#1000% no angst

[manicpixievixen]

Movie nights with logan, but it's literally ten at night, and he's somehow still in jeans while you cuddle on the couch.

You look up at him, he was already looking back. "Babe, do you wanna change? I can pause it."

"huh?" His eyebrow raises a little.

"Do you not wanna be in like, comfortable clothes?" You ask him. And he just sort of shrugs because he's always lived uncomfortably comfortable.

Rough and ready for a fight, ready to run, the wolverine settled down on occasion but not like that. Not with the light of a fireplace while he watched romcoms and cheesy slasher films with you, not with cozy pajama pants and each other's favorite snacks.

So the next time he has a quiet night in with you, you wordlessly hand him a pair of fluffy pajama pants, matching the ones you currently wear. They aren't like him, they're soft and comfortable and new. He thinks to himself that his claws could tear them apart in seconds. He almost feels stupid to put them on and think the gentle life could be his.

But he ties the drawstrings loosley around his waist anyway and joins you on the couch. This time, he was a little calmer, a little more settled, content.

[that-bitch-kat3]

regulus: why did you take him away from me?

james: take him away? regulus he would’ve died in that house. you know that.

regulus: no he wouldn’t have, i was trying to protect him! i would’ve protected him-

james: i couldn’t let him get any more hurt. he’s my brother, when he gets hurt i have to be there-

regulus: he was my brother first.

[shurikthereject]

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!! Ever since i started to post my silly art on here you all have been nothing but wonderful and super nice, and im ever so grateful to be part of this community. Thank you to all of my mutuals that inspire me to continue to create hobbit content with their amazing art.

[prideprejudce]

the tragedy of alicent and rhaenyra giving their hearts (and bodies) to incredibly violent (and misogynistic) men while craving normal human comfort and affection (that they once had from each other) but it never measuring up to their past lives together and instead leaving them feeling hollow and alone

[wolvietxt]

any maybe this one for Daryl too if you have the time… 👀 I love the way you write the softer side of Daryl 🥺

unexpected laughter: grumpy is having a rough day, but sunshine tells a ridiculous joke or does something silly, and to everyone’s surprise, grumpy actually laughs - loud and genuine - despite trying to stay serious

DARYL was having one of those days. everything seemed to grate on his nerves - from the way the sun beat down too hot overhead to the way everyone seemed intent on being in his space.  

he’d spent the entire morning repairing a busted cart wheel, only to find out the axle was cracked too. by noon, he’d snapped at carol for hovering, glared at rick for asking too many questions, and muttered curses under his breath when judith toddled too close and almost stepped on his tools.  

and then there was you. you’d been hovering too, always trying to help, trying to cheer him up.  

“you want water?” you’d asked earlier, your voice all chipper and light.  

“don’t need nothin’,” he’d grumbled, not even looking up.  

you weren’t fazed, though. you rarely were when it came to him, which was both impressive and mildly infuriating. you had this way of brushing off his mood like it was nothing, sticking around no matter how hard he tried to push you off.  

so when you wandered into the yard again after lunch, daryl let out a low groan. he didn’t even look up as you plopped down on the bench next to his tools.  

“you’re still mad at the world, huh?” you teased, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees.  

“ain’t mad,” he muttered, jamming the wrench onto the axle with more force than necessary.  

“you sure? ‘cause you’ve been growling at everyone like a rabid dog since breakfast.”  

he shot you a glare, but you just smiled sweetly, like his bad mood wasn’t even a blip on your radar.  

“what do you want?” he grunted, returning to his work.  

“nothing. just thought you might need a little cheering up.”  

he let out a short, humorless laugh. “don’t need cheerin’.”  

“oh, i beg to differ,” you replied, your tone light. “you’ve got that permanent scowl thing going on. you’re like a storm cloud in human form.”  

he didn’t respond, too focused on the stubborn bolt that wouldn’t budge. you watched him for a few moments, your head tilted as if you were sizing him up.  

then, out of nowhere, you asked, “hey, daryl, what do you call a deer with no eyes?”  

he froze, his brow furrowing as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “what?”  

you grinned, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “no-eye-deer!”  

his jaw tightened, and he looked back at the cart like he hadn’t even heard you.  

undeterred, you leaned a little closer. “okay, okay, i got another one. what do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?”  

