwelcome, but you didn’t want him to think you didn’t appreciate him. You did value him and were sure the others did it too, even if Daryl didn’t really see it yet.

“Stop being dramatic.” You half teased, nudging his feet with yours. Daryl huffed but said nothing else, eyes trained on the floor of the tent while he fidgeted.

“By the way...what Shane said, it was bullshit, he was just trying to prove his point, you know it right?”

Daryl shrugged at your words as if he didn’t care, but you knew better. Realizing you weren’t going to get much else out of him, you got up. It was your time to take watch at the barn.

“Apologize to Carol!” You reminded him before leaving.

***

“You still mad or what?” Shane snapped at you when you kept shooting him angry looks as you kept watch.

“It’s like you were an asshole this morning or something.” You snapped back.

“I was just saying things as they are. Y/N,” he said, and you scoffed. “We can’t stay here waiting for those walkers to get lose, waiting for a girl that’s not going to come back.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Y/N, we’ve looked for days and haven’t found her...you know the chances, you do...” Shane sounded almost sorrowful but you shook your head and said nothing.

“And you know we gotta clean that barn if we’re going to stay.” He kept talking. That, you knew it was true. But it was up to Hershel.

“If Rick doesn’t manage to talk Hershel around and we have to leave...I really don’t feel like going on the road again.” You admitted. You didn’t want to leave the farm, the shelter and that it gave you.

“We’re not leaving,” Shane said with confidence.

You could just hope he was right.

“Gonna tell you something...” Shane said after a moment, looking around nervously and then at you. “But don’t go around saying it yet, alright?”

“Sure...” He’d spiked your curiosity.

“Lori’s pregnant.”

Shane dropped the bomb and your eyes went wide. How could someone get pregnant in this world? It was insane...

“So we can’t leave, here she’s safe and we’ve Hershel to help with the baby and all. Rick knows it. We’re not going anywhere. We’re gonna make this place safe.” Shane delivered with confidence before leaving you to keep watch.

Now you understood the eagerness to stay of both men.

To you, it just sounded like a lot more problems coming your way. Like you hadn’t enough.

***

You’d been taking watch for a while when you saw Andrea and T-Dog hurrying towards you.

“Ey, have you seen Rick or Shane?” Andrea asked when she reached you, and you shook your head. “Rick told us we were going to split and look for Sophia again, but it’s past time we went.

“If you are going to search for her I’m going too!” You followed them back to the camp.

If the barn’s door had resisted all this time, it would probably last a day more. Besides, both you and Andrea knew you kept watch mostly to prevent Shane from doing some stupidity, and he wasn’t around.

Glenn was sitting down in the porch with Maggie, both looking so cute you couldn’t help your tiny smile, but neither did he knew were was Rick, he only knew he’d gone to help Hershel with something.

“We were supposed to leave a couple hours ago,” Andrea complained.

“Yeah, you were. What the hell?” You heard Daryl’s angry voice as he and Carol walked closer, seemingly coming from outside the farm.

“Rick told us he was going out,” Carol added.

You looked at her raising your eyebrows and she gave you a nod. So Daryl had apologized and sorted things out then. You were glad.

“Damn it, isn’t anybody taking this seriously? We got us a damn trail...” Daryl complained angrily.

You nodded in understatement, but still, it was important that Rick talked to Hershel, he had to convince him to not only let you stay but also clear the barn. Maybe you all could just split and go looking for Sophia without him, you had Daryl to lead you on that.

Before you could do anything, though, you saw Shane approaching, carrying what looked like a big bag full of guns. He seemed out of sorts, an angry look on his face that scared you a bit.

“Time to grow up.” He announced as he began giving guns to all of you, talking about how you had to protect yourselves now that you knew the dangers that lie within the farm.

“Can you stop! You do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight.” Maggie announced, trying to talk reason to no avail.

“Ey, ey, Shane, hold on a second...” You tried to stop him when he went to give a gun to Carl, telling him about finding Sophia, but Shane just brushed past you.

“Rick said no guns, this is not your call, this is not your decision to make!” Lori hissed, stepping between Shane and her son.

“Oh, shit...”

T-Dog voice made you all turn your head from Shane to where he was looking, and you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw Rick walking into the farm with Hershel, both pulling a couple of walkers with them, holding them with some kind of leash.

“What is that!” Shane yelled, running wildly towards them and you all followed him. “What the hell are you doing!”

“Shane, back off!” Rick yelled back.

Soon a fight broke down between the two men as Shane kept shouting against the insanity of all this while Rick tried to make him stop, all while he and Hershel tried to control the geeks.

You were still too shocked to do anything, all you knew was that you wanted to be away from those walkers and that the farm felt more and more unsafe.

“Y/N, the gun!” Daryl's voice got through you and you noticed he was pointing the rifle at the walkers, so you aimed the gun that Shane’d gave you to them too, though you prayed they didn’t cut loose.

“These things ain't sick. They're not people. They're dead. Ain't gonna feel nothing for them 'cause all they do, they kill!” Shane was shouting at Rick and Hershel, who seemed overwhelmed. “Hey, Hershel man, let me ask you something. Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?”

“No!” Rick shouted and you could just stare in horror as Shane shot at the walker Hershel was holding.

“Could someone who's alive, could they just take that. Why is it still coming? That's its heart, its lungs.” Shane kept shooting at it. Why is it still coming?”

“Shane, enough,” Rick yelled back, desperate.

“Yeah, you’re right man, enough.” Shane delivered before shooting at the walker on the head.

You knew it had to be done, you knew they were dead and dangerous, that they’d kill all of you but still, looking at Hershel’s face while he stared at the now unmoving corpse, seeming out of words, seeming even unable to move...it killed you, it made you felt horrible.

Before any of you could do anything to stop it, Shane broke the chain of the barn, ignoring Rick’s cries and letting the walkers lose.

Shit...

You forced yourself to spring into action as the monsters began walking outside and towards your group and you went to the front line, shooting at the geeks as they came.

When the last one of the walkers had fallen, you flopped onto the floor and hid your face on your palms, unable to look at the Greenes’ faces. You’d just massacred what they considered their family and friends.

You looked back up when you heard a growl coming from the barn but didn’t get up, let anyone else take care of it, you were done.

Your heart almost stopped beating when you saw the walker. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be real.

Sophia was walking outside the barn, eyes clouded, skin pale and purplish, dead except for the fact she was moving, growling as he made her way towards you.

“Sophia!” Carol cried, running towards her, but Daryl caught her, both falling to the floor next to you. “Sophia...”

She kept sobbing and wailing again and again and you hid your face again, choking sobs, when Rick pointed her gun at who had been Sophia. You jumped when you heard the gunshot and curled onto yourself, trying to escape from all it, trying to wake up from the nightmare that it had to be.

NA: I find this chapter lacking but well...

_

@momc95 @jodiereedus22@osweetdevilo@sapphire1727@coffeebooksandfandom

I never thought anyone’d like to be tag in any of my stories so thank you! It means the world! <3

If you want to eb tagged please let me know.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead imagine #twd imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl imagine #the walking dead #twd #life at the end of the world #lew

[poiregourmande]

Shane/Eugene

Shane ditched the bling in the prop closet, but keeps the outfit on all day – he kinda likes the way heads turn and gazes follow him as he walks through the office. Feels powerful, a bit like when Ryann and Fernando made him wear heels.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, this outfit would be incredible with heels. He can picture the sharp cut of the suit, the jut of his ankle, a tall, pointy stiletto. It feels a bit stupid for work – now that he doesn’t have the excuse of a video, so he keeps the image filed away in his mind and tries to keep working.

This might be why he jumps at the invitation for drinks after work. If he’s honest with himself he doesn’t want to go back home alone and change into sweats. He wants to keep feeling powerful and handsome, and gorgeous. The novelty of the feeling is dizzying.

