#but i NEED to make a fic for maggie that fits that

[mikodrawnnarratives]

I'll be posting this to ao3 ltr when i have a good title in the works. Pls do lmk if you have any suggestions as i mull it over,

...

fuck i didn't think of a summary either UHHHHH

Summary:

It's a simple enough backstory. It followed the formula you'd expect from most prodigies pre-Supernova. Experience a traumatic event, survive, get your powers, and the rest is history. How all the heroes in this damned city advertise their origins. Like a comic book. A cheesy, edgy, comic book. At least some prodigies have the common sense to keep their melodrama to themselves. Magpie did.

Or: I gave Maggie another internal monologue that MM loves to write her renegades trilogy characters doing, 1) cuz its fun 2) I have a lot of hcs I want to get out and have no idea how Maggie would tell this to other characters in a one shot

I'll write the longer fic ltr ITS TIME FOR MAGGIE MONOLOGUE

word count: roughly 1500

If she was good at anything, it was surviving. Her bullet was proof of that.

Proof of a day she couldn't remember, but still existed. Had to exist.

A day defining her every waking moment, every breath. A day providing the reason for the smallest scar just by her hairline.

It's a simple enough backstory. It followed the formula you'd expect from most prodigies pre-Supernova. Experience a traumatic event, survive, get your powers, and the rest is history. How all the heroes in this damned city advertise their origins. Like a comic book. A cheesy, edgy, comic book. At least some prodigies have the common sense to keep their melodrama to themselves. Magpie did.

Who would she even tell? Who would even care? No one did before. It took her years to realize no one gave a shit about her case. From the Renegades’ messy crime scene analysis to the witnesses of her miraculous survival.

No double-checking for survivors. For her. They just gave up. And certainly no one could be bothered to alert the Renegades of their error when she was found.

She supposed the latter made sense, given it was still the Age of Anarchy at the time. Everyone had enough on their plates at the time. One more orphaned kid wasn't special. And never would be. Those tragedies tend to lose their effect on people’s hearts after enough of them.

Sometimes, depending on the day, her heart ached a little more in her chest to think about her sister. The occasional query, the itch she couldn't scratch, wondering what happened. If she was out there wondering about her too. Wanting her when no one else did.

Maggie never liked to entertain those thoughts for very long. They didn’t change anything. Her sister either ran away or got herself kidnapped, and neither fate spelled good things for her. Even if it was once a nice thought; the idea her sister beat those odds and was coming to get her. Especially during hard nights at the orphanage.

When a roomie couldn’t get their powers under control to let her sleep, or when another kid got in trouble and was yelled at for an hour after dinner. The orphanage would get flooded and someone would be there to hug her and tell her she doesn't need to be there any longer.

The idea that someone (anyone really, she wasn’t picky) was gonna come and break her out. A perfect rescue. Her fabled happily ever after. It didn’t lose its appeal. A pitiful, sweet lie.

A lie regardless.

As appealing as it was, she never went long without another foster family reminding her of the truth. Harder to believe more and more after each family that passed through the creaking doors of the shitty building’s structure. Each potential foster was usually already hesitant to accept a prodigy, but a prodigy thief?

One that could steal your jewelry and family heirlooms and run away to pawn it off who knows where? If you even had any left after the Age of Anarchy. Her odds were never great. Even the rare bleeding hearts that just loved to find “fixer uppers” were dissuaded. Her file only spelled trouble.

Even if trouble was a kid willing to do anything for a family, in Maggie’s humble opinion. Trouble was a kid with a treasure trove of hidden gifts she had collected over the years for the longest time, to give to her future home. A thank you for the service of accepting her. Let me gift you this part of me! Even if said “part of her” was a pearl necklace from the shop across the street.

She liked pearls.

Not that she could ever be dissuaded from stealing. Adding to her collection, she preferred to call it. The scoldings she received did nothing to change her mind, even if they each were another mark on her file. “Stealing is bad” isn't a very compelling reason to change for a preschooler, it turns out. And they were easy to ignore anyway, especially after the third. Only serving to inform how she got caught. How to do better. The occasional addition of a time out for her punishment didn’t help.

Hell, even if they did, there were almost always more important kids to pay attention to than the telekinetic. You wouldn’t want the pyromaniac to burn down the building! Or leave the infant amphibian alone for long enough to poison dinner. For the third time. The ones who couldn’t control their crazy powers yet.

They also didn't tend to be very popular choices with foster families, but Maggie could hardly feel sorry for them. Everyone in the orphanage knew ever since they could walk the Renegades were always looking for more recruits. Keeping a keen eye on the kids with potential, growing up in their own institution. If one could call such a wreck an “institution”.

And becoming one of the renegades, while not ideal, was the best escape you could get. It was for her. Even if she traded chores at the Children’s Home for chores at Renegades HQ. They, of course, loooovved her powers for clean up duty.

It paid. That kept her there. So it wasn't all bad, even if it felt like it most days. They had also attempted to get her a family but Maggie knew from the start it wasn't happening. They let her join regardless. She ran away and pawned off her collection, no point in keeping it any longer, all before her first day.

And she never went back. She never needed to, even after the Renegades found out she wasn't staying with them. She was never prodded about where she lived if not the orphanage, and they didn't need to know. It was a good enough building close by, that's all that mattered.

She remembered squeezing the bullet so tightly after finding the building, checking for any weak points nearby. She can do this. She'll be okay. She's a survivor. Mantras on repeat in her head, the bullet tight in her hand for good luck.

She knew it wouldn't be the same as it was at the children's home. Leaving meant leaving behind a part of herself forever. And she did anyway.

If the day she got her powers wasn't her first death, then the day she ran away was.

She's a survivor, she knows that much. Yet more often than not, parts of herself died over the years. Her original identity died. Whatever her name used to be, she's gone. And Margaret White survived. She survived with such foolish hope that she could ever get any semblance of a normal home. A life she should have gotten.

She would never get it. That was fine. She ran away.

Margaret White became Magpie, one of the youngest Renegades to join at barely 10 years old. She never held back her displeasure with the Renegades, all of them hypocrites. She stole for only herself, until she didn’t. And made the same mistake. Having hope. Hope that things could get better, hope that even if the Renegades were shit at their jobs, the means would justify the ends. Hope that she could do something.

And he believed in her. That annoying, cheesy nerd he… he never should have…

She gave him that helmet.

She really did think it would change anything.

And now he's dead.

And Magpie is too.

Rotting in that stadium falling apart around her, sinking into the ground as the world continued on and rebuilt without her. The coward stuck behind those stands speckled with blood, a messy paint job. Unable to look, unable to move. Died frozen in place, stiff with the endless rounds of tears burning her eyes.

Her worst nightmares brought her to that place. Where she died. Where she murdered him.

Well, she didn't technically. But it felt like it. The pit in her gut didn't change to know she wasn't the one holding the scythe.

The fault laid between her and Nightmare. Nightmare… Nova, who dared to proclaim herself as a hero now. Dared to move on. Her corpse should have laid there with him. With Magpie.

Whatever hope Maggie had left in the Renegades died that day. Any faith in their message, rotten. Not everyone can be a hero, some just aren't built for it. Relying on others, trusting others, gets you killed. She should have known better.

That day, she peeled away from the spot Magpie's breaths stopped, and told herself she would know better now. She'll be better. She doesn't need anyone. She never did. Gripping the bullet tightly in her palm, that's what she told herself as she took shaky steps to the remains of the exit. She would survive, even when everyone else died from their foolishness.

Some people aren't cut out to be heroes, even if they tried.

Some people were meant to prosper at others expense.

Some people lived, even when others died.

They died, they lost, and Maggots like her needed to be okay with that. Their loss meant her benefit. She won’t let the inverse happen.

Some people are villains, and always were always meant to be.

-

-

im so indecisive aaaaAAAAA

i also would uper appreciate it if voters explained why they picked what, it'll help a lot with deciding

[holdmytesseract]

🩷Salut mon amie🩷

I just can't let this perfect opportunity slip... What about a Daryl x f!reader post-outbreak song fic with “So High School“ by Taylor leading your wonderful mind??? 😊

Clandestine Meetings

Daryl Dixon x fem!Greene!Reader

Summary: You sneak out to meet Daryl in the watch tower - the first moment of privacy you share since months.

Warnings: 18+!!! Minors do not interact! veeery suggestive smut/'smut' (not very graphic, but it's there), fluff, we ignore the age, humour?

Set in Season 3!

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: Thank you for requesting, my friend! I don't know if it fits 'So High School', but that's what my mind came up with. Hope you like it! 🤍

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist °☆• Echoes of Hope Masterlist

The sun was about to set when you made your way out of the C-Block. Snuck was probably the more fitting word, though. You snuck your way out of the C-Block. To your luck was everybody else occupied with other things, so you had more or less free rein to get unnoticed to your destination... The watch tower. Once you reached the yard, you adjusted the rifle strapped around your shoulder; a victorious smile spreading on your lips.

You crowed too soon.

"Y/N?" A very familiar voice suddenly cut through the air and caused you to stop dead in your motion. "What are you doing out here? Where are you goin'? It's almost dark..." Maggie... Your sister.

"Damn..." You cursed under your breath; now seeing her approaching you, wearing some of the police gear. A bloody knife was in her hands.

You lifted your head to meet her eyes. "I could ask you the same, y'know," you retorted playfully; hoping that you'd somehow get out of this situation. Maggie frowned for a moment; stepping closer. "Been out with Glenn; fixing the fence and gettin' rid of some walkers." "Ah..." You nodded, "Ya sure do look like it." and giggled; still hoping to get away.

"Where are you goin'? We shouldn't walk 'round here alone. Especially at night. Even though the yard is cleared." "I'm not plannin' to walk around," you immediately said; lifting your hands in surrender. "Don't worry, sis." Your sister crossed her arms over her armoured chest; a stern expression on her face - and you knew immediately that she wasn't up for jokes anymore. She was being serious now. "Spit it out, Y/N - and it better be the truth." You sighed defeated; knowing that you had lost. Well, perhaps you were just really bad at lying and keeping a pokerface. "I wanted to go to the watch tower," you finally admitted; nodding towards the tall building at the foot of the prison. "The watch tower?" Maggie raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Since when are you on watch this late?" "I'm not." You shook your head. "But, uh, Daryl is."

Maggie looked at you surprised. "Daryl?" You nodded; biting your lip. "Uh.Huh. Thought I keep him company for a bit." "Keep him company?" "Mhm."

Your sister gave you a suspicious look, before crossing her arms over her chest. "Is there somethin' I should know about?" "No," you said, but the pink on your cheeks was betraying you. "Y/N..." Maggie pushed; your awkward behaviour rising only more suspicions. "Okay, fine!" You sighed once more. Yeah. you had lost. For real now. Maggie wouldn't let you go without telling her the whole truth. She took her sister role very seriously.

"I, uh, I really like Daryl. Have been since the farm and well, uh, we're kinda together?"

A big smile stretched over Maggie's face. "Honestly? I suspected that you two were a thing." You blinked; shocked and surprised. "W-Wha'? How?" Her smile widened as stepped closer; wrapping an arm around you. "The looks you give each other? Him always making sure you're safe? Especially when we were on the road? I noticed, sis. You two were being not quite subtle..." Your cheeks reddened even more at her words. "Hey, sweetie. No need to be embarrassed 'bout it. I'm happy for you, truly. Daryl is a good man - but if he hurts you, I'll still cut off his balls." You couldn't help but giggle; your nervosity finally melting away. "He won't, Maggie. He's a keeper." "I know. I'm just sayin'..." Your sister said and started to walk away. Halfway, though, she turned back to face you; a smug grin on her lips. "Hey, sis?" "Yeah?" "If you need some, Glenn and I can spare a few condoms," she hollered over; winking and causing you to blush once again. "Maggie!" "What?" She laughed. "Wrap it 'fore you tap it." You rolled your eyes and reached inside your pocket; fishing for something. Once you found the little foil package, you lifted it up for Maggie to see. "I know! I'm prepared!"

Your sister's smirk even widened, "See you in the morning then." and winked at you once more. Before she could walk away, you stopped her. "Maggie?" Again she faced you. "Don't tell daddy yet, okay?" Your sister nodded, "I won't. This is up to you." and truly walked away this time.

Your gaze lingered on her for a moment, before you made your way to the watch tower; silently closing the door behind you and walking up the steps to reach the top door. Cautiously, you stepped inside; finding Daryl gazing out of the window.