“don’t care,” he muttered, but you were already finishing the joke.  

“still no-eye-deer!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together like it was the funniest thing in the world.  

this time, his shoulders tensed, and for a second, you thought he might actually snap. instead, he just shook his head and muttered, “you’re impossible.”  

you pouted dramatically. “c’mon, daryl, that was a good one!”  

he grunted, but you weren’t done yet. you tapped your chin like you were deep in thought, then brightened as if you’d just remembered something brilliant.  

“oh! what do you call a fake noodle?”  

he sighed loudly, wrench still in hand. “don’t.”  

“an impasta!”  

that was it. something in him snapped - not in anger, but in disbelief. he let out a short, bark-like laugh before he could stop himself, quickly clamping his mouth shut as if he could take it back.  

your jaw dropped, and you pointed at him triumphantly. “i knew it! i made you laugh!”  

“did not,” he muttered, his ears turning pink as he went back to the cart.  

“did too,” you shot back, grinning from ear to ear. “you laughed. loud and everything.”  

he shook his head, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching, like he was fighting to keep the grin off his face. “you’re an idiot.”  

“maybe,” you said with a shrug, “but i made the grumpiest man alive laugh, so i’ll take it.”  

he finally looked at you then, his expression softening despite the lingering frustration in his eyes. “you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”  

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you replied, your smile unwavering.  

he shook his head again, but this time it was more in amusement than annoyance. “get outta here before you break somethin’.”  

“fine,” you said, standing up and brushing off your pants. “but just so you know, i’ve got plenty more where that came from.”  

“god help me,” he muttered, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips as you walked away.  

and for the rest of the day, every time he thought about that ridiculous joke, he couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that crept across his face.

ᰔ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs, @iheartpeterparker3000

@withasideofmeg, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[toyogamii]

lifeline - y.itadori

it's unnaturally quiet as yuuji wraps bandages around your arm and torso. you flinch when he pushes to hard and he winces slightly, halting his movements. both of you are staring at the ground, not even looking at each other.

"yu-"

"y/-"

you start at the same time, finally meeting each other's eye. you swallow hard,

"you go first."

he pauses.

"why did- why didn't you call me?" he whispers, his fists are clenched at his side, his teeth gritted slightly. you look down, ashamed of your reckless actions that had almost gotten you killed.

"i thought i could handle it... i didn't want you to think i was weak."

his face and shoulders fall and suddenly he's wrapping his arms as tightly as he possibly can around you without hurting you.

"i would never think of you as weak," yuuji proclaims, "but please- please call me. i can't... lose you."

you sniffle softly, burying your face in his neck.

"i'm sorry."

exhaustion from the fight with the curse is seeping into your bones as you lean on yuuji.

"it's okay," he mumbles into your hair, holding you tighter, "just... please don't ever almost die on me again."

you relax against him with a small laugh.

"i'll try."

[drabblesandimagines]

You said it yourself for the request trope: "forbidden love of best man and bride" 😉 Of course, with who else other than LEON S. KENNEDY!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Forever Hold Your Peace

Female reader x Chris Redfield, x Leon Kennedy, angst Leon feels like he can’t breathe. There’s a phantom pressure around his throat, like any breath he takes in is barely skimming the top of his lungs.

It’s not the tie – he’s checked, loosening it several times before doing it back up again. He hardly wears a tie, it had never been his style, really. That, and too obvious to be used as a weapon against him in hand-to-hand combat.

Not that he’s expecting to get into a brawl today.

A heavy hand slaps down on his back, jolting him out of his train of thought. “You look more anxious than me.”

“Nah,” he turns and steps back, creating a bit of distance between him and Chris.  “You’re just projecting.”