So he texts Ryann, you wouldn’t happen to have a pair of heels laying around, wouldn’t you?

Ryann asks a lot of questions like what are you wearing and where are you going and it would feel like an interrogation if Shane wasn’t almost vibrating at the thought of putting on heels again. He knows Ryann wants to come up with the best pair of shoes for Shane and he’s so grateful for that.

After half an hour where Shane has been uselessly fidgeting at his desk without getting any work done, Ryann finally walks up to him with a shoe box. Shane is grateful most people already left – he kinda wants it to be a surprise.

Nice white pumps – perfect to pair with the blue suit – and high. Shane can already tell he’s gonna be at least as tall as Garrett in these and he represses a shiver as he slides his feet into them.

It takes less than a few minutes to get used to them, this time around.

“You’re a natural,” Ryann says, pulling his phone out to film it.

“Can you – can you wait for tomorrow to post it? I kinda want it to be a surprise.” He doesn’t know why. He knows that for some reason, tonight he wants all eyes on him, even though on any other day he’d rather crawl into bed and watch Frasier. Maybe it’s the rush of the Ferrari going to his head. He thought he was above that kind of thing.

“Of course baby,” Ryann says, and films him as he struts up and down the empty hallway.

Shane walks into the bar, and sees everything and everyone, as he’s at least a head taller than all of them. He spots his colleagues at the back, crowded around two long tables, and is delighted to see that someone invited Zach, Keith, Ned and Eugene. He hasn’t seen them in a while – not since they left, actually, cause life is just that goddamn busy – and they’re always good party value.

Keith is the first one he reaches and he really plays up the wow you’re so tall bit, since they’re usually pretty much eye-level. They make a bit of small talk before Ned walks up to them, standing straighter as if it could help him be not so small next to them, and Shane congratulates him on the baby and the house and the company, even though he already did all that on social media before.

Next is Zach, complimenting his ‘hot ankles’, whatever that is, and deadpan asking him if he could climb him.

“Maybe later,” Shane jokes, as he feels a heavy gaze pulling at him from the back of the room.

He turns to see Eugene, his back to the wall, hands in his pockets, looking Shane up and down insistently. Shane pretends not to see him. He doesn’t know why, but something tells him to let Eugene come to him. Knows they’ll both enjoy the game.

He turns to greet a few more people, go up to the bar to grab beers with Ryan – who of course cracks more than a few tall jokes – all the while acutely aware of Eugene’s gaze following him. Shane gets a tingle at the base of his spine, the urge to make something happen, anything.

He leans against the wall near their tables, on the opposite side from Eugene, pretending to be engrossed  in conversations around him, while actually being finely attuned to each of Eugene’s moves.

People still come up to greet him, still compliment him on his look, heads still turn, but somehow all the other looks stop mattering when Eugene looks.

A predatory stalk, that’s what it looks like when Eugene finally makes his move. He doesn’t stop until he’s almost flush with Shane’s chest, on his tiptoes – and Eugene doesn’t usually tiptoe for anyone.

“You look like you’re about to ruin my life.”

“You look like you’re okay with it.”

Eugene doesn’t answer. He just smirks and nods, fingers curling into Shane’s belt loops.

Neither of them talk much from that point on. A quick slip through the crowd and out the bar. A frantic discovering in the alley while they wait for the Uber. A breathless “Yeah?” and a hungry nod enough to know they’re on the same page.

Strained looks and subtle pawing in the Uber, and suddenly at last, they tumble through Eugene’s front door.

“You look like you’re about to ruin my throat.”

Eugene is already on his knees.

requests are CLOSED | see all my buzzfeed drabbles here

#madang #sheugene #eugane #buzzfic #buzzfeed unclean #tryfic #drabbles #prompts

[andrewilnyckyjhateblog]

bodys

pairing: shyan word count: 4.1k status: one-shot content warnings: rated explicit for graphic depictions of sex acts

summary: every other wednesday, like clockwork, ryan gets antsy. shane wants to — no, needs to know why. (spoiler alert: he's horny.)

→ READ ON AO3.

(is it the chorus yet? no. it’s just the building of the verse so when the chorus does come, it’ll be more rewarding.)

Every other Wednesday, Ryan got antsy.

Shane had started to notice this months ago — he knew, sometimes, Ryan got a little jittery. Even after they started working on Unsolved together, he hadn’t realized that there was such a routine to it. But after a while, he’d started noticing things about Ryan. Just little things, like how he took his coffee, and how he wore different shoes depending on his mood, and how he liked to go for runs when he was stressed.

And every other Wednesday, he got antsy. It was almost like clockwork. He would get up and walk around — to the coffee station, to the bathroom, just a quick jaunt around — at least once an hour, if not twice. It was worse in the afternoon. He wouldn’t eat at lunch.

Shane was mostly curious. Ryan had a lot of energy, but this was above and beyond. It was abnormal, and while Shane appreciated, for the sake of his sanity, that there was a kind of rhythm to this abnormality, it was still — it was out of the ordinary, he couldn’t explain it. And that was annoying. It was like a little tick in his brain, eye twitching every time Ryan left his desk. Ideally, Ryan wouldn’t get antsy in this way. He wouldn’t jiggle his leg until it sounded like such a jackhammer Shane had to put his headphones on. He wouldn’t tap on his keyboard without typing like he was writing some kind of incomprehensible Lorem Ipsum nonsense. But, at the very least, Shane could know why he got like this.

He was mostly curious, of course, but there was a little part of him that was concerned. Concerned that Ryan wasn’t able to get work done. That it would get in the way of something important sooner or later. After all, every other Wednesday, not being able to focus in the least — that was a lot of time lost, a lot of work not done. That could interfere with their editing, his research, recording, shoots; it was reasonable for Shane to worry things wouldn’t get done like this. And an even smaller part of him was concerned that something was wrong. Something was making Ryan worry, something was making Ryan anxious, something was upsetting him — or something else, maybe. Maybe it was anticipation, or excitement. He was waiting for something, or maybe even for someone, and this part of him, however small, shouted louder than the rest of his thoughts about Ryan’s Restless Wednesdays. If it was Ryan waiting for someone, or even just a thing he was doing, it wasn’t anything he’d told Shane about. If he was dating someone, or going somewhere, it was a part of his life that Shane was locked out of. And it wasn’t like Shane would care — they were friends, of course. Best friends, even. But if Ryan had a crush on the barista at the Starbucks who worked Wednesday evening shifts, or if he had doctor’s appointments on Thursday mornings, then he hadn’t told Shane, and a part of Shane’s mind traitorously interpreteda this as hiding it from him.

So he noticed Ryan got antsy, and he almost wished he hadn’t, because it had become such a point of obsession in his “mildly-interesting-events-calendar” that it was starting to drive him as crazy as it seemed to drive Ryan. It didn’t help that the Wednesday in question, the Wednesday he’d decided to dwell on these feelings of unease, Ryan was worse than usual.

It was right before lunch. Ryan had stood up several times, looking as though he was going to leave, go somewhere — and then he’d sit back down again, back to browsing through footage mindlessly. It was annoying, bordering on vexing, because they had to finish a video to go up Friday, and they weren’t nearly done. Ryan was slowing the whole thing down with this bullshit. And Shane had had it. Quietly, he vowed to himself, next time Ryan stood up, he would confront him about it. What was going on in his personal life wasn’t really Shane’s business if Ryan didn’t want to tell him about it, though he’d felt that they were close enough that Ryan could, but it was starting to interfere with his work which, quite literally, was his business indeed.