"Yer late," his deep, gruff voice urged to your ears as he turned with the tiniest smirk twitching on the corner of his lips. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I, uh, ran into my sister on the way." He shook his head, "'No need ta apologise, darlin'. Hell, 'm happy ya even came." and put his crossbow carefully down; leaning it against the wall beside you rifle.

You raised a playful eyebrow at him. "Why on earth shouldn't I? This is the first time we have some real privacy since the farm." Daryl shrugged his shoulders; chewing on his bottom lip. "Dunno. Coulda lost interest in me or somethin'." "Lose interest in you?" You asked almost in disbelief, "Daryl..." and stepped closer to the archer. You casually leaned against his broad body; hands playing with the buttons of his ruby coloured shirt. "I will never lose interest in you. I love you way too much for that - and the things you make me feel."

A small, smug smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "The things I make ya feel, huh? Tha' good?" You scoffed and playfully slapped his chest. "You know damn well it is."

The archer held your intense gaze for another moment, before he cupped your cheeks and without further ado connected your lips with his; dragging you into a fierce, passionate kiss. A kiss which was enough to light up the fire between you.

With his lips still hungrily moving against yours, Daryl's big hands went to grab your waist and swiftly turn you around in order to urge you forward. When the back of your thighs collided with the edge of a little desk, you knew what Daryl had in mind. Before you were even able to finish your thought, one of Daryl's strong arms engulfed your waist and effortlessly lifted you onto the desk. A soft squeak escaped your lips at his sudden movement, but it quickly faded into a moan as the archer started to latch on your neck; his arm still firmly wrapped around you.

"D..." You gasped and tried to somehow signal him that you were in desperate need of more; arms clinging to his broad upper body. But the man was so lost in you and your sweet scent, that he didn't notice. So, you had to take the steering wheel.

Wrapping your legs around his thighs, you urged him closer; hips colliding with yours. A deep, guttural grunt left Daryl's lips. He pulled back to look at you; pupils blown wide - swallowed by love and desire. Now he got the hint.

Wetting his lips, he made quick work to open your tech-wear pants. "Get rid of 'em, will ya?" He grunted with a nod; now undoing his own rugged jeans. You giggled at his sudden impatience; shedding your pants and underwear, before hopping back onto the desk.

Daryl stepped between your open legs; calloused fingers dancing over your bare thighs, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

In a swift motion, he hooked his palms underneath the back of your knees and pulled you forwards; lips crashing against yours once again. Before your hazy brain was able to catch up, were Daryl's hips moving against yours. All you could do was moan into his kiss and hold onto the archer for dear life.

"D-Daryl..." You breathed; fingers clawing into his angel-winged vest. You could feel him shaking his head against your shoulder. "I-I know, s-sunshine," he grunted; biceps bulging at how tightly he grasped the edge of the wooden desk. You moaned; burying one hand in his hair, which had grown quite a lot in the past months.

Moments later, you fell into the sweet abyss of pleasure together.

The archer was panting hard against your neck; palms now resting on your thighs. "I love ya, too." You giggled and turned your head to press a lingering kiss against his scruff cheek.

Tags: @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @celtic-crossbow @erebus-et-eigengrau @sweetz1919 @fuseburner @in-this-minute @stitchintimefan @suniloli @mandywholock1980 @mischief-dream @km-ffluv @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @marvelcasey05

[naturesapphic]

Idk if u saw the interview of the hot chicken wings with billies but Can u write a fic with Billie and un doing this interview!! And like billie letting yn win bc she loves seeing yn happy! (I don’t know if u should do it with little yn or « big » yn so u decide!!!!)

Hot Ones: Versus

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: cussing, fluff, Billie being a little simp for her girl

Word count: 1,967

“You spin it baby. You’ve been wanting to.” Billie said with a teasing smile on her face. I leaned over to spin the hot sauce bottle and it lands on Billie. “You go first bils!” You said excitedly as Billie smiles at your cuteness. “Yep it’s my turn. Go ahead and hit me with it mamas.” Billie said confidently. “As a songwriter there’s a constant need to document your innermost thoughts and feelings. Read your last notes app entry out loud.” I ask and Billie smiles as she pulls her phone out of her baggy pants. “Ruh roh.” She sings out in a funny voice you love so much.

Billie starts to go through her phone and lets out her loud laugh that always makes you giggle. “Y’all it’s a quote from my dad.” Billie says and keeps laughing. “I was talking to my friend nat the other day and nat said you literally have the most beautiful eyes I’ve seen except for maybe your dad.” Billie explains and you agree with her. “Your mom has really beautiful eyes too.” You said and Billie agrees with you. “100%. Most beautiful eyes ever for two parents. Anyway I was telling my dad this and he goes your mom said I have bird eyes.” She said while sticking her pointed finger up making you laugh. “Then he said and that I look like a baby Dinosaur.” Billie giggles out and you kept laughing, almost losing your breath.

You looked over to see Maggie laughing and agreeing with Billie. Billie looked over and saw her mom agreeing and Billie points to her “she’s like yep. She’s like yeah.” Billie says as she looks back over to you. “Okay my turn!” Your girlfriend says excitedly as she picks up one of the cards and starts reading. “Can you guess one of the pet peeve’s Billie has of you.” She said out loud and you looked at her shocked. “I didn’t know you had pet peeves over me!” You said gasping dramatically as Billie looks around nervously. “Uhhh not really but there’s this one this you do that I absolutely hate and it’s because finneas does this too.” She explains and you immediately knew what she was talking about. “Me and finneas will put our feet up on stuff a lot.” You said and Billie nods as she giggles.

“A lot of the time finneas is barefoot while you usually have your socks on. Sometimes y’all will wear your gross shoes and have y’all’s feet up still.” Billie explained and went ahead and moved some of the food away so she could prop her feet up to show everyone how y’all do it. “And my face is like right there.” She laughs out and puts her feet down. It was now round two and it was your turn now to ask her another question. “In addition to being a Grammy award winning singer, you’re also a style icon. Rate these classic billie eilish fits on a scale of 1 to 10.” You read out and Billie groans as you gather the pictures together. “Jeez…” she mutters to herself.

“We’re gonna give that like a three.” She said about the camo outfit. “I had the idea, the idea was there. I had grey sweatpants on, I had a camouflage vest. It really doesn’t look good on though.” Billie explained and you gave her a pout. “I thought it looked amazing on you bils!” You said and Billie felt her cheeks heat up at your compliment. “This is cute!” You say as you pull up the next picture that was of Billie wearing a sailor moon outfit. “That was cute. I give it like a 7/8. All things anime is like the coolest shit ever. I feel like anytime I have a shirt that has any sort of anime character on it, it’s the coolest shirt I own.” Billie explains and you nod your head in agreement. You put up the next picture and the both of you ooh at it.

“This was a person whose shit did not stink.” Billie said while you gave her a confused look. “Well she thought her shit did not stink.” She corrected as you smiled at her. “I remember walking around this specific event being just like I am absolutely the sickest person in the world.” She said as she told the story of the photo. This time billie went over and picked up the next one which was her “assassin’s creed” outfit she wore. “Oh look it’s the assassin’s creed look!” You said while giggling. “It’s kind of hard. I feel like that’s an eight. This is so embarrassing.” She said as she looks around the room.

“Now it’s my turn to ask you. What’s the worst celebrity you’ve ever met?” Billie asked and you sat there quietly for a while, trying to think of an answer because you didn’t want to eat the hot wing. “I’m trying not to punch down.” You said not really thinking and Billie laughed. “Try not to punch down did you say?” She said confused. “Yeah I could punch way down.” You said giggling and the two of you laughed. You whined a bit as you couldn’t come up with an answer so you take a bite of your chicken wing. “Whew…that’s hot…but it’s really yummy. It’s probably because I’m hungry as fuck.” You said while wincing slightly. “Same.” Billie agreed as you picked up a card to ask her a question. “Couple test. I’m going to write down my answer and you have to guess my response. Guess wrong and eat a death wing.” You said dramatically.

“What is my favorite song of yours baby?” You ask and she makes a thinking face as she starts to write down her answer but then stops and then goes back to writing again. “Do you have it?” You asked and she nodded as she picks up her board and shows you her answer. “Nope that’s not it baby. But that one is one of my favs but it’s y/f/b/s (your favorite Billie song).” You replied and Billie lets out an ohhhhh. “That’s a great answer babygirl.” She says and you feel your cheeks become redder and it wasn’t because of the chicken. “I wanna eat a wing” Billie said in her baby voice she does and you coo at her. “Well you did get the answer wrong sooooo…take a biteee babyyy.” You said smiling as she gets excited to eat it.

She takes a decent bite and makes a mmm noise. “This is fire.” She says and you laugh loudly as she enjoys it. One of the people behind the camera asked if the spice was kicking in yet for her. “I think so. It’s getting a little hard to think.” Billie states and does a little smile and burps which makes you chuckle at her behavior. “You’ve never been shy about giving credit to your early musical influences. Now that your heroes have become your peers. Rank these artists from most to least talented.” You ask and gave her a shocked expression to which she matched that expression with you.

“Ooh….who?” She asked you and you grimaced at what you were about to say. “Tyler the creator, Lana del ray, childish Gambino, and Justin Bieber.” You said and Billie groaned. “Oh my God….most to least talented?” She asked and you nodded. “I don’t know if I can do it.” She said and laughed nervously. “Well baby eat a death wing im afraid.” You said and she grabbed her vegan wing. “It’s the lips that are the problem. The mouth and tongue is fine.” She said as she goes in and takes a bite on the top. You decided to eat one since you were starving and you regretted it. “Fuck! That’s so fucking hot…” you breathed out as you felt like you were gonna pass out. “You okay mamas? You can have milk or water if you want. It’s what it’s there for.” She said softly as she looks at you with worry.

“Yeah no I’m fine baby it’s okay. Let’s keep going.” You reassured her and she nodded. She picks up a card and it read a wild card and as soon as she said it a airhorn was blasted which made the two of you jump. Billie looked terrified and you started cackling at her face. “What the fuck dude!” You exclaimed and Billie shook her head in disbelief jokingly as she tries to read the card but was having trouble getting the words out. “It’s tradition around here to put a little extra on the last wing. You and your opponent can add an extra dab to your final wings now.” Billie read aloud and you groaned. Billie tied her hair back and took off her jacket while you took yours off and put your hair up as well. “What’s the question or challenge we have to do?” You ask as you just wanted to get this over with.

“Don’t smile at me. Challenge your partner to a compliment battle. First person to smile must eat a death wing.” She read and the both of you dreaded what was to come. “Baby this is so sad…” she said breathlessly. “Ummm…you have the most beautiful eyes mama…” she said and you kept your face neutral. “You are the most talented person I know.” You say to her and you saw her lips twitch up for a second but it never turned into a smile. “You are an incredible driver even though you drive fast as fuck.” You said and she holds in her giggles. “You are hot as fuck.” She said and you put your hand over your lips so you wouldn’t smile. “You always look good in the most bizarre clothing.” You said but you let out a laugh as did Billie.

“Well we both laughed so here we go but are you okay though princess?” Billie asked you as the two of you picked up a wing. “It can’t get any worse.” You replied and Billie shook her head laughing. “Oh but it totally can mama.” She warned and you took a deep breath. “I love ya.” Billie said and you said it back. The two of you ate pretty big bites and the two of your were dying by the end. It was clear that Billie had won since she didn’t drink anything but in her eyes you had won. She grabs the trophy and hands it to you while you looked at her in disbelief. “You deserve it mamas and plus I love you a whole bunch.” She said and you coo at her.

She leans over and tries to take a bite out of the fake wing and makes a disgusted face. “Oh my gosh…you didn’t even make that a little bit edible” she said as she pushes the trophy closer to you. “Baby what the fuck.” You laugh out and stand up as Billie stands up with you. You end the video with the two of you saying goodbye and that was that. Even though Billie could have gotten the trophy, there’s not one thing she wouldn’t give/do for her girl.

A/n: this took me so long to do so please like, comment, reblog everything lol thank you to the anon who requested this. I hope they enjoyed it and I hope the rest of y’all did too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all!

[dixons-sunshine]

Love your work it’s amazing and helps me with so much shit in my life🎀 been feeling so down insecure lately .could you write something about female reader being really insecure about her appearance and her mind and intelligence ,looking at herself in mirror and Daryl catching her do it. just pure fluff him feeling bad because he wants her to see herself the way he does

That's What Makes You Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While getting ready for the party at Deanna Monroe's house with the other women, old insecurities crept up again after being dormant for a while. However, Daryl won't have his beautiful girl thinking bad things about herself.