“Maybe.” Chris approaches the mirror in two long strides and sighs. “You know what? I’d kill for a cigarette.” “Want me to go grab a packet?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, straightening his tie in the mirror. “I quit. Promised I’d be shot of it by the honeymoon. You could do me another favour, though.”

Leon lifts his arms wide, gesturing to his appearance. “Being your best man not count as enough favours for a lifetime?”

“Technically this falls into the responsibilities of a best man.” Chris squats down and Leon braces himself to hear the fabric rip - they’d spent an afternoon being fitted at a tailor, Redfield’s thighs and forearms were never gonna be accommodated off the rack – but it holds true. He stands upright, a silver giftbag held out in offering. “Could you take this to my bride-to-be?”

“Oh.” There’s the phantom squeeze again. “Don’t you… want to?”

“I can’t. It’s bad luck to see each other before the ceremony,” Chris shrugs, holding the gift bag out again in expectation, but Leon still doesn’t try to take it.  

“And you believe in that?” He scoffs as he puts his hands in his pockets.

“No… but I’m not jinxing anything today. It won’t take long – the bridal suite’s the floor above. Please?”

Leon sighs and accepts the gift bag at last.

--

You take a tentative sip of champagne to calm your nerves. It was the first moment all morning you’d been on your own – the room being a hub of activity since your alarm had gone off. The wedding planner had hit a snag with something or other and Claire had hurriedly offered to go and sort it in your steed.

This is it - in over an hour’s time you’d be Mrs Redfield. You hadn’t thought the day would ever come, but now, as you sat in your wedding dress that made you feel like a princess, sat at the dressing table in the bridal suite, you allow yourself to get a little bit excited. It had been a long engagement and you’d been fine with that, truly. What did a piece of paper saying you were husband and wife matter anyway? But Chris had returned from Romania, stoic and silent for a few days before mumbling in bed late one night that he wanted to start looking at venues. Soon after, a date was booked, a wedding planner hired, invitation cards sent out, food and wine tasting, a visit to a bakery when you’d smeared frosting on each other’s faces as you taste-tested what would be your wedding cake and, finally, bought your wedding dress – none of it had felt real. There was bound to be something that came up, a mission that would take him to foreign soil and mean the wedding had to be delayed.

There’s a hesitant knock at the door and you swivel on the stool, curious who it could be.

“Come in!”

The door opens, slowly, and a suited Leon S Kennedy walks in.

“Leon.” You hitch your skirt up to get to your feet, inexplicably feeling silly in the dress that had made you feel like a princess moments before. “Hi.”

“Wow. You look…” He trails off, breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.

“Terrible?” You tease, wanting to break the awkward silence.

“No.” He replies quickly, leaning back up against the door to close it. “You look beautiful.”

“Oh,” your cheeks prickle with heat at his compliment. “Thank you. You look great too.”

“Yeah, reckon I scrubbed up all right.” Leon chuckles with a shrug, before remembering the gift bag in his hand. “Er, here.” He straightens up and walks forward to meet you halfway across the room, holding it out.

“You shouldn’t have.” You accept it, your fingers brushing over his and goosebumps running up your arm at the contact. “Thank you.”  

“I didn’t.” He answers, abruptly, pulling his hand back and slipping it in his pocket. “I mean, I… There’s a card downstairs in the box. This is from Chris – he asked me to drop it off.”

“He did?” You can’t help the giddy smile that crosses your lips and Leon casts his eyes down to the ground – it’s not for him. You place the gift bag down on the table and pull out a small jewelry box from within, a notecard on top.

We made it, sweetheart. All my love, Chris x

You open the box carefully – scared of scratching off your nail polish – and find a simple silver heart-shaped pendent on a silver chain.

“What is it?”

“A necklace,” you hold it aloft in demonstration. “I didn’t get him anything, I didn’t even think to. Isn’t that awful?”

“You turning up at the altar will be gift enough for him, I’m sure.” Leon jokes, but he knows it lands flat from your polite laugh as you place the necklace carefully back in the box. “Aren’t you going to put it on?”