It took several more loops before Shane could force himself to follow. Ryan had gotten up, and actually had taken several steps, before turning to Shane as though to say something. Instead of speaking, he had turned around, headed back to his desk, and without even bothering to sit, turned around and started walking again. Shane stood, several of his long strides outpacing Ryan easily. His legs were, at best, unmanageable, but they had their perks.

Placing a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, he bent to speak to him quietly, voice low as he spoke. “Let’s talk. Privately.”

Ryan swallowed and nodded, taking Shane’s arm and pulling him into a secluded hallway. After a beat, just peering up at him, he spoke, landing somewhere in trying to sound pleasant and failing, instead producing a nervous kind of hiss. “What’s up?”

“You’re acting… weird.”

Ryan frowned, brows knitting. “I’m always weird.”

“You are.”

“Elaborate.”

“I don’t know, man, you’re just… You get antsy.” Shane jammed his hands into his pockets, and glanced up, breaking the steady eye contact. It was harder than he’d imagined, confronting Ryan about this. It was awkward, and neither of them were strangers to that, but even so, he was finding it extremely unpleasant.

Ryan’s brows rose in surprise, mouth parting in a slight ‘o’. “I am, huh?” he asked, running his hands over his face.

“Yeah, like. Every other Wednesday, like clockwork. It’s… kind of annoying, I guess? Distracting. And you can’t get work done. I guess I just wanted to see what’s up with you.”

He broke into a crooked smile, turning a little red across his cheeks, to Shane’s surprise. It was… cute. Very cute. He didn’t answer, though, after a beat, so Shane kept rambling — he couldn’t help himself. “You know, if something’s up, you can tell me. We’re buds. More than just, like… ghouligans. I’m your pal for real. Even if it’s just a crush or something.”

“God, okay, you can stop.” Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. He was still combing his hands through his hair — another nervous tick. “Okay, here’s the thing. I do my T shot every other Thursday morning. And by Wednesday afternoon…”

Shane breathed out a sigh of relief before Ryan finished. It wasn’t something bad, or someone else (and he tried not to think about the strange wash of relief when he confirmed it wasn’t a crush). He was probably just… nervous for his shot, or something — though Shane had vague knowledge that, at almost 28, he’d been doing this for nearly a decade, so nerves seemed a bit off — after that long, even Ryan would get used to it, wouldn’t he?

“By Wednesday afternoon. I get,” he paused again, cheeks reddening even more. Shane raised a single eyebrow — whatever it was, he couldn’t imagine how it could be this embarrassing. “I get, like, inconsolably horny. It’s just a hormone thing, but it’s distracting. As you can imagine. Like the feeling of a perma-boner, for hours. It’s draining, even.”

He hadn’t expected that. And, in the matter of a few words, his perception of the past few months had changed entirely. Ryan wasn’t anxious, he was aroused. And, even if it was embarrassing and frustrating for him, Shane couldn’t suppress his thoughts of how hot that was — jiggling his leg, getting up to walk around, all of the fidgeting. All that time disappearing. He wondered, for a brief moment, if Ryan had ever rubbed one out in a closet. He dismissed the thought quickly, though. Even if he was into his colleague and friend in a way he wasn’t able or ready to address, he wasn’t a creep, and wouldn’t think about his best bud masturbating, especially not to his face.

Ryan wasn’t looking at him anymore, his whole face lit up bright red, eyes wide and pointing to the ground. It was an infuriatingly endearing way to react to telling Shane that he had spent hours sitting beside him, too randy to think. Shane had to react, he knew — though it didn’t seem like it, it had to have been a stressful admission to make, one that made Ryan vulnerable to — humiliation, he supposed.

“Should’ve just grabbed me for a quickie in the bathroom. Problem solved.” Shane blurted. He snorted, before realizing Ryan wasn’t laughing at all. He was thinking.

“You’d be up for that?”

“What?”

“Like,” Ryan mumbled, face in his hands again, “like a friends-with-benefits set-up, I guess. A quick fuck so I can actually focus.”

He hadn’t expected that response at all. Not that Shane had actually thought about what he was saying before he said it, because he wasn’t, in the least, but — he thought Ryan would shove him and laugh it off, not this. At the same time, though, he didn’t… dislike the idea. Ryan was hot, and Shane would be a fool if he thought he wasn’t, to some degree, attracted to him. They had good chemistry as friends, and he was certain they’d have pretty good chemistry in that way, too. And they cared about each other, in a way that superceded any sexual desires — in a way, it kind of made sense.

And Ryan was hot.

And he was into Shane. He wanted to have sex with Shane, supposedly, based on this proposition.

Shane didn’t overthink it. “Hey, why not.” If he overthought it, he’d talk himself out of it, and if he was being entirely honest — it had been a while since he’d gotten laid, and the idea of a low-key fuckbuddy, something casual and quick, sounded pretty good at this point. He glanced at his watch, and quirked his lips. “I don’t think we have time to head to either of our places on our lunch, though…”

“Well,” Ryan said, glancing leftwards. “There’s a single stall bathroom right here. It’s pretty big. Big enough for both of us.” And, just like that, Shane opened the door, and with a quick glance behind them, to make sure nobody saw them, they ducked into the bathroom. Ryan headed in first, and pulled Shane behind him.

The door slammed shut, and Shane searched for the light switch. When he flicked it on, it dawned on him how wildly unsexy this whole situation was. As nice as the Buzzfeed offices were, it was still a bathroom. The lights flickered above them, casting unflattering shadows.

Still, looking at Ryan, Shane’s heart twisted in a way that wasn’t entirely platonic. He was so — endearing, he supposed, shifting nervously across from him. It was an interesting thing about Ryan, how he managed to look so strong, so confident, stern face and set jaw and ultra-masc appearance, but so open, so vulnerable at the same time. It was one of Shane’s favourite parts of him. And, of course, he was undeniably attractive — a kind of masculine beauty to him, in his clenched jaw and set brows and strong arms. Like anyone else, Shane had his insecurities, but he’d come to terms with them. It had been a long time he’d felt so inadequate, standing across from a partner.

Realizing they’d been standing in silence for a long moment, he forced himself to try and break the tension. “This is like some kind of bad porno, huh?”

Ryan snorted. “Yeah. Two horny bros fuck in the office bathroom!”

“Next unsolved mystery: how many kinds of sex can you have in five and a half square feet?” They both started cackling, barely smothering their laughter, before realizing someone in that hallway could definitely hear them if they listened — that set off more laughter, Shane choking it down, Ryan covering his mouth with his hand. “Alright, okay. Uh. How d’ya wanna start, then?”

Ryan swallowed thickly. “We could make out?”

“Alright,” Shane replied, and leaned down, fingers grazing Ryan’s jaw as he tilted his head up. They kissed, softly and slowly — familiar and new all at once, exploring how they slotted against one another, and how easy it seemed to be. Ryan tasted like coffee and toothpaste, just a hint of sweetness. Shane bumped his nose against Ryan, and he pulled back for a moment, snickering.

Still, he looks down at Ryan with a little wonderment at how good it was. Making out with someone for the first time was rarely good. It was awkward, nerve-wracking, a little uncomfortable; for them, it was all of these things, but it was still distinctly good. And it was hot. He wasn’t wrong in thinking they’d have good chemistry.

“You need to do something about that big fuckin’ honker.”

“Do I?”

“No.” Ryan was smiling and blushing, looking messy and tousled in the best way. He went in for another kiss, brief but not at all chaste, tender as he moved down his throat. He pressed kisses into Shane’s jaw through the beard fuzz, strong arms wrapping around him as he moved to his neck. He unbuttoned the top button of his flannel and pressed a kiss to Shane’s collarbone, spreading the shirt open so he could nip and bite at it. Shane’s hand instinctively went to his mouth, biting down on his fingers, smothering a moan. “Easy to please, huh? Wish we weren’t at work — I’d love to hear you.”