Genre: Kinda angsty to fluff.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, insecurities.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: This was heavily self-indulgent. I struggle with body image issues, so this was easy and yet extremely hard to picture and write. But darling, even though I don't know you personally, please know that I think you're amazing and beautiful! I hope this fic portrays how much I love you, even if I don't know you personally. Daryl in this is me reassuring you that you are enough, and that you are worthy. 💜

(Also, Michonne is your hype woman in this because she is my queen and I need her to hype me up when I feel down.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Laughter filled the small room that you had found yourself in with Michonne, Rosita, Sasha, Tara, Maggie and Carol. All the women were having a mini fashion show as they tried on different dresses and shoes, having the time of their lives as they did something that everyone missed from the world before the dead started walking. However, the same couldn't be said for you.

You smiled weakly at Rosita as she showed off the dress she was wearing, eyeing the way the dress fit her curves perfectly. In fact, all the women looked amazingly beautiful in their dresses. Even Carol, who wasn't wearing a dress and instead opted for a flower shirt and a pair of jeans, looked gorgeous. You couldn't deny that they all looked like princesses, and that made you feel bad about yourself—your old insecurities crept up into your mind again.

The dress that Michonne had picked out for you was splayed across your lap. You had no intention of putting it on anytime soon, preferring to want to do so without any of these stunning women in the room. You wanted to be sure of how you looked before allowing anyone to see you in the dress, and when you more than likely looked terrible in it, you wanted to be able to handle your emotions without everyone present. You didn't need to see their disgusted faces when you wore it.

“Hey, you gonna get dressed and join us downstairs or just sit there and look pretty?” Michonne asked playfully, snapping you from your thoughts.

You winced at her words, but plastered on a small smile. “You guys go on ahead. There's something I need to do before getting changed,” you lied.

Michonne frowned slightly, seeing right through your lie but choosing not to address it in front of everyone. She'd pull you aside later and ask what was wrong. For now, however, she understood that you wanted everyone to leave, and she nodded at you.

“Okay, we'll see you when you come downstairs,” she replied, ushering the other women out of the room. She turned back to you before she left, giving you a questioning look. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” you told her, not missing the way she sent you a disapproving look. You sighed and looked down, toying with the dress in your lap. “I'm fine. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?”

Michonne reluctantly nodded. “Okay,” she agreed, pulling the door closed behind her and leaving you alone in the room.

Sighing, you hesitantly got up and started undressing, refusing to meet your reflection in the mirror in front of you. You slowly slipped the dress on, the fabric covering your skin from your chest to your mid thighs. You adjusted the straps over your shoulders, not even trying to zip up the dress from behind. You reluctantly turned towards the mirror and physically recoiled at the sight in front of you.

You continued staring at your reflection in disgust, hating the way you looked. You started getting lost in your own self deprecating thoughts, so much so that you didn't hear the door open behind you, or the footsteps that abruptly stopped in their tracks.

“Wow.”

You flinched and spun around, locking eyes with your partner. Daryl stood by the bed, staring at you with wide eyes. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes trailing over your body.

Mistaking his wide eyes for disgust rather than awe, you crossed your arms over your chest. You tried to shield your body from his view, but Daryl walked over to you and held your arms in his hands, sending you a questioning look.

“Nah, why are ya doin' tha'?” he inquired, rubbing your arms with his hands. “Ya dun' need to hide yerself from me, 'specially not when yer lookin' so pretty all dolled up.”

Without meaning to, you let out a choked sob, tears starting to fall from your eyes. Instinctively, Daryl pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly to his chest. He didn't know why you were crying, but he didn't care. He would comfort you through it, just like you had comforted him through so many things, ranging from his inability to track down Sophia all the way to the guilt he felt over Beth's death.

“I look ridiculous,” you choked out, your cries muffled into his chest. “Everyone looks so beautiful in their dresses and I look like this. I can't—”

“Shh, s'okay,” Daryl whispered into you ear, rocking you from side to side. “S'okay. I got ya.”

He simply held you in his arms, allowing you to cry all your negative emotions into his shirt. When you finally managed to calm down, you pulled back and tearfully looked up at him.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled. “It's so stupid.”

“Nah, it ain't stupid,” Daryl disagreed, taking your face into his hands. “But where's this all comin' from? Why do ya think tha' 'bout yerself?”

“I can't—I don't—”

“Please, peach,” he pleaded, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head, casting your eyes down towards the floor. “I don't know. I just... I grew up being bullied for my looks, about my intelligence, for just about everything. When everything went to shit, I guess those insecurities got buried, but now, wearing this dress, I—”

Daryl cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, but quickly pulled away again. He looked deeply into your eyes, keeping your face in place to ensure that you kept your eyes locked on him.

“Do ya trust me?” he asked.

You nodded your head. “Of course I do.”

“Then listen real close, sunshine,” he began softly yet sternly. “M'not sure wha' fuckin' assholes talked this shit into yer head, but yer not wha' ya think ya are. Yer so unbelievably smart, and ya've proved it a lot of times. S'cause of ya tha' we were able to save Hershel way back when. S'cause of ya tha' we found tha' store with all those supplies while we were on the run fer eight months. Yer such a badass, and yer so unbelievably beautiful. I wish ya could see yerself the way I see ya. Yeah, ya have yer flaws, but they're part of wha' makes ya beautiful. Nobody's perfect, but yer the nearest damn thing there is to it.”

You were flabbergasted. You felt like crying all over again, but from pure happiness this time. “You really think so?”

“I dun' think, I know,” Daryl confirmed. “I love ya so much, bunny.”

“I love you too,” you replied with a small smile on your face. You turned around and faced the mirror again, giving him a full view of the back of your unzipped dress. “Zip me up?”

“'Course,” Daryl nodded, gripping the zipper and slowly zipping up the dress.

You shivered slightly at the feeling of his fingers slowly brushing along your spine. When your dress was zipped up, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He looked at your reflection with a small smile, staring in awe at how beautiful he found you.

“Damn, woman,” he muttered with a small chuckle. “Yer gon' be the death of me, lookin' all pretty in this damn dress. Pair it with heels and we ain't makin' it outta this room tonigh'.”

You giggled and shyly ducked your head. “That's too bad. I promised Michonne that I'd go to this damn party.”

Daryl groaned and buried his head into your shoulder. “Fuck,” he mumbled, successfully coaxing another laugh from you. “Now I gotta wait? S'fuckin' ridiculous.”

Before you could respond, Rosita and Michonne walked into the room, making you and Daryl withdraw from each other's hold. Michonne and Rosita looked at you, smiles on each of their faces.

Michonne let out a playful wolf whistle. “Look at you! You're putting us all to shame.”

“She's right,” Rosita agreed. “You're looking real stunning. Daryl will have to fight of the other men. They're all going to want your attention.”

“Hell, some ladies, too. Daryl might have to fight me off,” Michonne joked.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Nah, I ain't lettin' anyone take her from me. 'Specially not ya, Michonne.”

Michonne laughed lightly. “Can't blame a girl for trying.”

As Michonne and Daryl bickered back and forth, with Rosita adding her own playful input, you couldn't help but feel happy. In a matter of minutes, your partner and two of your closest friends had managed to cheer you up. You doubted that your insecurities would ever fully go away, but with people you love there to remind you of your worth, you would be more than okay.

And, just to tease Daryl a bit that night, you did end up wearing the heels with the dress, and Daryl made sure you knew just how beautiful you were to him that night—by worshipping your body like the goddess you were.

[wehangout]

So, the amazing Calli @callivich came up with this beautiful idea for DVD commentary, fic style, and the amazing questions that go with it. As suggested, I'll be indulging myself while talking about:

Thicker Than Forget. Summary: He blinks at you. “What was your first name?” “Erato.” “Erato,” he repeats. “No need to roll the r.” “Like the muse?” You grin. “Poet, meet muse."

AU. Ian is a poet. Mickey is his recently-corporal muse. They eat an absurd amount of stupidly named ice cream, try to find beauty in things, and fall hopelessly in love.

This was fun! Let me know if you want commentary on any other fics!

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

So, I wrote this for the Shameless Big Bang in 2021. I couldn’t tell you how long it took me to write (Word is giving me conflicting info), but it was probably my easiest write to date. Word count sits at 30-ish thousand words.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

It was initially inspired by a novel. I don’t remember which one, but it was either Lament or Ballad by Maggie Stiefvater. The only similarity between that one and mine is that a character falls in love with their muse. The plot itself is very different.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

Mickey. Because it’s almost always Mickey lmao. I did try from Ian’s, but this had to be from the muse’s POV and Mickey had to be the muse.

What was your favourite scene to write?

The smut 👀 if you’ve read it, I hope you understand why lmao

How did you come up with the title?

From the poem, Love is Thicker Than Forget! It fits so well with Ian being a poet and the overall theme of the story.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

I went a little meta on fanfic, fandom, and shipping in this, which was so fun. I think only one person seemed to really notice and mention it, though, haha.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

I didn’t struggle to write it, but figuring out how to end it was tough. It took a long time for me to figure that out. When I originally came up with the idea it was for an original story, and did not have a happy ending.

Favourite line in the story?

I’m gonna go with lines, plural, because I have a couple

He kisses you and he kisses you and oh. Oh. This is what they were writing about. All the poets, every word of creativity they took from you … it’s this.

He closes his eyes and continues to sigh sonnets into your skin

Also, the last two lines of dialogue, and, I mean, “Fuck the connection” has to be right up there.

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

The writing, actually. I’m not a poetic person, none of the poems in the fic are mine, but I’m pretty proud of the poetic nature of the writing.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

So, this is the fic that made me realise I needed to stop taking things so seriously lmao. @captainjowl can attest to the research I tend to do. In this case, every ice cream name was a legit flavour at the time, taken from a Baskin-Robbins website. The mural exists. The flowers and trees in the botanic gardens are flowers and trees found in that exact botanic garden. The hoodie! Taken straight from the Brooklyn Zoo website. The pasta they eat at the North Pond – I used Google Maps to make sure there was an Italian restaurant nearby and looked up ponds in Lincoln Park.

I've since tried to be more chill. Sometimes I fail.

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

I’d make it longer, if possible.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

It��s a nice idea, because I’d love to write something pretty again, but I have zero inspiration for it.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc?

Uh, if you’ve read this and Suncatcher you might notice that I, like Ian and Sandy, have a thing for The Doors.

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

I don’t know if this is my most popular story, but I was definitely surprised by the intensity of the comments I received. It was one time when I knew I’d written something good, but the way it made other people feel definitely took me by surprise.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

I love that this was loved. I still go back and read it every now and then and just sigh.

[lesbianboyfriend]

can i ask for lesbian book recommendations 🥹🕺

yeassss ofc my love <3

erm and obligatory disclaimer for any who might read that i don’t think “queer” or “lesbian” is a necessarily coherent category of books or adequate descriptor for a novel which is why i’ve also provided the actual genres here (sorted into which ever one i felt best fit) and descriptions. and these books have much more going on than just being about lesbians. however all books are undeniably awesomer with lesbians so yayyyyy

FANTASY:

-the salt grows heavy by cassandra khaw: fantasy horror; murderous mermaid and plague doctor come across a cult of children (could be read as not lesbians bc one character is nonbinary but i choose to read as. lesbians)

-the empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo: political fantasy; monk unravels the tale of exiled empress’ rise to power

-when the the tigers came down the mountain by nghi vo: political fantasy; monk unwinds the tale of a tiger and her scholar lover to prevent other tigers from eating them (stand alone sequel to empress of salt and fortune)

-ship of smoke and steel by django wexler: ya fantasy; girl has to steal a ghost ship to save her sister’s life

-the mermaid, the witch, and the sea by maggie tokuda-hall: ya fantasy; pirate falls in love with one of the ship’s hostages, a girl being sent to an arranged marriage against her will

-tremontaine created by ellen kushner: political fantasy; there’s a lot going on in this one okay just trust me that it’s really good esp if you love political intrigue (this was released serially and is easiest to acquire an electronic version)

-the deep by rivers solomon: fantasy/spec fic; African slave women thrown overboard gave birth to mermaid-esque descendants. one holds these traumatic memories for her whole people and must grapple with that pressure

-wild beauty by anna-marie mclemore: ya magical realism/fantasy; a family of women who can create flowers and whose lovers always tragically vanish fight to keep their land and to unravel the mystery of a strange boy who appeared

-siren queen by nghi vo: historical magical realism/fantasy; girl’s rise to stardom amidst the monsters of hollywood back in the days of the studio system

-gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir: sff; um. how to explain briefly. gideon wants nothing more than to leave the ninth house, but her nemesis harrowhark needs her sword skills to pass the emperors trial and become immortal. sure. (caleb i know you’ve read this just adding for any other viewers yayyy)

HORROR:

-white is for witching by helen oyeyemi: horror fantasy/magical realism; a house with women in its walls calls to miranda silver while the people she leaves behind struggle to make sense of what happened to her

-plain bad heroines by emily a. danforth: historical horror; when filming a movie about the macabre history of a boarding school, its past starts to become the reality for the stars and author of the novel it’s based on

LITFIC:

-girl woman other: contemporary litfic; the intersecting stories of Black british women told in verse

-nightwood: classic literary; i feel like i can’t describe this one well but nora and jenny are obsessed with robin, whose penchant for wandering and inability to commit drives them crazy. toxic dyke drama at its best

-the thirty names of night: lit fic; transmasc syrian american unravels the history of artist laila z who encountered the same rare bird his mother saw right before her death and realizes their pasts are intertwined

-under the udala trees: historical lit fic; coming of age set against the backdrop of civil war in Nigeria, two girls from different ethnic communities fall in love

-everyone in this room will someday be dead: contemporary lit fic; that moment when your ocd lands you a job at the catholic church even though you’re an atheist and also your relationship is falling apart

-stone butch blues: historical lit fic; butch lesbian realizing and grappling with her identity throughout the 40s-70s

-the color purple: classic lit fic; story of two sisters separated in their youth—one is forced into an abusive marriage and falls in love with her husbands mistress, wondering what became of her sister

-oranges are not the only fruit: semi-autobiography with slight fantasy elements; exploring growing up lesbian in a deeply religious pentecostal sect

SCI-FI:

-the weight of the stars: ya sf romance; aspiring astronaut is forced into friendship with a girl who waits on the roof every night for radio signals from her mother in space

-the seep: sci-fi/spec fic; what if aliens invaded and formed a hive mind of everyone and also your girlfriend turned into a baby again. wouldn’t that be fucked up

-the stars are legion: political science fiction; an awakes with no memory amid a group of people calling themself her family who claim she is the only one who can save their world

-not your sidekick: ya sci-fi; superheroes are real and they fucking suck

SHORT STORIES:

-sarahland: contemporary/spec fic short story collection; various stories about people named sarah

[trashboatprince]

For the writing meme aziraphale crowley with "I've got your back, ok?" please?

Sounds good! :D

On with the fic!

--

"Crowley!" Aziraphale shouted in distress when the addressed demon waltzed into the shop. "Oh, Crowley, I need your help!"

Crowley blinked slowly behind his shades, stopping in his task of heading for the back room. "Uh, what's the matter? Did someone touch one of your first editions with sticky fingers?"

"No, no! It's not that, it's just..." Aziraphale looked antsy, pacing in a small circle. Crowley waited patiently, knowing that it was best to let the angel gather his thoughts before speaking again.

Aziraphale stopped, let out a small breath, then turned to face him, frowning deeply. "I made a mistake."

"A mistake."

"Yes, you see, I tend to schedule things for myself, events for the month, what days some of my favorite restaurants want me to stop by for taste testing, when Maggie wants to have tea with me while we listen to her record collection, all that!"

Crowley nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "Right, well, I noticed my schedule for today at half past two is the auction. You know the one, I was telling you about it."

"The one with those books and manuscripts from the Eastern Mediterranean, yes?"

Aziraphale's pleased smile made Crowley's insides feel like melted butter on fresh bread. "Oh, you were listening! Anyway, yes, well, I had already planned to go to the auction to obtain some of the items, or at least try my hand at getting them. I've got my eyes on a certain manuscript..."

"But?"

"But I had made a huge mistake! At the exact same time, I'm meant to be dealing with new clientele on this street, and I'm the landlord of the building! I had mistaken the date, I had thought it was next month, but no, it's today, and I can't change it on that young couple. They're looking forward to opening up their bakery of... well..." A blush came over his face for a second. "It certainly fits the spirit of SoHo and its history with adult... enjoyments."

Crowley grinned. "An erotic bakery? Cute. So, what's the problem?"

"I can't cancel on them, the meeting is to be done today so they can get started with renovations for the shop as soon as possible. And the auction is only today, once the sells are done, they're done!"

The demon crossed his arms, tilting his head. "Sooooo... it's either do your job, or go and blow your money on rare goods?"

"You make it sound like a bad thing..."

"No, no, I'm just thinkin' aloud." Crowley rolled his head. "Alright, I'll help. You wanna do the auction and I do the landlord thing?"

Aziraphale's smile could rival the sun's brightness. "Y-you'd do it? Really?"

"'s no problem, angel, I've had to do the landlord thing for you a few times in the past, remember? I think I helped with setting up the lease for that one shop, that music guy, the one that likes Doctor Who. Remember? You had to do that mission in Canada."

"Ah, yes, I remember! Oh, thank you, so much!"

"Eh, don't thank me. I've got your back, okay? Like I always do, just take me to that nice wine bar later tonight in return, yeah?"

"Of course, of course." Aziraphale said, still smiling, before grabbing Crowley's hands, giving them a squeeze. "You are simply the best, Crowley, how can I ever repay you?"

Crowley made a noise with his throat that sounded like a vacuum that sucked up something it shouldn't have. He turned his head away, not wanting to look at that beautiful face. "W-wine bar! That's enough of a thanksssss! Now, go get yourself dolled up, you've got some ancient nerd stuff to purchase."

--

I dunno why I picked erotic bakery, but it's SoHo, and canonically Aziraphale's shop is right next to an adult shop. Oh, and Mrs. Sandwich works there and we all know what sort of business she runs. :)

[coveredinsun]

i wrote 3 different winnix fics in december & january but i realized i NEVER posted them here. so behold, my series of winnix fics where i get further and further detached from canon, and where i also make lew a girldad for fun

1. darling, it’s grand, they just don’t understand

“Act upon what he finds within himself, and only himself,” said Dick, audibly pensive in a way he hadn’t been. “I quite like that.”

“Well, that’s the gist,” said Lew with a shrug. He wasn’t even in the top half of eloquent men. “Honestly, I really hated reading and analyzing Emerson’s essays. He found a way to talk and talk and talk about nothing at all, when he could’ve kept it perfectly concise.”

Like you, Lew almost said. The bullet got jammed. Still, he had a hunch that Dick could read his mind this one time.

Or: July, 1948. Blanche Nixon invites her brother, and his business partner slash lover, to… a baseball game?

6.5k words, fluffiest of the three; my weird band of brothers/a league of their own (2022) crossover fic??? whatever. blanche invites winnix to a baseball game to see her baseball player girlfriend-ish, all the way mae. stupid emily dickinson references because i’m lame and basic, sue me. gay jazz clubs :)

2. november 27th

“Kathy hates it when I call her Maggie, but I think it’s cute that she’s got a little nickname to grow out of.”

“Or maybe she’ll find someone who calls her Maggie,” replied Dick, totally without thinking. “And he’ll say it’s ‘cause it’s easier, sure. But more than anything he’ll like the way it sounds when he says it.”

When Nix looked at him, then, his eyes glittered. His lips were pursed like he needed to say something or he’d shrivel up and die.

There were many things Dick could conceptualize him saying. Luckily, they fell into two neat categories—the things Dick expected Nix to say, and the things Dick wanted him to.

Or: 1942, 1944, and 1946. A study on Lewis Nixon’s history with love, destructive vices, and fatherhood—as seen from the eyes of a wife and a lover.

8.2k words, perhaps the most densely packed with angst of the three. examines lew and his relationships with love and fatherhood, both alongside kathy and alongside dick. ann winters introduction <3 and classic new jersey angst

3. the likes of me abide

“Well, I feel compelled to be a little more brave now,” replied Dick, holding up his gaze like Atlas held the heavens. “I ought to give you an answer that’s more honest.”

But not fully. It was sort of bitingly ironic, the way Lew always put up Dick as the more honest of them. He didn’t find that to be true. Not when there still existed so many selfish desires in his mind, like the one that practically clawed and scratched like an animal just to fit somewhere into this part of Lew’s life. He might never put that desperation into words.

Or: Summertime, 1951. Lew gets back in touch with Kathy.

10.3k words, angsty but less intensely as last time. i go reallyyyyy ham with kathy’s character in this, so take that as a treat. i also actually make lew and kathy’s daughter into a character <3

[spicymiilk]

I’m obsessed with your na’vi!Spider au so much I can’t stop thinking bout it for weeks like I’m so ✨obsessed ✨

You have any hc for your na’vi!Spider?? TSTiMA is a Great story by the way! Na’vi!spider is my air rn literally lol💅💅✨

You bet your ASS I do. Glad you’re enjoying anon!!

Little TidBits about restless child I may or may not be able to fit into the actual fic

- when Spider finally meets Norm he absolute LOVES him. It’s hard to get past the human part and then even HARDER to get past the avatar/link bed part, but Norm in all of his adoptive father grace is exactly what Spider needs to feel good. They spend a lot of time together trying to deconstruct what makes Spider a wee bit different from other avatar/na’vi children, and in that time Spider gets very comfortable and appreciative of everything norm teaches him, but Norm instinctively starts taking Spider underneath his wing

- Spider is not NOT hunter material, but he prefers learning and helping Mo’at with Tsahik things (Lo’ak does not get jealous about this absolutely not) he also begins learning the fundamentals of earth/human science and biology. Eventually, he and Norm become the go-to’s when a human gets sick. When more hybrid children are born, Spider is the one who’s typically overseeing their development

- this is something @be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie helped make up, but years down the line, Spider and Lo’ak visit the clan that Itxo was from to try to thank them for their help and support them in any way, since they’ve got a lot of materials and knowledge about all things human. Queue the most devastating self-worth relapse when Spider learns that Itxo died two days after he left Quaritch. Lo’ak is there to help and I have a lovely little one shot planned where everyone helps keep Spider out of a hole

- Spider is a chronic napper. Like, an atrocious one. Lo’ak will leave him in a marui (he ends up sharing one with one of Norm’s older kids) for three seconds and come back to Spider conked tf out. Bro learns to sleep standing up.

- for absolutely no related reason, Lo’ak becomes significantly better rested. They’re totally not taking naps together or anything

- Lo’ak surprises him with a date ONCE, and Spider takes it as such a personal challenge that at least once a month, he has Kiri help him plan the most elaborate, sickeningly sweet date. Neytiri once helps him weave like a courting accessory and Lo’ak practically faints

- Neytiri and spider become real close. Like, he goes to her for everything. It takes a while and she still sometimes gets wrapped up in PTSD but she’s his closest confidant and the day he feels comfortable to give her a hug they both cry

- he n jake have joke bits. They pretend that Neteyam doesn’t exist for hours at a time. Sometimes it’s Kiri. On one particularly long take they pretend Tuk is like eighty years old instead of eight

[rimunagenius]

Existing

pairing: Daryl x genneutral!reader

summary: Y/N realizes hiding their feelings is becoming far too much so their only solution is to distance themselves from Daryl. When Daryl confront Y/N, secrets are revealed and new bonds are created.

era: season 7 (Negan and saviors don’t exist, Glenn never died — that was purely to fuel my delusional brain that Glenn is happily living his life with Enid, Maggie, and Hershel (:)

words: i have no clue (sorry y’all….no im not.)

A/N: Whoo! This is officially my second Daryl x reader fic, and please please PLEASE if i slipped another pronoun like he or she, please comment or message me to correct me so i can fix it. Or if gender nuetral pronouns are wrong all together, correct me please i want to make sure it’s correct so no one feels singled out or misgendered on my page!! thank you sexies!! It’s a force of habit, i write a lot of fem!reader stuff on wattpad and stuff so thanks! Hope you enjoy, this might be shit bc it’s unedited or bc i just actually suck at writing 🥳

warnings: slight angst?? fluff

REQUESTS OR WTV THEYRE CALLED ON HERE, ARE OPEN!!

NOT MY GIF!!!

————

It was known to everyone that you liked Daryl and that he liked you. There was definitely no hiding it. It was common knowledge to anyone in the community.

Everyone saw the way you looked at him with the utmost admiration. He was strong — mentally and physically — he always treated you with respect, nothing less. He was there whenever you needed him and he understood you and never judged you. He was perfect. How could you not look at him like he was the human embodiment of perfection.