“Oh, erm, I don’t think I can, what with the veil and the hair, I’m scared I’ll detach something. Claire will be back soon anyway.”

Leon steps forward. “I can help?”

“Honestly, I’m sure she won’t be long.”

“I want to. Call it part of the delivery service.” His hand hovers over the jewelry box, awaiting permission.

“Okay.”

He picks it up, delicately, and steps right in front of you, before fiddling with the clasp of the chain. He’s careful as he holds both ends of the chain and reaches around your neck, impressed by how steady his hands are when his heart is pounding in his chest.

He withdraws one hand and hooks a finger under the chain, nestling it so the pendant sits just right in your decolletage.

This is the closest he’s been to you in years, your signature scent overwhelming his senses - of course you’d want to wear it on your wedding day – and somehow his hand is now on your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t.

But he does, pressing his lips softly against yours.

For a moment, you reciprocate. Your hand automatically lifts to tangle in his locks before you regain your senses. “No.” You pull back, mad at yourself, mad at Leon. “No – this isn’t fair. You had your chance, you had multiple chances. You said you didn’t want a relationship.”

“I couldn’t give you this.” He gestures to your dress. “Not with my lifestyle.”

“I didn’t care about any of that!” Your voice breaks, tears burn at your eyes.

He scoffs, now defensive. “And look where we are – at your wedding.”

“No. Just because Chris did what you were never willing to do-”

“What, paint a target on your back?”

“Open up. Compromise. Literally anything.” And the dam breaks, tears trickling down your cheeks. It hadn’t even been a relationship, not in any proper sense of the word. Late night fumbles, broken promises, a note left on your pillow that he couldn’t give you what you wanted, despite never having the discussion.

“I couldn’t.”

“You didn’t even want to try!”

The door opens and Claire strides in, dressed in a vibrant red gown, tucking her cell in her black purse as you hurriedly try to wipe your face.

“Crisis averted and nearly time to head downsta… Leon - what are you doing in here?”

“Chris asked me to drop off a gift.” His tone is blunt.

“Y-yeah,” you sniff, hooking a finger around the chain to lift up the pendant. “It’s perfect, right?”

“Oh, he got it!” Claire squeals, taking a step forward to get a closer look. “He was so worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“No, I love it.” A rogue tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh, sweetie, your make-up.” Claire fusses, heading towards the box of tissues on the dressing table. “Sit down.”

“Sorry.” You mumble, sitting down heavily on the stool. “I haven’t ruined it, have I?”

“Not at all.” She smiles, beginning to dab at the tear trails on your face. “Leon, shouldn’t you be heading back to Chris?”

“On my way.” He mocks a salute, before dipping both his hands back in his trouser pockets.

“Leon,” you call and he swings back round embarrassingly fast on his heels at your voice. “Can you thank Chris for me? Tell him I love it. And him.”

He nods and leaves.

--

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the minister begins as you stand opposite Chris at the end of the aisle, your eyes flickering from the loving gaze of your groom to meet the best man’s icy blue eyes for a moment, your heart skipping a beat, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Leon clenches his fists.

-- Thank you for all your wonderful support, @porcelainseashore ❤️❤️

Masterlist . 1,000 followers event Comments and reblogs make my whole day!

[variksel]

matthew arnold has mastered the game of tumblr ship teasing and He Knows It

[steviesbicrisis]

Zombie AU where Steve gets to an unhealthy level of "it's my responsibility to protect everyone" because when the Pandemic started, Barb Holland was one of the first infected and he had to kill her as she was trying to bite Nancy.

Even if it was the right thing to do, the relationship between him and Nancy has never been the same and he promised himself he would never get to that point again.

For the following years he trains, takes the most dangerous missions, always makes sure to be in the first line to protect his friends and somehow he manages to survive despite always putting others first.

It all changes when he meets Eddie. Who doesn't expect him to jump right in front of the danger to save him, who gets mad every time he does so, who tries the best he can to share the burden with him.