Shane breathed in sharply, and realized he had a chub already — if he didn’t take control of the situation soon, he would embarrass himself, coming in his pants like a teenager. Besides, it was Ryan who needed this, much more than he did.

Pulling away for a moment, he took another deep breath to calm himself before leaning back down, pulling Ryan in for another hungry kiss. This time, he took the lead, hands trailing down his sides, slipping under his shirt. He felt the ridges of Ryan’s hips, firm and muscular, running his thumbs over them and down towards the waistband of boxer-briefs. He ran his index finger along the elastic, slipping it below slowly. Breaking their kiss for a moment, Shane whispered to Ryan, voice low and breathy. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking heady and a little dazed. Between kisses, Shane moved quickly, unbuckling Ryan’s belt and undoing his jeans. Shane found himself a little dumbfounded by the whole situation — he had fallen into this so easily, so readily. He’d never seriously considered Ryan before as, well, anything more than Ryan. His best friend, his ghost-hunting partner, his co-host, his biggest supporter. But this transition felt almost natural — like it was the next step in their relationship, like this was where it was headed anyways. In a way, it wasn’t more than Ryan. It was just… him.

Ryan helped him shimmy his jeans down a little, and Shane shook his head. It felt so high school, jamming his hands down another guy’s pants to give him a handy. A bathroom was better than a janitor’s closet, but not by much. He dragged his fingers down Ryan’s v-line, taking in how defined it was — he knew Ryan was in shape, but he hadn’t realized the dude was sculpted. Slowly, painstakingly so, he slipped his fingers beneath the band of Ryan’s underwear. He paused for a moment, hand still down Ryan’s pants. “Should I… go get lube?”

Ryan wheezed, breathy and fast. “Little late for that. Spit?”

“Aw, man. I’m not gonna spit on my hand. That’s so porny.”

Pausing for a moment, Ryan drew Shane’s hand out of his pants, bringing it upwards. Leaning down a bit, he parted his lips, still holding Shane’s gaze up through his lashes, and slowly started sucking on Shane’s fingers. He always thought that move was a little contrived, but his mind was changed — watching Ryan take him in his mouth, swallowing each knuckle easily, through fluttering lashes in some perverse twist of innocence… it had to be one of the hottest things Shane had ever seen.

After a few seconds, Ryan pulled away. “Good to go, then?” His voice sounded a little rough, a little raw.

Shane nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He slipped his fingers below Ryan’s waistband once more, this time going lower — he felt Ryan’s clit, erect and straining against his boxer-briefs. He was already wet. Shane started stroking his clit slowly, thumb circling across the top. His gaze was steady on Ryan’s face, watching him tilt his head back, clenched fist against his mouth to hide it parting, trying to smother a gasp.

He slipped a finger into Ryan’s cunt, shallow and slow, still working his clit as he did so. Ryan was hot and wet, and Shane had to bite back a curse, just thinking of what it would feel like around his cock. Ryan gasped again, a shaky ‘fuck’ in Shane’s ear. He was hot, and getting to touch him was hot — but the most satisfying part of this, what was making his dick strain against his pants and kept him chewing on his lip, trying to choke back moans, was how he was pleasuring Ryan, how good Ryan was feeling. His satisfaction was the best part. Shane had always felt, in sex, it was best for him when he was topping; he liked doing the work, being the active partner, entirely honed in on making whoever he was with feel as good as possible. This felt like that, dialled to a thousand.

Ryan was pushing against him, hips twitching, fingers shaking as they moved across his shoulders, down his sides, to his mouth in a clenched fist and through his hair. He looked as though his knees could give at any moment — almost to where Shane wanted him. Dipping his head again, he whispered to Ryan. “Can I eat you out?”

Ryan nodded vigorously, but Shane waited for a verbal yes. He pulled his hand out from Ryan’s jeans, thumbing his hip bone again as he did. “Yeah, God. Fuck. Please,” Ryan whimpered as he let Shane shimmy his jeans down. Taking a breath, he boosted himself onto the sink counter. “God, I can’t think about how gross this is, this fucking bathroom.”

“Don’t,” Shane said as he kneeled, slotting himself between Ryan’s thighs, knees over his shoulders. He took a moment, just taking the sight in. His happy trail, the downy hair covering his thighs, muscular and flexing in anticipation. He ran his thumbs across Ryan’s inner thighs, glancing up at his face. His brows were knitted, shoulders bunched — Shane had noticed that Ryan drew in on himself when he was tense. He wanted to make him feel loose, unclenched, absolutely falling apart. Slowly, delicately, he thumbed at the lips of Ryan’s hole, feeling his legs twitch. “This feel good?” he asked, and waited for Ryan to nod. When he got the response he was looking for, he leaned in, pulling Ryan’s clit into his mouth and sucking gently, savouring the feeling of Ryan shaking and writhing above him. He felt his own cock straining against his pants. Even without Ryan touching him, he was close to the edge. Ryan’s legs wrapped around Shane’s neck, hands threading through his hair. He scratched at Shane’s scalp, breathing shakily as he did.

His tongue swirled against Ryan, and he slipped a finger inside his cunt, massaging him. He yanked Shane’s hair in response, hissing out a slow ‘yes’. Shane moaned against him — he hadn’t thought he was into hair-pulling, but when it was Ryan, it was somehow… incredibly sexy. If he had thought Ryan was antsy before, he hadn’t seen anything then — he was bucking against Shane, hips twitching in every moment, incredibly responsive to anything Shane did. “I—I think I’m close,” he choked out.

Shane inserted another finger, mouth and hand moving faster and faster. He slipped his free hand down his own pants — coming in his pants, at this point, was unavoidable. He was just embracing the inevitable. His cock was full and incredibly sensitive; he stroked once, twice, thrice, barely able to control his own hips jerking.

They came together, in near-perfect synchronicity. Shane allowed himself a moment of pride for his timing skills — he made Ryan come pretty quickly (his previous horniness notwithstanding). Ryan leaned back on his elbows as Shane disentangled them, moving forward to pull him into a rough kiss once he rose from his knees. His hands threaded through Shane’s hair, tugging slightly, and Shane felt him grin against his lips.

“Thanks,” Ryan said when he pulled away, wearing a crooked, tired smile. He took several deep breaths, looking spent and satisfied, before sliding off the counter, shimmying his jeans back up.

“No problem,” Shane replied, a little bemused by how casual their whole post-sex exchange was. He pulled his hand from his pants, and cringed when he realized the aftermath of coming in his pants — he did indeed have cum in his boxers. “Aw, gross.”

Ryan wheezed a laugh, clapping Shane on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re going commando, big guy.” Shane glanced at his watched — Ryan was right. Not enough time to go home and change. “You’ll be alright.”

He was already preening in the mirror, trying (and failing) to smooth out his hair and unwrinkle his clothes — even if he managed, which he didn’t, he couldn’t wipe that post-sex satisfaction off his face. Something in the pit of Shane’s stomach, more tender than lust and more affectionate than intended, was proud to put that expression on him, even if it was just going to trigger unending amounts of office gossip and mockery. He knew he himself looked dazed and rumpled.

As Ryan went to unlock the door, and Shane resigned himself to ditching his boxers and freeballing, he paused. Shane hadn’t had time to really consider whether they’d do this again, and it seemed Ryan had a similar thought when he’d turned around. “So… that was fun. Top five lays at least.”

“Top five?” Shane replied, tone slightly mocking. “Oh wow, really?”

“Hey, considering we’re in a fucking office bathroom in the middle of the workday, I’d say that’s pretty good. I can bump you down for attitude.”

“You can bump me down anytime.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Wanna… keep doing this?”