Daryl was never one to reveal too much about himself. He never found it in himself to tell anyone his past, never wanted to say too much before they looked at him like he was someone else and not the Daryl they already knew. He wanted to be seen, not judged and listened to without being left out of fear or inferiority. He just wanted to finally fit in and not be seen as the ‘redneck trash asshole’ everyone already thought he was. He was never seen as anything less but a human with feelings who deserved a chance when it came to you. He always felt unconditionally loved — protected. He always felt seen with you, and he never felt like you were judging him like almost everyone else did. He was grateful that the end of the world gave him someone like you.

“Hey sunshine!” You tried your best to mimick his southern drawl as you patted his back, falling in rythym with Daryl’s steps alongside him.

He looked down at you, smirk prying at the corner of his lush lips, scoffing his usual scoff when it came to you. Always playful, never malicious. Even though he had many scrapes and bruises, which you have yet to notice on the man, he took his time getting to the infirmary if it meant he spent just a little time with you.

“Hey.” His face dropped any trace of amusement when he saw your face fall into a look of worry.

“Oh my god, Daryl! Your bleeding!” You immediately stood infront of him, halting his tracks as you examined his body for any more injuries. “C’mon, let’s go.” Grabbing his hand, you dragged him to Denise, grabbing the supplies to do it yourself while she tended to other victims of the difficult run. You were a nurse before the fall so you spent most of your time in Alexandria helping Denise. You actually had the supplies to aid everyone, instead of scrounging for makeshift supplies when you were on the road.

Grabbing gauze and disinfecting liquid, you cleaned his blood crusted scrapes, and managed to convince him to let you clean up his face. “Why are ya like this, Y/N?” He flinched as you reached to clean the cut above his brow. You scoffed at the man. You were flabbergasted as to why he was questioning your motives.

“Uh, because I care Daryl. I’m never not gonna care.” You looked at him as it was obvious. Because to you, and apparently everyone else but him, it was. You truly loved that man. You truly cared for him and wanted nothing but the absolute best for him. He looked at you like you were crazy for caring this much about a guy like him. “But why? I could’a done this myself. I don’ need yer’ help.” He didn’t wipe the look off his face. He was genuinely confused.

“You have protected all of us. Ever since Atlanta, the farm…You never stopped caring and protecting us. No one really batted an eye to you for it. But it’s about damn time someone starts taking care of you, and I plan on doing just that til’ the day I die, Dixon.” You gave him a warm smile as you placed a small kiss on his forehead as you continued to tend to his wounds.

He recalled that memory everytime he thought of you and your beautifully kind heart. He remembered the warm fuzzy feeling he had gotten when he looked into your eyes that night. He felt like he was lost and your beaming light, your smile, you…brought him where he always belonged. Home.

You both felt at home with eachother. Regardless if both of you were aware of the others feelings or not. Regardless if you both met someone, neither you or him, would dare spend your borrowed time apart. You needed him like he needed you. Even if it had been purely platonic, neither of you would care. You two were eachothers anchors, keeping the other grounded. You saved eachother. You weren’t letting eachother go until the both of you were dead.

Although the idea of the relationship being platonic and you willing to be okay with that under the right circumstances, you hated the idea of it now. You knew Daryl wasn’t seeing anybody, or atleast you had a good idea. He would’ve told you, or Carol, which would’ve inevitably circled back to you. ‘I am going to die on this ship. A captain never abandons her ship’ Carol always teased you about your little crush on Daryl. She was infact very shameless of the teasing. It only increased when she learned that the feelings were mutual.

But the constant feeling of butterflies, the blush pink rising in your cheeks significantly everytime he spoke to you or said your name the way he always did, the sudden loss for words whenever you tried to speak your mind was something you couldn’t take anymore. Telling Daryl was detrimental to your state of mind from here on out. He needed to know.

That was the problem though, you had been avoiding him for days after you decided to distance yourself from the archer because being around him, feeling the way you felt, was something that was unsettling to you. You knew he knew that you were avoiding him. He would walk in your direction and you’d quickly turn around in the other. It was getting easier to avoid him because you had memorized the days he told you he’d be gone on runs and doing handiwork around the community.

This however, wasn’t one of the easier times. You were wrapping your conversation up with Maggie and Glenn when you turned heel, on your way to your home. You didn’t make it far before you bumped into a broad chest that belonged to none other than him.

“Hey, what’s up with ya’? Why is my favorite girl avoidin’ me. Did I do somethin’. If I did, I’m so sorry sunshine.” Daryl was quick to apologize. For what? He couldn’t tell you. All he knew was that he wanted the cold shoulder you gave him to dissapear and be replaced with the warm love you both mutually shared. He couldn’t do that if you weren’t talking to him.

“Nothing. Excuse me.” You tried your best not to look him in the eyes and let loose all the feelings you wanted to scream into his face to make him understand that you truly, deeply loved him. You trudged up your pearly white steps into the beautiful home you, Rosita, and Tara shared.

You were only able to unlock the door and take one step into the home before you were met with his hand connecting to your forearm, stopping your movements completely. “Hey, you can talk ta’ me. Ya’ know I would never do nothin’ to hurt you, right? Look, Y/N. I’m sor-“

“Can you stop apologizing! You did nothing wrong, Daryl. Hell, you never do wrong,” Your voice faltered at the end, your head falling as you collected your breath and gained the courage to just come clean. You looked into your favorite blue eyes, your eyes already starting to fill with frustrated tears; some betraying you, already cascading down your face. “Daryl. I cannot keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that we’re just friends because I don’t think we should be.”

“Wait—you don’ wanna be friends no more?” Daryl felt his heart break in two. He hoped he misread the situation and it was just your horrible delivery. He prayed the only person he loved with everything in him, wasn’t leaving him. He refused to be left. Not again.

“Not when everytime I look at you all I think about is what it’d be like to hold you in my arms every chance i get. To know what it’s like to kiss you because that’s all I think about. Being the first person you see when you wake up in the morning and the last person you talk to at night. I can’t be your friend when all I want is for us to be more than that, Daryl.” Your frustrated tears were showing no mercy as you tried so hard not to cry infront of him. You didn’t want to make him feel bad into giving into what you wanted. The last thing you wanted was make him do something he didn’t want to. That’d hurt you more.

“Y/N-“ Daryl was ready to commit. He was ready, for you. He wanted this just as much as you did. He didn’t get to deliver his confession before you cut him off, wanting to get it all over and done with.

“No, Daryl. I can’t. I can’t think without you. It’s like my whole body relies on you. My whole damn life is you, I literally can’t breathe because i’m waiting for you. Hoping and waiting til’ the day you come to me and tell me you want me forver. You own me, Daryl. You control me. I belong to you.” There was no running now. You had just said everything you could ever say the best you could. You just hoped it was enough. Maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way too. Your chest heiving in big waves as you tried to catch your breath. You didn’t realize telling him how you felt took all the breath out of your lungs. Your words so powerful they left you breathless.

You were embarassed. You told him how you felt and as you spoke his expression, the look on his face, honestly terrified you. You weren’t gonna take it back beacuse you meant every word. You’d wait. No matter how long it took.

He wasted no more than a second to step foward, your chests almost touching. He wanted you to hear him. He wanted you to see him. When he talked, you always listened; he rarely talked because you usually did all the talking but he never minded it. He could listen to you all day long. Now, it was his turn and he’d be damned if he wasted probably the only chance he would ever get to tell you how much he loved you.

“You own me! You control me, I belong to you. I love you, Im in love with you, yer’ the love of my life. My every feelin’ is controlled by the look on yer’ face. I can’t breathe without ya’. I can’t sleep without ya’. I wait for ya’, I watch for ya’. Goddamit — I fuckin’ exist for you, Y/N.”

Both of you didn’t know what to say. You had both stood there screaming your feelings in the others face and now…neither of you had anything to say. You stood there, searching eachothers eyes, face, and body as you waited for the other to speak.

“So…that’s it?” You broke the silence as you looked up at the man. He didn’t know what to do other than look into your eyes. He slipped his hand into yours, slowly entangling your fingers as your lips curled up due to the gesture.

“I guess it is. What d’ya say we go wash up and you can be the last person I talk to before I go to sleep at night?” He swiped a piece of your hair behind your ear, and gave you a genuine smile. This was new. Well, not new but he rarely did this, even when you guys were together hanging out. You hid your face in your hands, the embarrassment blush creeping into your cheeks.

“Shut up.” You mumbled. “Nah. Ya’ asked for this.” He replied as he pulled your hands away from your face. You put up a fight, not ready to face the man with your cheeks being extra blushed. “C’mon. Where’s my pretty girl?” You felt weak in the knees as you looked up at him and pressed a soft, warm kiss to his lips.

“Theres my sunshine.” His smile now faltering to a smirk. He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs into your room.

You both didn’t expect the outcome of tonight. The whole admitting your feelings, yelling in eachothers face to get them to understand that you loved them so fiercely you were willing to scream it at them, to hell with whoever eavesdropped. You both didn’t care who heard you that night. All that mattered was that you and Daryl now had eachother. Forever. That’s all that mattered.

“Do you think they saw us?” Tara looked down to the relaxed girl splayed on her lap.

“No I don’t think so. But I didn’t think Dixon had the balls to admit that to Y/N. Go him.” She laughed breathlessly as she took another swig of her wine.

“Ok because that would’ve been super awkward. Atleast we all don’t have to vomit in our mouths anymore after seeing how freaking clueless they were of eachothers feelings.” Tara looked up the stairs hearing the door close, and shower starting to run as she settled and finished her glass along with her friend.

“Dibs on telling Carol first!” Rosita shot up from her spot on Tara’s lap as she bolted out the back door, opening the gate to Carol and Ricks yard, bursting through the doors ready to tell the woman the news. Tara yelling incoherent curses as she didn’t make it in time behind Rosita to beat her to it. Their door slamming, echoing through the house and into the bathroom you and Daryl currently occupied.

“What was that?” Daryl asked as he looked down at you, your eyes closed as you washed the soap from your hair as he admired you doing it.

“I don’t know I think Rosita or Tara just got home. They’ll probably go straight to bed so we’re good until tomorrow.” Switching with Daryl, you scrubbed the soap in his hair out as the water washed the suds of his built frame.

You both continued your shower, totally unaware of the teasing you’d both receive for ‘finally making it official, Rick’s words not yours.

I guess you both would have to wait til the morning after you’ve woken up from the most blissful sleep you’d have in months before your friends had free reign. All that mattered was that you and yours were finally happy, with no more secrets. Just simply existing for the other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[arcielee]

💜POSITIVE WORDS GAME💜

Tag five moots that you admire, love, and adore - and type out why you love ‘em so much, too! Let's say a nice word or two about those in the fandom and genuinely spread some good vibes!

Tag five people when you're done💜Let's spread some good vibes!

💜 Thank you my darling Tumblr kindred spirits who tagged me: 

@fan-goddess You gave me the sweetest comment on my first ever fic I posted and even asked that I tag you in my future pieces. My heart was so full, I was blushing like a slut. That kindness has always remained consistent with our every interaction and I just adore you.

@lovelykhaleesiii I feel like I have always followed you, like you and Dais were determined to draw me into the Aegon cult, and every time you came up on my Tumblr dashboard, I would like,��“Damn, she is nifty. Fuck it, I am going to bother her,” and I am so glad I did. You are one of the kindest individuals I have met on this hellsite, you are talented, wickedly witty, and I just adore you so thoroughly. 

@ilikeitbetterangsty I adore you. You allowed me to just bombard your DMs with my narrative of your brilliant story 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝘀 and I never left. I just adore you more and more with every bit of yourself that you share with me. 

I came to Tumblr years ago when Matt Smith was the doctor, returning when he took the role of Daemon Targaryen, him singing my siren call. I watched that show and had this feral adoration for everything in it, and thought, “Where can I go that this feral adoration would be welcomed?”  

This hellsite has allowed me the fortune to come across so many wonderful, talented individuals. This sat in my drafts because I did not want to forget anyone, like I know I did 😭  

💜  @itbmojojoejo I was so late to the TLK fandom and only bothered because of HotD. You fed my Finan fixation with your brilliant piece, and I just love watching your talent branch into other facets.        Because of you, I was able to meet @gemini-mama @bhxrdy, whose threads always have me in a fit of fucking giggles. If any of you post this banner (created by the darling mojo), I will be there 🦝 This is our equivalent for the beacons being lit, and you can just call me Gondor.  

💜  @hamatoanne Your stories were some of the first I came across and I just fell in love with your prose. You have been so lovely to talk to and I just adore what a muse you have been for me. I have Tumblr notifications for your work so I can stop whatever I am doing and read whatever you post! You are just amazing. 

💜  @squirmhoney You had such a profound impact on the way I wrote my Aegon. I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to give me feed back on my lucid dream story with him. You have always been so kind, so thoughtful with your advice given and I just adore you. 