And Steve, for the first time in years, dares to be hopeful about the future, to daydream a farm where he and Eddie could live together, to let go of the things he can't control.

Steve dares to fall in love.

And right when he finally believes he deserves good things too, Eddie gets bitten.

It was supposed to be a simple mission to look for supplies in the abandoned trailer park, Eddie offered to go since he knew the place better than anyone else, and they were so sure it would've been a simple one they let Dustin go with him.

It only took an infected who was stuck in one of the trailers to get him. Dustin is in tears as he tells Steve how Eddie jumped on the infected to protect him.

All the progress Steve made thanks to Eddie, learning to lean on others, to not blame himself for fucked up shit he cannot control, goes away in an instant. Because Steve should've gone instead of Eddie, he should've been there to protect Dustin, he should've been bitten.

Steve takes his decision quickly.

He sends Dustin home with Hopper, he takes one of the guns and promises he will handle the situation.

He goes inside the trailer as they're driving away, Eddie is sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall behind him, a knife in his hand.

When he sees Steve, he is ready to protest and send him away until Steve shows him his gun. Eddie looks stunned, then nods slowly.

Steve sits next to him "I'm sorry".

"It's not your fault" Eddie sounds so convinced Steve wishes he could believe him.

Steve takes Eddie's free hand in his "I'll stay with you until it's time."

"Steve, you don't have to do this-"

Steve squeezes his hand "Please, let me buy us a little more time."

Eddie quietly stares at him, studying his expression, and he knows him so well Steve wonders if he figured out his real plan. If he knows that Steve has no intention to get out of that trailer without him.

Eddie's eyes get watery and he can't tell if it's because he's scared of dying or because he knows Steve won't use his gun.

Finally, Eddie nods "Okay."

Steve nods back "Okay."

Eddie rests his head on his shoulder.

And they wait.

[runningfrom2am]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K!!! I’d love to make a request from Venus. I’d like smth basses off the song, ‘daddy issues’ - the neighbourhood, with rafe x rougtledge! Reader. Smth a lil angst 😊 hopefully this is okay! And congrats on 1K again 🫶

ahh thank you!! this one was so fun but also heartbreaking- i am very conflicted so thank you for submitting this :)

daddy issues (r.c)

pairing: rafe x routledge!reader

wc: 860

requests! (currently closed, but send stuff in if you’re okay with waiting a while!)

masterlists, navigation, 1k celebration!

"what are you thinking about?" you asked rafe, feet swinging over the edge of the dock.

"whatever you're thinking about." he replied, a slight smirk on his face as he leaned back on his palms, his ankle brushing against yours over the water.

you giggled, taking another hit from the joint pinched between your thumb and forefinger. "i doubt that."

"why?"

"you don't know what i'm thinking about, that's why." 

"then tell me, i'll probably forget anyway." rafe nudged your shoulder gently with his own.

"okay," you muse, nodding a little as you passed him the joint. "i'm thinking about my dad."

he nodded as he took it, willing you to continue.

"and my brother. he's not handling it well."

"isn't your uncle still staying with you?" 

you turned on the dock and looked back to your house. "do you see any lights on in there?" you asked rhetorically, gesturing for him to look for himself.

"where did he go?" rafe asked, furrowing his brow.

"he's working out of state, said i could handle things well enough on my own..." you sighed, chewing on your lip as your eyes suddenly welled up with tears you were fighting back. "but i haven't seen john b in days, he won't talk to me when he is home and i just-" you cut yourself off, taking a shaky breath.

"hey, hey- you're alright..." rafe was quick to reassure you, extinguishing the joint before reaching up to wipe a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "have i ever told you you're so pretty when you cry?"

you laughed a little at this, quickly wiping your face as well. "no, but that's creepy." you giggled, moving to lean your head on his shoulder anyway.

"you know, if you were my little girl," rafe said then, resting his head against yours as you looked out over the water. "i wouldn't have left you behind. i would run away and hide with you, or whatever your dad is up to now, i guess, but it would still be us."