“I’ll block off an appointment in my calendar. 20 minutes, two weeks from now?”

“I was thinking sooner, but if you want to wait, that’s your prerogative.”

That made Shane backtrack quickly — he hadn’t really expected Ryan to want to turn this into a full FWB situation when he’d yanked him into the bathroom but, in the same breath, he absolutely wasn’t complaining. “No, no, sooner sounds great.”

“Alright, well.” Ryan turned to leave, before pausing again. He took a step towards Shane, then a step towards the door, and a step back to Shane again.

“I thought we did this to stop you from being so… antsy and weird.”

After a beat, Ryan slapped his ass, groping it for a moment before he pulled away. “Weird, sure. Antsy, nah. I was just trying to make up my mind — if I wanted to see if anything was there or not. More than I expected.”

As he opened the door, Shane shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” he mumbled at Ryan’s back.

Ryan glanced behind him, cracking a goofy grin. “Think I can get a ‘Sasquatch is real and I fucked him’ hat now? You’re basically one in the same, right?”

“I think you’ll have to actually fuck me to get that. Come on, put your money where your mouth is.”

He rolled his eyes, still wheezing. “I’ll put it on the agenda. Have fun with your cumpants, big fella.”

“Yessir,” Shane replied, as Ryan closed the door behind him.

He took a moment to take stock of the situation, standing alone in the bathroom. So: he’d fucked his best friend, with unforseen and unconsidered consequences. He had cum in his pants. He was dazed from the fuck, and probably would be a little hazy for a few hours at least — he wasn’t seventeen anymore.

But, at the very least, he’d had a good time.

And Ryan wouldn’t be so antsy anymore.

we can get real horny / and keep messing around we can keep real quiet / won’t be making no sounds i’ll try my best / not to touch your face next time can we / please meet at my place?

#shyan #buzzfeed unsolved #shane madej #ryan bergara #jules.txt #fic*

[fartoomanybats]

Gorgeous

A/N: AU where Shane and Ryan work at the same place but not together. Very obviously inspired by Taylor Swift’s Gorgeous. Listen to it afterwards and all you’ll be able to imagine is Shane and Ryan or maybe that’s just me.

You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk.

That was at the last party. Ryan barely knew the guy, and yet he was infuriated by him. How he smirked, how he laughed, how he leaned against the wall so casually that his whole body radiated effortlessness.

Shane. They’d been working at the same place for months. But they’d never been involved in any projects together, so really all their conversations had been brief. In hallways or the break room or that one time asking about when some announcement was going to happen.

So why did he bug Ryan so much?

“I just want to punch him in his stupid gorgeous face sometimes,” Ryan had mumbled to himself at that last party, already drunk with no signs of slowing down. That’s how it had started, a brief moment between them at the party where Ryan just found himself so annoyed with this older man that somehow made jean jackets look cool.

So he’d done the obviously logical thing and drank more until he was full-on doing a Shane impersonation. With a “baby” thrown on to the end of every sentence and a literal swagger in his step.

You’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much.

The worst part of it was the next Monday, though, when Shane brought up how he’d heard Ryan’s jokes at the party.

“Heard you do a pretty good Madej,” he said, leaning up against the counter as Ryan was making himself coffee in the staff kitchen.

“Yeah...” Ryan mumbled, face reddening slightly as he concentrated on the coffee pot, hands fidgeting with the mug in his hands.

“Maybe next time I’ll get to see it,” Shane replied, his tone completely nonchalant.

Ryan merely nodded, wishing he’d never come in for coffee.

“Or,” Shane said, pushing himself up so that he was momentarily close to Ryan. “Maybe next time I’ll do you.” He held Ryan’s surprised gaze a moment before laughing. “An impression, that is.” He then stood fully but shrugged his shoulders. “Or.. whatever.” And with that, he walked out of the kitchen, leaving Ryan a confused and irritated mess in his wake.

You should take it as a compliment that I’m talking to everyone here but you.

At the next party, Ryan was pointedly avoiding Shane.

It wasn’t too hard to do. Their company had a fair amount of people, and most of them were young, and as such, still were down to get drunk at half-stranger’s houses. Probably why we have so many parties, Ryan had mused to himself.

Throughout the night, Ryan moved between groups, talking about work or debating what would happen next season on Game of Thrones. It really seemed like he had talked to everyone but Shane, and honestly, he liked it that way.

A ping from his phone pulled him away from the conversation he was in. He looked down to see a message from Brent, a guy he was talking to, about how he was going to some bar or club or whatever. Ryan read the message without replying, putting it back in his pocket.

“You still seeing him?” Jen asked on the other side of him, nodding toward Ryan’s phone as he put it away.

Ryan shrugged. “I guess.” He raised his cup of unknown mixed alcohol to his lips, taking a drink.

Jen raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything else.

You should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room.

It was a few hours later, when the party was beginning to die down, that Ryan’s luck of avoiding Shane ran out.

Ryan was in one of the back rooms, sitting at a table, having just finished a round of sports trivia with Zach and Justin. The two of them talked about getting more drinks, leaving Ryan alone for a minute.

“No stand-up tonight?”

Ryan looked up suddenly, seeing Shane walking towards the table with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Nah,” Ryan breathed, hoping his voice came out calm. “Not totally wasted this time.” He gestured with a raise of his cup. Being only buzzed was definitely helping him at least keep his feelings towards Shane to himself.

“I see,” Shane said, voice even but with a hint of amusement. He brought his own drink to rest of the table, his hand touching Ryan’s before he pulled up another stool to the table and took a seat.

Ryan blinked several times, glancing at his own hands on the table. The touch had been too long to have been a coincidence. Hadn’t it? His thoughts jumbled around Shane, and damn, how he hated him for it.

Ryan looked up to see Shane looking back, an easy smile on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes that made Ryan’s heart skip a beat.

How did Shane always make him feel like this? Excited and confused and annoyed and hopeful all at once. Hell, he didn’t even know if Shane had a girlfriend, a boyfriend, or if he was single. At this point, Ryan wasn’t sure which was worse.

Despite Ryan’s struggle to find coherent thoughts, the two of them actually managed to hold a conversation. Shane making him laugh so hard that it hurt, and Ryan noticing how that, in turn, made Shane smile even brighter.

“And that’s just how it happened,” Shane finished with a satisfied voice. He picked up his drink as Ryan was putting his back down.

“Sure, sure,” Ryan conceded. He nodded, watching as Shane finished his drink with a lick of his lips.

“I--” Ryan was going to say something, but he found his thoughts had stopped suddenly as he looked up. Meeting Shane’s gaze, looking into his eyes, Ryan felt like he might drown in them, and that he might be okay with that.

“Something interesting?” Shane mused, his tone a mix of teasing and sarcasm, that smirk etching itself into his features once again.

“Shut up, Shane.” Ryan replied without thinking, earning a hearty laugh from the other man.

“My boys!” Came a loud, probably half-drunk voice. Ryan looked up to see Jen, who was smiling at the two of them. “Not to kill the mood, but it’s closing time.” She tipped her drink to the two of them before walking back out of the room, a distant melody of “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” following her.

“Fair enough,” Shane said, standing up and stretching slightly, his shirt rising up for the briefest moment. An image that simultaneously made Ryan want to roll his eyes at the cliché but also made him want more. Damn him.

“Closing time,” Shane repeated in a sing-song voice, tossing his empty cup in the trash can nearby. “You got any other plans tonight?”

“What?” Ryan asked, then shook his head. “Oh, no, no.” He took a few seconds before asking, “Do you?”

The taller man looked back at him, his gaze making Ryan's cheeks feel heated. “Mmm, not sure,” Shane replied casually before giving a shrug. “Guess I’ll just stumble on home alone.” He was pulling on his jacket now, turned slightly away from Ryan.