💜  @watercolorskyy You asked to be a part of my taglist, making me feel like what I was writing and posting was actually nifty. Thank you for that confidence. Your comments, your reblogs brighten my damn day and you always served as a muse. You are just so lovely. 

💜  @dustylavatentacles You were one of my first anons and you expanded the modern!Aegon husband drabbles in a way that is engaging, sweet, and so perfectly Aegon. 

💜  @assortedseaglass You are one of those people who are beautiful through and through. You have such a kindness, a consideration that seeps onto my dashboard and makes my day, as well as this raunchy humor that has me cackling like a loon. Thank you for always being such an encouragement when I need it the most. 

💜  @inthedayswhenlandswerefew Each week is just a new countdown to Sunday for me. Thank you for introducing me to your brilliant writing, your engaging conversations, and the new Tumblr kindred spirits I have met because of our Sunday trauma bond.  

💜  @namelesslosers [See above] We are trauma bonded and I love having someone I can talk to every time Maggie posts a new chapter. I feel our comments complete each other’s sandwiches. 

💜  @babygirlyofthevale You are a wonderful writer, a wonderful human being. You will always persevere 

💜 @lonnson​ I adore you, I adore your creations, I adore your insight to so many fandoms we share and the ones you are slowly introducing me too. 

💜 @babyblue711 This is for you, with love.

💜  @lovelykhaleesiii & @f4ll-for-you & @amiraisgoingthruit & @st-eve-barnes​ You lovelies have been slowly, but surely converting me to be an Aegon girlie. Hel, I truly enjoy every interaction we share. You always make my day, no matter the time. Dais, you literally gave me the confidence to be where I am today and I can never repay that. Mira, you have a beauty that shows inside and out, a talent that has no ends, and just an overall kindness that makes my day. Eve, you feed such a niche for me and I just adore you for that. Thank you for being your wonderful selves and my tag “reblogging for my aegon girlies” definitely is catering to you all. 

💜  @annikin-im-panicin You were my og follower, my og Tumblr kindred spirit. I literally was struggling to get into the swing of things and you just reached out and were so lovely. I always try to pay your kindness forward.

💜  @theoneeyedprince My darling, I was shy to reach out and you were just so kind in response. Sometimes you meet a soul and it feels like you have always known them, and I feel that with you. Thank you so being so lovely.

💜 @theromanticegoist Your conversations, your advice offered, your writing and your presence on this hellsite has been such a godsend. I just adore you are a person and everything you create. 

💜 @bucknastysbabe & @aemondsgirlfriend Ladies, you have been such a breath of fresh air, I cannot thank you enough for your presence, your kindness, and your unhinged comments. 

💜 @barbieaemond & @aegonx & @myfandomprompts Your creations are both absolutely wonderful and unhinge. You keep the sister wives fed.

💜 @sylas-the-grim I think I spammed every chapter posted on ao3 and you were kind enough to respond to my every thought I typed out. Since then, you have become one of my dearest friends and I just am so grateful to have you in my life.

💜 My other Tumblr kindred spirits: @lauraneedstochill @theold-ultraviolence @chattylurker @aemondx @aemvnd @girlwith-thepearlearring​ @devthlyangels​ @ice-dragon​ and so many more!  

💜 I apologize for how long this is and how long it has sat in my drafts. In truth, I did not want to post it and miss someone. It isn’t that I do not hold you near and dear, but I consider myself lucky enough to have met so many wonderful people on this hellsite. I overuse the tag “i love my tumblr kindred spirits” but that is what I was fortunate enough to come across after diving into one fandom and coming out with so much more. 

Thank you all. Truly. 

[aphroditesmoon]

♤- ALL THINGS END

CROWLEY X AZIRAPHALE

SUMMARY; a series of unsent letters from a demon, to an angel.

warnings: angst, set after events of S2.

A/N: this is my first aziracrow fic, also i haven't gotten an ao3 acc yet so tumblr it is

♡ "IF SOMEONE ASKED ME AT THE END, I'D TELL THEM, 'PUT ME BACK IN IT' " ♡

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○.-

DAY 1

Dear Diary,

Dear Aziraphale,

It’s been a whole 24 hours without you. I see that Muriel Has been trusted with the bookshop. If you want my opinion, that’s just jolly fucking better. After all, it’ll need an owner who actually cares for it more than you had. ‘Nothing lasts forever?

Well I’ll prove you wrong today, tomorrow and forever. When you’ve realized how wrong you were, and how right I was, I assure you that you’ll come back to a bookshop that’s exactly the same as you left it. I’ll make sure of it, alongside Muriel of course. And we will revel with the deepest joy in ourselves, watching you do the apology dance. You and I can both agree on the fact that your punishment fits the crime. I will not wait for you. Because I know you’ll be back soon enough when you realize that I was, again, right.

DAY 7

Dear Aziraphale,

How’s life as supreme archangel? I bet you’re already on your last straw with lot of them by now. If you’re waiting for me to save you again, you can stop. You have made your bed when you thought you could change Heaven it’s natural course.

You’re probably remembering now, how not even I, not even Gabriel, could change that place. What makes you think you can? With what power? You and your tiny miracles, your insufferable terrible magic tricks that never work, you and your sweet tooth craving a forbidden crepe and some coffee. Some rules like that just can’t be changed, eh? Let alone the big ones, like going against God’s great ineffable plan. The books and I look forward to your groveling.

DAY 30

Dear Aziraphale,

Do you remember Maggie and Nina? You must surely. I’m sure your new job have not been giving you such a power rush that you’d forget those two inevitable lovers. Speaking of inevitable, I thought I’d let you know that they’ve started going out together. Not a surprise, I know. Just some sheltering together from rain, and Vavoom! Works every time. Except with us it probably didn’t. No, the rainstorm had been too strong, hasn’t it? Strong enough to have taken you away from me. Well, when you finally wake up and realize you have free will, you’ll know where to find me. Take your time though, I reckoned the books prefer me over you anyways.

DAY 90

Angel,

I thought I’d inform you that your three month trial has officially ended. The punishment has been upgraded to 2 apology dances. That’s right, you’ll have to do it twice. I also thought I’d let you know how much I hate you. I hate how stupid you are. How incredibly naïve can one be to be sold to a lie, already printed in history. I found your ridiculous magician hat yesterday, yes I ransacked your room. I smashed your special painting by Van Gogh, the ones with the yellow flowers. It can’t have been that important if you could just easily leave it behind.

I also burned your bedsheets. It’s ugly, just something you’d like. Why did you ever need a bed anyways, you read there more than you sleep. And yet I could still smell you all over it. Speaking of smell, I also smashed all of your perfumes together. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea, too much whiskey maybe. Because now I can smell you even stronger. Every second I would stop in my tracks, mistaking the scent for you coming back to me. It’s stupid, just like you.

DAY 320

Angel,

I see that Muriel has been promoted. Good for her, best one of the lot, I see a lot of you in her. Or rather, the old you. Maggie and Nina are moving away. Apparently they’ve been saving money to move away, get a nice condo, open up music store with a café installed inside, a genius idea if you ask me. Good for them. I found your diary. Don’t know how I missed it when I first moved in. You write your feelings conspicuously, you write the same way you talk. Sometimes it feels like you were telling me a story as I read it. I read them with your voice at first, But as I reach the rest 500 pages left, I’ve realized that I had grown to forget how you sound.

The people from the streets must think I’m insane, by the way I’m going around places, mocking your voice as I speak, so I’d never lose it.

DAY 600

My angel,

I lied when I said in my much earlier letter, that I hated you. I could never hate you. Not when you’ve done nothing wrong. You are good, and you were chosen to do more good. I might never understand any of it, or agree with Heaven’s choices and definitions of good. But that’s because I’m a demon, surely. I could never understand you, or love you as you should be loved, no matter how much I wanted to. You have always been, the light by the end of my door, that I can’t seem to reach no matter how hard I’m running. I should not be allowed to say this, but I love you. Despite the fact that I’m barely worthy to. I know, I could try with all my might to know you, know your voice, your smell, to recognize the sound of your footsteps and to feel you even before you make yourself known. I am still not worthy. And yet, all the rules be damned, I love you. I love your silly magic tricks. I didn’t burn your hat. I could never, after all, how would I tell you of it if you ever came back.

DAY 700

My angel,

Funny how life works doesn’t it, I’ll give your boss that. We’ve known each other for more than 6000 years, and here I am, less than two years, out of my mind without my best friend. You’re no longer obliged to come back to me. I free you from my obsession. I will always be yours. I’ve been living as just that, now I’ll die the same way.

I was so sure when I fell, that it can’t get any worse than that. But as you fall further from me, I realized I’ve jinxed myself then. Because this, this is worse than anything. But perhaps it’s all part of God’s ineffable plan. Perhaps loving you is my punishment for asking her questions. To love but not to have. That is my vow to you. That I’ll love you anyway. Despite what I’ve said. Despite what you’ve said.

Despite everything.

DAY 3000

Aziraphale,

If you do one day decide to stop by here one day, You’ll find your bookshop no longer existing. And you’ll find me no longer existing either. If I could pray for one thing, as a fallen angel, owned no debt from God. I’d ask to see you one last time, even as glimpse of scattered  dreams, I’ll take it. One last time before I destroy myself for good

[sortofanobsession]

Bright lights and futures (Ted Lasso Fic) RoyJamie Time travel AU Surprise Sequel!

A/N I know I teased this last Saturday have a few other fics that have sequel ideas Early Morning Visitor/Maggie fic & Jamie's Birthday. 😉 A bunch of other promised fics I have been working on too. Let me know which you want to see most of you can.

Reminder! Minors Do No Interact (not super 18+ just the recent YouTube drama has reminded me that it needs to be stated.)

Ch 1 (AO3)

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Pairing: Roy x Jamie (romantic), Keeley x Jamie/Roy (platonic), Colin x Jamie/Roy (platonic), Ted x Jamie/Roy (platonic), Beard Jamie/Roy (platonic), Team x Jamie/Roy (platonic)

Word count: 5k+ (turned into a monster of a sequel 😂)

Content Warnings: canon injury, abuse, past child abuse, past violence, anger, fear, cursing/cussing/swearing

Chapter 2: Never NOT in mind

Roy can tell something is off when Jamie is unusually quiet and subdued as they board the bus. He starts to worry when Jamie sits in the window seat. And Roy sits beside him on the way to Liverpool.

"Talk to me," Roy says quietly once the bus is well on the way. He leans ever so slightly into Jamie's space as he does. "You don't have to right now, but-"

"My dad texted me," Jamie says. He will probably regret it because they are trapped on a bus for the next like 6 hours and this will anger Roy. He just knows it. But he also doesn't like the idea of Roy knowing something is wrong and just letting Roy worry the whole time. Jamie doesn't want that. Roy has been a fucking rock for him since they saw the future. A future that he knows is gone now. But were they supposed to change it? Because the bauble hadn't glowed since. Was it some sort of destiny that he was to find that bauble and change things? Sometimes Jamie's head hurts just thinking about it all. Was it all a change for the better? His thoughts are interrupted by Roy's hand on his knee.

"Hey," Roy says. "What did he say?"

Right, his dad. They were talking about his dad. Jamie nods and gets out his phone. He opens the message and hands his phone to Roy. Roy has to remind himself that James Tartt is not there. That James Tartt can't get to Jamie if they don't let him.

He hands the phone back to Jamie.

"Be right back," Roy gets up. He catches Beard's attention before he reaches him.

"Hey, Coach," Roy says as he crouches beside him, ignoring the discomfort in his knee. He'd endure much worse for Jamie if needed. This was nothing. "Anyway we can make sure Jamie's dad can't get anywhere near the hotel? Because the stadium already knows. Welton and Pep got that out to the right people."

"You got a specific reason or is it just a bad feeling being closer to Manchester?"

"About every threat a person can fit into a handful of texts dated this morning says it is going to be a shit show if we don't do something. And-"

"If you see him, you'll probably catch a charge for manslaughter," Beard states.

"Manslaughter?"

"Oh yeah, sure we could get charges lowered, if not dropped because it's a clear pattern of behavior and he is dumb enough to put actual threats in text. But you'd miss the game, Jamie too most likely. So I'll see what we can do."

"Thanks, Coach," Roy says going back to his seat. Jamie looks at him, confused.

"Beard's going to see about getting your father barred from the hotel."

"Oh, okay," Jamie says.

"If he shows up, you leave him to me, yeah?"

"And let him hurt you, no. He's-"

"I don't care if he hits me. He'll get one hit, then I will end him."