"thanks." you sniffled, wiping your face on the bunched-up sleeve of your sweater. "but you're really not doing much to beat the creep allegations."

rafe laughed, squeezing your side. "you know i'm not. better than anyone."

“matching daddy issues.” you sing, laughing as he kissed your temple.

“that’s why we get each other.”

"no, no! don't touch me!" you shouted, shoving your boyfriend away as he tried to grab your arms. "did you know?"

"know? know what? what's going on?" rafe asked, brow furrowed. you look him over, he seems genuinely confused. but that can't be true.

"that ward killed my dad! did you know?" you clarify, and he straightened up, shaking his head.

"no... no, no... my dad didn't kill anyone." he insisted.

you scoffed, shaking your head with eyes red as tears fell down your cheeks. "john b told me everything. he told me- he told me ward tried to kill him out in the middle of nowhere, the same way he killed our dad. over what, some stupid gold that you would only spend on buying what? another vacation home?"

"my dad wouldn't do that, baby, john b must be lashing out, like you said he-"

"no!" you cut him off with a shout. "no. you don't know him like i do. don't act like you do."

rafe stood frozen, staring at you with worry as your chest heaved with anger. "y/n, i don't want to fight with you, lets just go talk to john b and we'll clear this up."

it surprised him when you laughed, full of bitterness as you shook your head. "no! no. you clearly aren't listening. goodbye, rafe. tell ward to lock the doors tonight." you say, storming off. you made it to your car before your anger turned to shaking sobs, and you left quickly to go resume your journey of trying to track down your little brother again after what happened.

rafe didn't cry that night, but that pain was nothing compared to the tears he's shed tonight. he never got the chance to make it right before you took the boat with john b and his sister out into the storm. he's sure you were driving it, and he's sure you made them both put on lifejackets. you wouldn't have let them go alone, and now, he lost both you and his sister in one night. he's lost everything.

"rafe. get it together." ward says, grabbing him by the shoulder. "be a man. we've got stuff to deal with tomorrow." at that, he releases his grip on his son and pats him, pacing up the stairs toward his office.

rafe rubs his red-rimmed eyes, biting his nails as he stares into the darkness surrounding him in the foyer. alone, with his daddy issues and what is left of yours now that you are gone.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn, @whtvrrafe, @r1vrsefx, @sandyworms, @urmooniee, @frxcless, @ari-nicole, @kitscutie, @lovelyxtom, @niicole-87, @dylanstilinskiposts 

join my taglist here!

[mushroomnoodles]

assorted morrigan content that i either didn't like how it came out or didn't know where to put it

[skillzissue]

Hey guys its been over a month lmao 😭

[2d-enthusiast]

damn nobody cares about cartoon lesbians anymore fr

[thingsphoenix21]

Hephaestus: Open the fucking door Ares! What kind of brother are you... What the fuck. *Ares stays in the other side crying* Hephaestus: This isn't about Dite now, this is about you and me and our friendship, and if you wanna throw it away then fine, because I don't wanna be friends with you anymore.

[wolvietxt]

heyy, congrats on 1000!! 🎉

i’d like daryl with the prompt below:

“it’s the middle of a heated argument, voices raised, hands gesturing wildly. suddenly, they stop mid-sentence, chest heaving. “you’re all i ever think about,” they blurt out, the anger draining from their face as if they only just realized it themselves.”

(from the “unexpected confessions” list)

thanks so much!🤍

DARYL was sitting in the corner of the cabin, sharpening his knife, while you paced the floor, words spilling out in a rush of frustration. it started over something stupid. it always did. 

"you can't just keep shutting me out, daryl," you said, throwing your hands up. "every time i try to help, you act like i'm some kind of burden!"  

"ain't about you helpin'," he shot back, his voice rough, eyes glued to the blade in his hands. "it's about you gettin' hurt 'cause you don't think things through."  

"oh, so now i don't think things through? that's rich, coming from the guy who runs off without a word and comes back covered in blood half the time!"  

his eyes snapped up at that, sharp and blue like storm clouds ready to break. "you think i don't know what i'm doin' out there? you think i ain't got it handled?"  