Ryan merely nodded, his heart thudding in his chest.

Shane turned back, looking at him completely before giving him an easy smile.

“Unless you wanna come along.”

#shyan #skeptic believer #buzzfeed unsolved #shane madej #ryan bergara #mine #feedback always welcome :) #sort of implied cheating? #depends on how you see it #like ryan is seeing someone (AKA a few dates/talking) but things aren't really serious or sincere

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Reflecting Light

Chapter One

Author’s Note: Sorry this is a day late, I did not feel up for any editing on Saturday, which is when I usually do so. Next chapter should still be out on time.

Chapter Six:

So here’s the thing.  Remus was very comfortable sleeping with noise.

For most of his life he’d fallen asleep to the sound of Roman’s not-so-quiet snoring.  When he was younger it had often included Patton and Logan’s snoring too, when the four of them had planned sleepovers.  And even through the night there were guard changes, night missions, drills being run.  Remus had learned how to fall asleep with sound.

Which is why having everyone on the ship having a small cabin to themselves created problems for him.  There wasn’t even the rocking of the ship that would have come if they were on the sea.  The closest thing Remus got to regular noise was the occasional bird flying past them, forget about consistent snoring.

Now, generally speaking Remus was very familiar with sleep deprivation.  If that was all this new situation brought, he’d be fine.  Unfortunately, about a week after Janus’ famed sword fight defeat, when his fear of being hurt by someone was finally starting to fade, the nightmares started.

Roman was in most of them, which was the least surprising thing about this whole situation.  Remus lost count of how many times he’d seen Roman ripped in half, or beaten to a pulp, or bleeding out on the ground in front of him.  Sometimes it was Shane’s fault in the dream, meaning that Remus woke up with a ball of guilt in his throat and the sudden fear of Oh God I left him there alone what are they going to do to him.  It took Remus a couple minutes of rationalizing to calm himself down, but he usually ended up in the same place.  Roman was the good twin.  Remus was the screw up.  Just because Remus wasn’t there to cover for him anymore didn’t mean Shane was going to hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.  Besides, Roman had to have taken that into account, and been more careful as a result.

Sometimes Patton and Logan were in the dream.  It was far easier to rationalize his way out of those.  Those two hadn’t done anything wrong in their lives.  Well, unless someone somehow figured out that they were stealing from the kitchen.  But they’d been doing that for almost two decades at this point.  There was no reason someone would find them now.

And then there was tonight’s declaration via his unconscious brain, that in case he wasn’t already aware, he now cared about Janus and Virgil.

���

“Remus!”

Remus whirled around at Virgil’s scream.  He’d never heard him sound like that before, but the second he turned around he understood the reason.  Virgil was splayed out on the ground, gasping, blood spurting from his stomach.

“Virgil!” Remus cried.  He reached out to try and help Virgil, but couldn’t get his feet to move to get any closer.

“Remus!” called another voice, and Remus spun around again, this time to find Janus in a similar state to Virgil.  He struggled to reach forward once again, and once again got nowhere.

“No!” Remus cried.  “No, no, hang on, I can help, I know how, just let me—”

Remus strained forward, but still didn’t get anywhere.

He heard Virgil cry out and spun around to find a shadowy figure dragging him further away.

“No!  Hey, give him back!” Remus cried, straining for Virgil.  But as that was happening, he heard screaming from the other side of him, and spun around to see another figure pulling Janus in the other direction.  As Remus took a minute to strain in that direction instead, hands grabbed him from behind and Remus heard very familiar laughter in his ear.

“Well, it seems once a worthless soldier always a worthless soldier,” Shane whispered.  Remus felt his breath hot on his neck.  “You still can’t protect anyone, can you?”

“Let me go!” Remus screamed, straining against Shane, and making exactly zero progress.  “I’m going to kill you!” Remus screamed, though the words fell into the air like an empty threat.

Sure enough Shane laughed again, and pulled Remus even closer.  “You’re going to fail,” he hissed.  “Like you always do.  Just watch.”

Remus kept pulling against Shane’s hands.  He couldn’t even see Janus or Virgil anymore, but he had to keep trying, he couldn’t let Shane be right, they couldn’t get hurt because of him—

…

Remus jerked awake.  The hands were still on him, they were holding him back he had to—

Remus rolled over and fell to the ground.  He blinked at the sudden rush of pain that ran through the knees that he’d landed on.  He blinked for another second, the pain grounding him slightly as he realized that there hadn’t been hands grabbing him, he’d just been tangled in his blanket.

And Janus and Virgil… they could take care of themselves.  They had to have some knowledge of how to treat wounds.  In fact, he knew that they did.  Janus had helped him with the bandages that he’d had wrapped around his hands for two days after the broken cup incident.

And Shane was gone.  He wasn’t going to hurt Janus or Virgil.  If he tried, Remus would just stand in his way.  Granted, if they met up with Shane, they’d probably just take him out since he was a Light soldier.  And they would totally be able to handle it, because they could handle themselves.  But still, if it came down to it, he would take whatever Shane wanted to do to them.  He would do it.

“Well, it seems once a worthless soldier always a worthless soldier.”

Remus flinched.  Well, now he was thinking about the way they’d looked in the dreams again.  He liked blood and that had been a little much.

Remus looked over at his door and pushed himself up off the ground.  He wasn’t going to be a worthless soldier.  Not for Janus and Virgil.  He couldn’t imagine that they were in any danger on a ship in the middle of the air, but that didn’t mean anything.  It hadn’t mattered how theoretically safe someone was back home, after all.  It was still his fault for failing to guard properly.

Remus opened the door and headed out into the hallway, down to the two largest rooms at the end of it for Janus and Virgil.  He slid open the door for Virgil’s room first and—

And he wasn’t there.

Remus’ breath caught and he spun around, half expecting to see Virgil’s blood-covered corpse  in the hallway behind him.  Nothing was there, and he looked back and forth, hoping Virgil would magically show up and Remus could stop freaking out.  But he wasn’t anywhere.  Oh, god, he wasn’t anywhere and Remus was worthless he couldn’t even protect the people important to him, fuck where was Virgil—

Remus stumbled towards the next door that led to Janus’ room.  He yanked the door open, probably a little louder than he should have, but a second after he did the very person he was looking for jerked upright and looked towards the door.

“What— Remus?” Virgil asked, blinking a couple times as he seemingly tried to wake himself up.

Half of the tension in Remus’ body melted out of him and he collapsed against the side of the door.  Janus shifted in the bed next to Virgil and grumbled as he sat up too.  “Why is there a person, and no sun?” he asked.

“Sorry,” Remus gasped.  “I just— I couldn’t find Virgil and I didn’t want him to die before I found him and—”  And he wasn’t really making any sense, was he?

“Woah, hey, slow down.”  Virgil moved the blankets aside and stood up.  “Are you okay?  Nightmare?”

“What?  No, don’t be ridiculous,” Remus said, scooting backwards.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Janus said, seeming a little more awake than a second ago.  “Why do you think Virgil’s here?”

“He— huh?”

Virgil waved slightly.  “Nightmares.  They suck,” he said with a nod.

Remus took a minute to process that.  He swallowed.  “Oh.”  He didn’t say anything for another minute.  “I—”

“Alright, come here,” Virgil said, patting the bed next to him.

“What?  No, I’m fine.  I just… I just wanted to make sure you guys…” he trailed off.

“Were okay?” Virgil finished gently.

“…weren’t bleeding out in front of me,” Remus mumbled, nudging the ground with his toe.

“Yeesh.  Yeah, come sit.”  Virgil patted the bed again.

Remus started forward hesitantly, and Janus shifted over so there was space for Remus.

“You okay?” Virgil asked again.