"And then you get arrested," Jamie states. "No, it's not worth it. He isn't worth it. I'm-"

Roy growls. A few of the other players look over at them. Colin is a few rows away and gets up to approach them, but Roy gestures for him to stay put. And Colin obeys.

"The voice in here," Roy taps Jamie's temple. "That says you aren't worth it, it's just your old man's shit. And it's wrong. Ask anyone here. They'd be right there with me because you're one of us. Your father is a right prick and knows he's nothing without you. You are the only thing he has ever done right, and he still fucked that up. You are who you are because of your mum and your own hard work. He has nothing. He is nothing. You are Jamie fucking Tartt. And you are one of the best strikers in the league and only getting better now that you're on the right team. He is an old drunk tosser that your mum was right to give the boot. She and you deserved better. Still do. So I will fucking tell you every day that you are fucking worth it and he deserves to be locked up."

"You always manage to say the sweetest thing in the most terrifying way possible. Kinda hot."

"Almost makes you regret promising these idiots we'd behave."

"Fuck it," Jamie grins and pulls Roy in for a kiss. Earning a wolf whistle from someone.

"Alright, you two, save it for the hotel," Ted hollers. "Keep it professional, or we'll separate you."

"Ooooooooo," most of the team teases like children. Jamie laughs and Roy grunts, but they settle in for the long ride. Roy knows Jamie hates sitting for that long so he does his best to keep his mind busy. Halfway through the trip, Jamie looks up at Roy. They had swapped seats, and Roy's bad knee was over Jamie's lap. Jamie's fingers working at the sore joint. It was something that had helped Roy be able to manage the longer trips with less pain, and it gave Jamie something to do with his hands. "Do you think we were supposed to change our futures? And that's why we went through what we did?" Jamie asks, and Roy sighs. He doesn't blame Jamie for not being able to stop thinking about it. They had discussed what happened more than a few times, but it was something Jamie could never seem to stop thinking about. Sometimes they told others. Colin and Keeley had doubted them at first but the fact that their attitudes and behaviors changed so drastically in a literal flash did lend credence to the idea. Jamie had told Keeley about everything. He told Dani, too, but Dani hadn't doubted the story at all. Roy had told Colin and Issac because he just needed to tell someone who wasn't a 6-year-old child that asks a million questions. Colin was easily becoming one of the people he trusted most. And with Colin, comes Isaac. Neither had called him crazy. Roy found it amusing that Jamie's old lackeys were now Roy's closest mates, other than Jamie, on the team. Jamie still had Jeff. Jeff was a good friend. Even Roy could see that. But Jamie had drifted towards Dani Rojas. Which made sense. Rojas was like the sun. Bright, warm, and people sort of gravitated to him. Jamie needed more happiness. So Roy was glad the happy-go-lucky guy was there. Even if his overly cheery mood often clashed with Roy's. What Roy was most proud to see Jamie change was his relationship with Sam. Jamie had been attempting to make amends with Sam. And it seemed to be working. Sam may not have understood what changed that day in the locker room, but he agreed that it had changed both Jamie and Roy. Both for the better. Sam had told Roy that if Roy said Jamie had changed, then Sam would believe it. Sam trusted Roy. Sam was a bit surprised when Roy told him he was proud of him and grateful for the trust he had in him. Even Ted had found that amazing. But no one was happier that Sam had accepted it all than Jamie. Jamie was happy to have the chance to have the friendship like he'd seen the future versions of them to have. Even if it would be different because they were changing things already. Jamie spent most of the time he didn't spend with Roy or Keeley with Dani and Sam. And Roy knew things were going well for the morale of the team. Between Jamie and Dani, the positive energy in the team was a boost. Having Jamie as a uniting force, as opposed to a dividing one, was literally a game changer.

Beard pulled through and the hotel assures them that all security had been alerted and that James Tartt should not be a problem. Their comfort had been the hotel's priority. And Jamie hadn't realized how much a weight was actually lifted off his shoulders by having Roy and the coaches know the truth.

The moment he door closed to their shared room Jamie kissed Roy like his life depended on it.

"Fuck," Roy chuckled when they broke for air. The look of awe in Jamie's eyes did funny things to Roy. "Been fucking fighting that one have you?"

Jamie smiles. "You don't know how much it means to not have to worry about-" Roy cuts him off because he doesn't want to talk about Jamie's fucking father. He just spent over 6 hours with his boyfriend half in his lap and vice versa. He glances at the clock. They had a bit of time before they needed to meet with the team. And Ted had told them to save it for the hotel. They may have been the last to join the team for movie night, but they kept it relatively appropriate and pda free. That was always going to be a difficult task since Jamie loved to push buttons and boundaries. Jamie was always a cheeky prick. It only got worse when his heart got involved. They were the last again before heading to the match the next day but they still made it on time.

The match went well and even the team could appreciate how Jamie had brought the lighter side out of Roy. Though the pair did disappear from the celebration before anyone else, but no one really blames them. Most of the team just tried not to think too much about it. They were just happy their teammates were happy.

The team was doing better, but relegation was still on the table. They still had a lot of work to do.

"It wasn't over until it was over," Ted told them. "Which means we still had time to show the world what you all are made of."

The game was tied, and all they had to do was keep it that way. Jamie was going to do everything he could to get them the advantage. He was halfway across the pitch, keeping track of the ball and looking for possible advantages. He didn't have time to step in as Roy went on the defensive more aggressive than usual. Roy was taking the chance of relegation seriously. They all were, but even as the captain, Roy was pushing it. And when Jamie realized what Roy was doing the striker's stomach turned. He ran towards him but was blocked by one of City's defenders, and Jamie almost threw a punch. But he didn't get the chance because the play was over and Roy wasn't getting up. He ran towards him only to be stopped by Colin.

"Get the fuck off me!" Jamie tried to shove him off. His eyes have barely left Roy. Jeff had come over to help Colin.

"If you go over there, one of two things will happen: you'll end up in an argument with someone and get carded," and Colin leans closer to limit the risk of anyone hearing him. "Or you'll be so focused on Roy that you risk outing both of you. Let the others handle it."

Jamie wants to put up a fight. Wants to shove Colin and fight anyone else that might stop him. It pains him as he watches the others get Roy up and it's a struggle to watch him limp away.

"Colin, please," Jamie says, and when Colin looks up at Roy, Roy looks back at him and just nods. Colin lets him go, and Jamie meets Roy on the sidelines as he hands the captain band to Isaac, much to Isaac's shock, but it was an easy choice, having seen Isaac as captain in the future.

"Are you-" Jamie starts to ask, but Roy cuts him.

"Don't fucking waste it, got it, Tartt?"

"What? I mean-"

"Finish the fucking match," Roy tells him.

"Roy," Jamie says, but Roy is already being taken to the locker room by the medics.

"You heard the man," Ted says.

Jamie doesn't hold back once back in the game. Get yellow carded and nearly gets into it with the ref over a call but Sam and Dani manage to reign him in. Colin and Isaac handle the rest. Jamie ends up setting up a shot for Dani that ends up beautiful with the ball in the back of the net. And their defenders keep the lead for a win. They get to stay in the league. But Jamie doesn't stay to celebrate longer than needed. He shakes hands with his old team. Some of them were actually happy Jamie was thriving in Richmond. But he was the first off the pitch as he rushed to the locker room. His heart sank when Roy wasn't there. He went over to his cubby and checked his phone. He has a text from Keeley telling him she took Roy home. And that worried Jamie. He hurried to change out of his kit, and didn't even bother showering. He was half-changed when the coaches came in.

"Hey, Coach?" Jamie says, and Ted comes over.

"Rushing off to check on Roy?" Ted asks.

"If that's-"

"Sure, yeah, just let me know how he's doing when you get there."

"Yeah, sure, Coach."

"You did good, Jamie," Ted tells him. "That last goal you set up for Dani was amazing. I may not fully understand what you guys went through with that rock thing, but you played better than I ever expected. Well done, Jamie."

Jamie smiles at him. "Thanks, Coach."

"Tell Roy I'll check in with him tomorrow."

"Yeah, I will."

Jamie finishes getting changed and grabs his stuff. He sends Keeley and Roy a text to let them know he is leaving. He just has to run by his place first.

Roy gets a bad feeling in his gut when almost an hour goes by, and neither he nor Keeley can get a hold of Jamie. Keeley had already checked with the team and confirmed he left. Keeley was just about to call Ted when there was a knock at Roy's door. His bad feeling only grew when Keeley gasped. And despite how fucked Roy's knee was, he goes to see what was happening.

"I swear, Keels, it looks worse than it feels."

And before he even sees him, he knows Jamie isn't alright. Jamie pulls away from the hug he was giving Keeley.

"I doubt that very much," Keeley says. And that's when Roy gets a good look at Jamie, and the pain in his knee is nothing compared to the rage in his heart. He isn't even sure Jamie knows he's there because one of his eyes is swollen shut. And he is covered in newly formed cuts and bruises.

"What the fuck happened?" Roy asks.

"You should probably not be up and-" Jamie starts to deflect, but Roy isn't having it.

"Fuck off," Roy snaps. "Tell me what-"

"Roy!" Keeley glares at him. He glares right back. "Both of you go sit, and I will get Jamie some ice, and then you can yell."

Roy isn't happy about it, but he doesn't argue. Especially not when Jamie gets close enough that he can actually assess the damage.

"Who do I need to kill?" Roy says.

"Come on," Jamie says and moves to help Roy more easily limp his way back to the living room.

"Not hiding some cracked ribs or some shit, are you?" Roy asks as he avoids putting too much weight on him because he still has no idea what happened, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt Jamie.

"Nah," Jamie assures him, but the next words out of his mouth are anything but reassuring. "Bug just thought my face deserved to get acquainted with the hood of my car."

"I am going to kill him," Roy growls. "You fucking father too. The whole fucking lot."

"You aren't killing anyone on that knee," Keeley says as she joins them. She sets down a bottle of water and grabs the bottle of painkillers that Roy had out beside it. Once they both sit on the couch, she hands Jamie an ice pack for his face.

"What happened, babe?" She asks.

Jamie tells them that his dad and his mates caught a ride with some lads from the pub that had gone to the match. Of course, they weren't allowed anywhere near the dog track. But they weren't going to miss an opportunity to make Jamie regret telling anyone. They had always promised him that they would make his life miserable. Thankfully, one of Jamie's neighbors had come out to congratulate him on the match and ended up calling the police. Which meant James and his cronies took off.

"Could have been worse," Jamie assures them.

"You could be dead," Keeley states.

"Maybe, but I'm not. I should have sent you a text and let you know, but I got done with the cops and the medics and just wanted to get here."

"Did they find your dad?" Keeley asks.

"No," Jamie says as he readjusts the ice pack and leans back now that he is done with the story. He looks over at Roy, who hasn't really said much. And it doesn't bode well that his hands are balled into fists.

"You okay, Roy?"

"No, I am not fucking okay," Roy says. Jamie can tell he is trying to keep his voice down because Jamie's head is killing him. "You fucking father would have killed you if your neighbor hadn't shown up. And you are fucking apologizing to us."

"Can you give us a minute, Keeley?" Jamie asks.

"Sure, babe. I should probably call Ted and Rebecca. Let them know. I'll be in the kitchen." She squeezes his shoulder as she passes.

"Thanks, Keels," he says.

"I should have known he'd fucking try something," Roy grumbles. "Should have fucking been there."

"You can't be everywhere, Roy. Was bound to happen."

"Wouldn't have happened if I had-"

"You have your own shit to deal with," Jamie says, cutting him off. "How bad is it?" He gestures to Roy's knee.

"It's fucked, but I'll live," Roy says. "You almost didn't. So don't change the fucking subject."

"The police will handle it," Jamie assures him. "Them and the medics would have insisted I go to A&E if it was too bad. So the fact I'm here means that it's fine. Now tell me what the med team said about your knee."

"They said it's fucked. I'm done. Are they going to actually fucking charge him this time or what?"

"Yeah, since they have a witness and a report," Jamie says as he sets the ice pack down so he can actually look at Roy. "But fuck, Roy. You're-"

"Fuck off," Roy says, but the harsh edge of his words is undermined by the way Roy reaches over and puts the ice back on Jamie's face. "My knee has been fucked for a while and this was long fucking overdue. You tell me I'm too fucking old for this all the time. Bout fucking time I listened."

"You know that's not what I meant," Jamie says. And Roy is more worried about how hard Jamie hit his head for him not to have a smartass retort. "I never wanted- not even when I thought you hated me."