"that's not what i meant!" your voice rose, and before you could stop yourself, you were right in front of him, arms crossed and glare locked on his face. "but you can't handle everything alone, daryl! no one can!"  

"been doin' fine so far," he muttered, standing abruptly and towering over you, his posture tense. "you just don't get it. this ain't about bein' fine. it's about survivin'."  

"surviving isn’t the same as living!"  

he let out a sharp exhale, his hands clenching at his sides. "ain't got the luxury to live, not with how things are. you think this is some kinda fairytale? we got walkers everywhere, people worse than 'em, and all you do is - "  

"what? all i do is what, daryl?" you challenged, stepping closer. "care about you? worry about you? because that's all i’m trying to do!"  

"then stop worryin'! i ain't your problem to fix!" his voice thundered, louder than you'd ever heard it, cutting through the tension like a blade.  

you stared at him, chest heaving, hands gesturing wildly as the words tumbled out. "you’re impossible, you know that? you push me away, but you don't want me to go. you want me close, but you don't let me in. what the hell do you want from me, daryl?"  

he opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he stood there, his breathing ragged, shoulders rising and falling like he’d just run a mile. and then, as if it had struck him like lightning, his expression softened, anger draining from his face.  

“you’re all i ever think about,” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. his gaze locked on yours, raw and unguarded, like he was seeing you for the first time - or maybe realizing something he’d been trying to deny for far too long.  

your breath caught, the silence between you suddenly deafening.  

“what?” you whispered, barely audible, as if saying it louder would break whatever spell had just been cast.  

his hands twitched at his sides, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “i said… i think ‘bout you. all the damn time.” he looked away, his jaw tightening, but not before you caught the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “don’t know how to stop.”  

you blinked, trying to process his words, the heat of the argument still lingering in the air but quickly fading under the weight of his confession. “daryl…”  

he cut you off, shaking his head like he couldn’t bear to hear whatever you were about to say. “just forget it, alright? shouldn’t’ve said nothin’.”  

but you weren’t about to let him retreat now, not after everything he’d just let slip. “no,” you said firmly, taking a step closer. “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to drop something like that and walk away.”  

he scoffed, but there was no real heat behind it. “ain’t walkin’ away. just don’t wanna make this harder than it already is.”  

“harder?” you asked, your voice softening. “what’s so hard about admitting you care about someone?”  

his gaze snapped back to yours, and for a moment, he looked almost angry again, but it wasn’t the same. it was frustration, confusion, and something else - something gentler.  

“’cause if somethin’ happens to you, i wouldn’t… i couldn’t…” he trailed off, his voice breaking, and suddenly, all the walls he’d built around himself came crashing down. “damn it, i don’t know how to do this.”  

your heart clenched at the sight of him, this man who was always so strong, so sure of himself, now looking utterly lost. “you don’t have to know how,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “we can figure it out together.”  

he stared at your hand like it was something foreign, something he didn’t quite know how to handle, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.  

“don’t wanna mess this up,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“you won’t,” you assured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “but you have to let me in, daryl. you can’t keep shutting me out.”  

he nodded, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time since the argument started, you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. “alright,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. “alright.”  

a small smile tugged at your lips, and without thinking, you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?”  

he huffed a quiet laugh, the sound so rare it made your chest ache. “guess not.”  

and then, before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned down and kissed you. it was tentative at first, almost unsure, but when you kissed him back, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer like he never wanted to let go.  

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, but the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks - months, even - was gone, replaced by something warmer, something infinitely more comforting.  

“you’re all i ever think about, too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

he smiled, just a little, and for the first time, you saw the man behind all the walls, the one who cared so deeply he didn’t know how to show it. “guess we’re both screwed then,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.  

you laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “yeah, i guess we are.” 

ᰔ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs, @iheartpeterparker3000

@withasideofmeg, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[artnijna]

Sobs over old people in love meeting in the afterlife or whatever…cries in my pillow over these two