Remus reached out hesitantly and poked Virgil on the cheek, just to make sure he was there.  He was.  He turned to Janus a second later, and squeezed his already offered hand.  “I’m okay,” he muttered.

“Excellent.  Come join the cuddle pile, then,” Janus said, rolling over and closing his eyes.

“Uh… what?”

“Yeah, he has no filter when he’s tired,” Virgil said, grinning a little.  “Feel free to tease him about the fact that he said ‘cuddle pile’ in the morning.  I can confirm that he will not get the least bit irritated.”

“Something tells me that’s not correct,” Remus said.

Virgil laughed a little.  “Okay, seriously.  You want to stay?”

“I really just came in here to check on you,” Remus muttered, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt.

“Okay, and now you’ve done that.  You want to stay?”

Remus looked up hesitantly.  Virgil smiled encouragingly.  “We do it all the time,” he said.  “Really.”

“I… I always slept with my brother growing up,” Remus admitted.  He paused.  “You know, at the orphanage.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a brother,” Virgil said in surprise.

Well.  Shit.  How to get out of this one?

“Well, um.  Had,” Remus said weakly, because yeah, that works.

Virgil’s gaze softened a little in sympathy, and now Remus felt worse.

“Yeah, okay, come join the cuddle pile,” Virgil said with a firm nod, moving slightly to give Remus a spot in between him and Janus.

Remus hesitated, and laid down.  “Can I tease you about saying ‘cuddle pile’ in the morning?” he asked as Virgil did the same.

“Absolutely not.”

…

Joining Janus and Virgil in Janus’ cabin became far more common than Remus would have expected.  He found himself the next morning with an extended (heh, extended) offer to go to either of them if he ever wanted to.  He was growing closer to the two of them than anyone else on the ship, after all, and they seemed to have noticed that about the same time he did.

But while going there after a nightmare helped him calm down, the nightmares didn’t really stop.  Remus had tried brainstorming various solutions before as to what would help, and Virgil and Janus had pitched a couple of ideas too, but so far the nightmares continued.

It’s not like it was affecting his work in any way, Remus had gotten used to working while sleep deprived.  But it did make him a little scared to go to sleep.

Remus came up with a solution on a night that he wasn’t quite comfortable with going to Janus’ cabin.  He headed up to the deck to guard the sleeping quarters from up there, as he didn’t think that much else would be able to calm him down that night.

But he hadn’t been up there for more than a couple minutes before he heard his name called from behind.

“Remus?”

“Go away, Virgil,” Remus snapped without turning around.

“Remus, didn’t you stay up all last night?  You need to try and get some sleep.”

“Can’t.”

“Can’t?”

“Can’t.”

Virgil took a couple hesitant steps forward.  “Okay,” he said slowly.  “Why can’t you?”

Remus didn’t say anything, gritting his teeth.

“You want to come to my cabin?  Or we can both go to Janus.’”

Remus was quiet for another moment.  “Didn’t want to wake you up,” he said finally, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, we’ve told you before we don’t mind.  It’s okay.”

Remus blinked a couple times and yawned, the anger fading as the exhaustion finally started to catch up.  “My brains being mean,” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.

“Ah.  I see.”  Virgil walked over and stood next to him on the deck.  “You wanna tell me what it’s saying?”

How could you leave all of them there you monster they’re going to get hurt someone’s going to hurt them and it’s going to be all your fault because you failed to be strong enough to stay and protect them and then any of them who survive are going to hate you—

Remus pushed hands over his ears and whined, shaking his head.

“Hey, hey, look at me.”

Remus managed to.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Virgil said, pulling Remus’ hands down from his ears.  “Everything’s alright.”

Remus stepped back slightly out of Virgil’s hands and pressed himself back against the wall of the ship, trying the four, seven, eight breathing exercise Virgil had taught him.

Virgil stepped closer and stood back against the wall right next to Remus, probably so Remus could hear his breathing too, which he was loudly exaggerating.

They stood there for a moment until Remus was able to calm his breathing down.  Virgil turned to look at him when he suddenly hissed in pain.

“Shit,” he said, pulling his arm to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Remus exclaimed, all the fear rushing back in an instant.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Virgil reassured.  “Just got a splinter.  This is why I wear long sleeves most of the year.  Well, this and the fact that we’re flying hundreds of feet above the ground.”

“Let me treat it,” Remus said instantly, taking Virgil’s other arm and leading him back down below deck towards the medbay.

“Wait, what?  Remus, seriously, I’m fine—”

“Please let me treat it,” Remus said again.

“It’s just a splinter,” Virgil said, but he didn’t fight Remus at all as he pulled them both into the medbay and sat Virgil down on the table.  Remus pulled out bandages for minor wounds, which was probably overkill but his brain definitely wasn’t getting the picture right now.  He grabbed a pair of tweezers and held Virgil’s hand out in front of him, then used the tweezers to pull the splinter out.

He looked at the tiny red spot on Virgil’s hand that was already fading and made the obvious assumption that it did not need any bandages.

Remus let out a slow breath and moved to lean back against the wall.

“Better?” Virgil asked quietly, standing from the table.

Remus nodded.  “Much better.  Sorry I can’t— my brain just won’t shut up I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Virgil said, leaning back next to Remus again.  “Trust me, I get it.  Whatever helps sometimes, you know?”

Remus nodded slightly.  “Do you have a medic on board?”

“We call them the ship doctor,” Virgil said.  “But no.  We all kinda know basic first aid.”

“Do you need one?”

“Are you offering?” Virgil asked in surprise.

“It helps me calm down,” Remus admitted.  “I know how to take care of wounds beyond a first aid level.  And I think it would help if I knew it was my job to help you when you get injured.”

Virgil gave him a puzzled look.  “That doesn’t really follow.”

“Yeah, I don’t get it either.  But it worked tonight.”

Virgil looked at him for a moment longer and then nodded.  “I think that would be okay,” he said.  “I’ll run it by Janus tomorrow.”

Remus took a deep breath, and felt his brain finally start to shut up.  “Okay,” he said.  “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Virgil said.  “You’re important to me, you know.”

Remus scrunched up his nose.  “I haven’t even known you for a month.”

“Uh, so fucking what?  Is there a special number of days for how long it has to be before you care a lot about someone?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said.  “But I don’t think it’s been long enough.”

“Sorry bud, but that ain’t your decision,” Virgil said, patting Remus on the shoulder as he pushed off the wall.  “Now come on.  Let’s go wake up Janus and tell him to scoot over.”

He headed out of the medbay, and Remus smiled a little as he followed.

Chapter Seven

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #pirates #rebellion #angst #abuse #tw abuse #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #my fic

[saturninemartial]

Me and You - Part 1

Rating: This chapter is just General or Teen; but part 2 will be Mature or explicit. Ship: Shyan (Shane Madej/Ryan Bergara) Warnings: None Series: I love you more than I ever loved anyone before, or anyone to come. Synopsis: A stupid marriage proposal. Notes: I’m going to make this into a series of twoshots or something, because I know exactly what I wanna write. This is my first work in this fandom!!

AO3 link

The question comes out of the blue, interrupting the comfortable silence they’ve been sharing for at least the past hour. The crunching of gravel and twigs underfoot has been their soundtrack, with the occasional small, short comment about something they see during this hike just outside of LA.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” There’s a tinge of apprehension on Ryan’s voice; he’s obviously been thinking about this a lot but seems afraid of what Shane will think; and Shane doesn’t like the thought of Ryan being afraid of asking him something, especially if it pertains to them. Shane blinks, and a tiny frown quirks on his lips.

“That’s a loaded question if I ever heard one,” he remarks, but almost immediately realizes it’s a mistake. Ryan huffs a sigh, and Shane can see him retreating back into his mind. They’ve been out in the sun a little while, but a little embarrassment seems to color the younger’s cheeks.

“Never mind. Forget I said anything,” Ryan mumbles, looking away. Well, that riles Shane up a little bit.

“You brought it up, obviously it’s important to you,” Shane reasons, his tone chiding.

“No—you know I sometimes say things without thinking!”

“Yeah, but that means it comes from your heart or whatever; and besides, I could practically hear you thinking over there! Just explain to me what you’re thinking!”

“Okay!” Ryan’s voice rings out; they’re practically talking over each other at this point, which is nothing new to them. He sighs again, having slowed his steps, though they’re still walking. “I was just thinking…” His voice is much quieter again, almost dripping with a timidness that Shane doesn’t like. He’s hedging, the older can tell, trying to stall a little. Shane raises an eyebrow at him, and Ryan fidgets, rubbing the back of his neck. “What if we got married? You and me?”

This time, both of Shane’s eyebrows rise slightly as he weighs this. It doesn’t surprise him too much—he knows Ryan is a huge, sappy romantic—but he thinks their relationship is just fine the way it is. “You wanna get married? You wanna marry me?” The second part is what’s surprising to him; as cocky as Shane likes to act, anyone ever wanting to marry him, of all people, is laughable. Ryan is husband material. Shane, not so much.

“I… Yeah?” Ryan glances up at him for a moment, then focuses on the trail again. They’ve been doing this ‘Ryan and Shane, Shane and Ryan’ thing long enough—first just as work partners, and then as romantic partners too—that talking about relationship things has always been fairly easy. And Shane hates so much that Ryan seems afraid of asking him; and Shane hates that he might give an answer that Ryan doesn’t like.

The silence falls again, but not for too long as Shane has finished formulating his answer. “I don’t see any reason we should. You can have a perfectly fine committed relationship for the rest of your life without getting the government involved. You don’t have to tell anyone else that you love each other, all you need is each other.” They’re both old enough now that the ‘rest of your life together’ thing isn’t so daunting, and in fact feels realistic enough. And even though they still act like best buddies, their love still burns hot and deeply enough that it doesn’t feel stupid talking about the rest of their lives.

Shane looks over, and Ryan’s jaw is set slightly. He’s thinking. “That’s…noble, I guess, and touching that you even bring up spending the rest of your life of me. But you forget just how much the government is involved regardless. And how much everything else is involved too. There’s tax benefits, and being able to sign off on various things together. And what if something happens to one of us? A hospital, or a-a funeral home is going to take a spouse a lot more seriously than just a boyfriend. A spouse gets more rights than just a boyfriend does. A spouse is like an immediate family kind of thing, a spouse can legally make decisions for the other person. And—“ Ryan is staring up at Shane, big dark eyes shining with passion in that Ryan way. “And don’t forget the fight for marriage equality. So many people had to live in long-term relationships and not have the things I just mentioned, they weren’t allowed to see their partners in the hospital, they weren’t included in funeral arrangements, they weren’t in obituaries even though they were with their partners for years and helped them with everything! And I also…” He licks his lips. “I kinda just wanna get married.” He finishes with a lame shrug.

The first thing out of Shane’s mouth, after a beat of silence, is, “You’re already thinking about me dying?” which is met by an elbow into Shane’s ribs.

“Shut the fuck up, Shane.”

Shane shakes his head, laughing slightly. “Nah, you do raise a lot of good points though. That whole speech just shows why I love you. You’re passionate as fuck but also really well-informed and smart.”

“…Thanks.” Shane can hear the blush in Ryan’s voice.

“Welcome, baby. I guess it does worry me a little bit that maybe we’ll end up shooting somewhere dangerous and one of us gets hurt and has to go to the hospital. Or we get really old, since getting old comes with just a whole shit ton of problems.”

Ryan laughs, something breathy and shaky. “Yeah, if I even live that long. Unsolved has probably taken years off my life at this point.” Their hands find each other, and Shane’s thumb smooths over the back of Ryan’s hand. He can tell Ryan’s nerves are still thrumming. But Shane has been pretty much convinced, and not just because he wants to make his boyfriend happy.

“Well? You wanna get married?” Shane looks down at him, brows raised in proposition.

“Didn’t I just fucking say I wanted to?”

“Then we’ll get married.” It’s decisive and confident; and Ryan looks back up at him, their eyes meeting. Ryan’s eyes still have something shining in them—love adoration, something, Shane doesn’t like to toot his own horn that much—and the older man experiences an onslaught of emotion. That weird, funny feeling in his stomach that he’s been getting ever since things with Ryan turned romantic, the good kind of weird, funny feeling that you get when the person you like or love does something you love; and an overwhelming amount of protectiveness.

Maybe it’s the emotion that Ryan instills in him, but getting married actually doesn’t sound too bad now. He gets to protect this wonderful human being for the rest of his natural life (he’d say forever but that would mean admitting that ghosts exist). And really—Ryan is his best friend, so there would be no better choice for Shane to marry than him.

They fall into silence again, hands still loosely connected as they continue their little trek. The gears are still turning in Ryan’s head though; his pensive expression is such a giveaway. Even though it might not be so obvious to others, Shane thinks the gears turning in Ryan’s head need to be oiled as they’re too noisy. It makes Shane worry just a little bit this time. Has he done something wrong? He glances down at their hands: his right and Ryan’s left.

He stops, which startles Ryan a little bit.

“Something wrong?” Ryan asks, concerned. Oh no—he’s probably starting to think he’s twisted Shane’s arm into this marriage thing. Even though Shane’s arm is pretty hard to twist, he knows Ryan does get a little embarrassed about his more sentimental tendencies (which is kind of cute).

The older man releases his boyfriend’s hand and looks around them on the ground, biting into his lip in thought. Previous hikers have left all manner of trash along the path, despite the various signs saying not to. In a stroke of blind dumbness, he bends down and paws through a pile of leaves, twigs, and pieces of trash, which earns him an expected indignant questioning from Ryan. But he persists, and finds a good piece of garbage: a Jack Link Matador wrapper.

“Shut up for one moment and let me put my plan to fruition.” Shane sinks down onto one knee. Ryan’s expression is at first one of confusion; but then the realization… It’s when Shane knows he fucked this all up. The surprise and reverence on Ryan’s features loudly display just how much this whole thing means to him; and Shane finds that he actually loves that look so much; and now he hates himself for wasting this moment, that they’ll never get it back, or be able to redo it with the same amount of impact. “Ryan Steven Bergara, will you do me the absolute utmost pleasure of marrying me?”

A huge grin works its way across the younger man’s face. “Of course, you fucking idiot! We’ve already discussed this!”

“Yeah, but I know this kind of thing is important to you.” Shane takes his boyfriend’s left hand and ties the beef jerky wrapper around his ring finger, and Ryan throws his head back and laughs.

“You’re the fucking worst,” he admonishes Shane with a huge grin, cupping the older man’s face in his hands. Shane stands again, cupping the sides of Ryan’s neck.

“That’s not how you talk to your future husband,” Shane chastises softly, also grinning. The quietest of 'I love you's is exchanged, barely louder than a breath; then Ryan stretches a little, and their lips meet, the younger man humming softly in the back of his throat. It’s something sweet, and loving, and soft; and these sweet, loving, and soft moments are cherished by both of them as they’re often very loud and passionate.

“You’re going to make a great ghost husband someday,” Ryan says softly when they break apart, wearing a shit eating grin.

“That’s—“ Shane scoffs, exasperated, though it’s playful. “Why are you so eager to have me dead?”

Ryan only laughs in reply, obviously giddy; and Shane can’t help but to think about how much he loves this man, supernatural absurdity and all.

#shyan #bfu #i love you more series