Roy tosses the ice pack away and gently grips Jamie's face. "Hey," Roy starts. "Fuck off with that shit. I know you were just being a prick. Didn't fucking mean it. Just trying to say it could be fucking worse because you could be dead, and that's a lot more fucking terrifying than never playing again. Because I can live with retirement, just not if you aren't part of it."

"Wow, that is probably the sweetest thing you've ever said," Jamie says.

Roy rolls his eyes, but Jamie can't resist. He leans in, and despite his anger and annoyance, Roy meets him halfway and kisses him. He kisses him again because he had a shitty fucking day, and Jamie could have died.

"I should have stayed. I didn't want to deal the the fucking team looking at me with fucking pity. I know it's over for me. And that takes some getting used to, but I should have stayed, and that fucking bastard never would have had the chance. You wouldn't be-"

Jamie cuts him off with a kiss because he fucking loves this man. Roy was probably having the worst day of his life, and all he could think about was Jamie's well-being. His childhood hero didn't seem to care his own career was over. It dawns on Jamie that it's because Roy knew this was coming. They had seen it, not this exactly, but they had known it was going to happen sooner rather than later. Roy knew what was going to happen by a certain date. Roy knew he'd have a place at Richmond still. Roy also knew that Jamie would fucking thrive at Richmond even without Roy on the team. He knew they would be alright and that they'd be together. And Jamie just wants to crawl in Roy's lap and stay there because fucking hell he adores this man.

"Nothing to do about it now," Jamie says.

"I can fucking kill him," Roy says.

"No, you can't!" Keeley shouts from the hall. "So just shut up, tell him you love him and go the hell to bed!"

"Fuck off! This is my house!" Roy shouts back.

"Make me, I dare ya," Keeley challenges.

"Don't fucking tempt me, Jones!"

Jamie chuckles.

"You find this fucking hilarious, don't you?" Roy says to Jamie, but the way Roy's lip twitches at the corner betrays him. Roy can't really help it. Jamie's laugh, even just a chuckle, does stupid fucking things to him. And the fact Jamie is safe in Roy's home, tucked into Roy's side, laughing and smiling despite half his face a bruised and bloody mess, makes Roy feel things he never thought he would. Absolute love and adoration for Jamie fucking Tartt. Keeley might have a point.

"What do you say?" Roy asks and gets a confused look from Jamie. And Roy smiles. "You look fucking knackered."

"Says you, old man," Jamie counters, and Roy huffs a laugh because there's the classic Jamie Tartt retort.

"You better watch that pretty little mouth of yours, Tartt."

"Why? What's it gonna do?" Jamie says. "What you gonna do about it?"

"Oh, I'm going to fucking-"

"You two are ridiculous," Keeley says. Jamie jumps because he hadn't realized she was back in the room, and Roy winces as it jostles his knee. Jamie curses, but before he can fuss, Roy stops him.

"Fucking quit that," Roy insists.

"Sorry, babes," Keeley says as she hands a cup of tea to Roy and sets another down for Jamie because he is too busy focusing on Roy.

Roy waves her off as he accepts the drink. "It's fucking fine. Cheers." He takes a drink and nods. Jamie watches him carefully before he looks back at Keeley. She nods at his cup.

He thanks her and is reminded why he still cares so much for her because she remembers exactly how he likes it. He is so damn lucky to have her as a friend after all the shit he put her through.

"Oi, stop that," Keeley says as she playfully shoves his knee, but not enough that it would jostle Roy's busted-up one.

"What?" Jamie blinks at her.

"I know that look," she says. "You know that look?" She asks Roy. Roy grunts but nods. And Jamie can see the way Roy's brows have furrowed.

"Whatever your fucking worrying about, fucking quit it," Roy says.

"Exactly," Keeley agrees. "You've had a long day. So drink your tea."

"Fucking right," Roy says.

"And you," Keeley looks at him.

"The fuck did I do?" Roy glares at her.

"For starters, you're both idiots," she says. "And you both reek. And I know this one," she nudges Jamie, "hates showering alone, so for my sanity, I'm going to head out." She gets up to leave.

"Wait!" Jamie says, setting his tea down and getting up.

"Yeah?" She stops.

"What did Lasso and Welton say?" Roy asks.

"To call them tomorrow, they will handle the press for now. And you two stay here together because it is safer that way until they catch them."

Roy nods.

"Am I good to go?" She asks.

Jamie hesitates, and Roy gives him an odd look.

"Jamie?" Keeley prompts. Jamie goes over and gives her a hug.

"Thanks for looking out for us," he says to her. "You're the best. We're lucky you put up with us."

Keeley is a bit surprised by it, but she smiles.

"What friends are for, babe," she taps his nose. "Rest up, both of you." She gives a pointed look at Roy. "No murder. You're injured, and your sister will kill you if you do something stupid." She turns back to Jamie and pats his unmarred cheek. "You be good, yeah? Behave."

"He's not a dog," Roy states. Jamie's heart flutters at how quick Roy is to defend him. Even though he knows Keeley doesn't mean anything bad. She just knows Jamie isn't always one to think before he acts, especially when it comes to Roy fucking Kent.

Keeley rolls her eyes.

"Don't be jealous, tough guy," Keeley grins. "We all know he loves you more." She hugs Jamie again. "Text me if you need anything. Later, babes."

Jamie walks her to the door. He notices Roy glaring into his cup of tea as he sits beside him.

"She's just trying to lighten the mood. Just a bit of fun."

"It's fucking fun having your ex-girlfriend having a laugh at you?" Roy asks.

Jamie grins. "She's earned it. I was a fucking prick and treated her-"

"That wasn't fucking you, Jamie. Not the real you. That was who you thought you needed to be because of the same fucking bellend that had you faced smashed in." Roy says as he reaches over and brushes his fingers along the edges of the bruises on Jamie's face.

"Pity that, yeah? Probably a sorry sight to look at, innit?"

"Fuck off," Roy shifts his grip to the side of Jamie's neck. "Could still fucking stare at you all fucking day. Changes nothing. Still you." He presses down every so slightly to emphasize his point. "Fucking lucky I still get to see you after what that fucking prick did. Never again. I'll drive you to and from training. Everywhere else if I need to."

"You can't be with me every second of every day, Roy," Jamie sighs. The exhaustion of the day finally catches up to him as he rubs his eyes. "We've been over this. Your family needs you."

Roy realizes something as he sits there with a battered and exhausted Jamie sitting on his couch, half tucked into his side. There is nowhere else he would rather be. He would take painfully sitting on the couch with Jamie in his arms over damn near anything. It had been fucking miserable waiting for him when both Roy and Keeley knew he should have been there already. Not knowing where Jamie was or if he was okay was fucking awful. All because Jamie had to run by his flat first. And now Jamie's trying to put Roy's family before himself despite the fact that Roy needs him just as much, if not more, than his niece and sister. He loves them with all his heart, but he loves Jamie Tartt with everything he has. Jamie is his family now.

"Fuck off," Roy says, earning a chuckle from Jamie. "Like you're not family." And that stuns Jamie. Jamie's hand that had been absentmindedly rubbing Roy's good knee stops. And Roy wonders if he shouldn't have said that. Sure, they had sort of labeled what they were. They were together, exclusively so, but not publicly. Jamie still had plenty of doubt that Roy would actually want to stay with him in the long run despite having seen the future. He had his doubts because that wasn't their future anymore. Things had changed. They had changed.

"Hey," Roy says, nudging his chin until he looks up at him. "You remember what you saw, Uncle's day, yeah?" Roy asks. Jamie nods as best he can with his face still in Roy's grip. "Good," Roy continues. "Because that's the only family that matters, got it. You, me, the kid, and my sister. Your mum and stepdad, too, I guess, but that's it. Anyone else can fuck right off." His fingers ghost over the edges of Jamie's black eye again. "Especially your old fucking man. He can fucking rot like the rubbish he is for what he's done to you."

Jamie sniffles. He can't help it. Even if his face hurts, he buries it into Roy's shoulder because that's all Jamie has ever actually wanted. He wanted to be wanted. To be loved as much as he loves someone. So he cries, and Roy lets him. It's a bit awkward, and the position is slightly painful as he tries to make it comfortable for Jamie without hurting either of them too much. He plants a kiss on Jamie's messy hair. He doesn't care that Jamie is caked in dried sweat and dirt from the pitch. Roy isn't much better despite washing up a bit when he got home. He had hurt too much before the ice and meds, and he wasn't about to ask Keeley to help him. Nope. That was not an option. He holds Jamie as he cries. Telling him over and over that it's okay and that he is there. Tells him he loves him and that Jamie is fucking perfect. Jamie calms after a few minutes.

"Better?" Roy asks. Jamie nods as best he can from where he is pressed against Roy's chest. "Good." Roy shifts and kisses Jamie's forehead. "But if Keeley texts and finds out we haven't moved, she'll kick both our asses." Jamie huffs a laugh and slowly pulls away. Roy carefully wipes the tears away from Jamie's bruised face. Jamie winces, and Roy pulls away, but Jamie shakes his head.

"Your knee, it's gotta be-"

"No worse than it was before," Roy assures him.

"Probably best to get that shower and go to bed."

Once they are clean and tucked away into Roy's bed, neither of them is able to fall asleep yet because of what happened.

"Move in with me," Roy says. And Jamie wonders if he was asleep in the warmth of Roy's arms. Roy would have wondered if Jamie had heard him in the dark and quiet room if it hadn't been for the way Jamie's hand stopped. Roy had gotten used to the way Jamie's hands always seemed to be moving or searching for warmth along Roy's skin when they were alone. It was surprisingly comforting now that he was used to it. It was a constant reminder that Jamie was there. That it was real. Jamie was not only comfortable but safe and happy. Jamie always pulled away and isolated himself when he was upset.

"What?" Jamie asks.

"Move in with me," Roy repeats.

"Are you asking me because of what happened or…"

"I'm asking you because I sleep like fucking shit when you aren't here. If you'd rather-"

"Yeah, sounds good," Jamie says as he snuggles in closer.

"Yeah?" Roy asks.

"Sure, gonna have to get out of my lease, but it shouldn't be too hard."

[sanversandfriends]

Fic isn't just an act of repair as Henry Jenkins says, but sometimes a safe place in which to tear everything apart. Here to talk about diving into those darker and grittier character spaces is @nerdsbianhokie, a writer who's been captivating Sanvers and Director Sanvers fans for years.

Tell us a little about yourself. How did you get started writing fic? Have you written for other fandoms? What are your favorite tropes?

Over two decades ago, I was six years old and reading a new book and had the sudden realization that I wanted to make people feel like that book made me feel. Since then, I've been a writer. The first fic I wrote was before I even knew fanfic was a thing. I was barely thirteen years old and all about CSI and had this vivid idea of a very short scene. I quickly found places where fic was hosted, and began to read and post.

Since then, I've moved through fandoms, sometimes staying for a time, like with Bering and Wells, other times only lingering for a brief moment. I watched Supergirl between season 1 and two, after learning that Maggie Sawyer, one of my favorite comic book characters (one of the first openly lesbian characters in mainstream comics? out before the comic code was done away with? what's not to love) was joining the show. I didn't watch beyond the first few episodes of season 3, but the characters have a hold of me and aren't letting go.

Since my time in the Bering and Wells fandom, angst and aus have been my favorite spaces to play in. Exploring darker spaces in the safety of fiction has always been a draw of writing to me, and the Supergirl characters can fit so well in so many different universes.

What were your inspirations for this particular story? What was it about this/these ships that grabbed you?

This fic started as a tumblr post by magicmumu2 about Alex and Maggie reuniting years later because their kids keep getting in trouble at school. I then made it sad by giving Alex a recently dead wife.

I really fell into the idea that Alex and Maggie did move on after their breakup, but then remeet at a later point in their lives. When thinking on how Alex might move on in a way I find interesting, I landed on my beloved Lucy Lane. My ultimate ship for Supergirl is Director Sanvers, so I've written all combinations of Alex, Maggie, and Lucy over the years, but the idea that Alex was happy with Lucy, but then lost Lucy and found Maggie again while still mourning, really pulled me in

Has the time spent away from your story changed your outlook or approach to any of the storylines or themes? Have you had any new inspirations or breakthroughs/revelations in the meantime? 

The time away hasn't really changed much, as I've been distracted by so many other fics, but having new eyes on it has really helped me figure out some things I was stuck on that kept me from working on it more.

 Any advice for new or aspiring fic writers?

Write. The best thing you can do is get ink on the paper. Writing is an art that needs to be practiced just like any other. As somebody with a degree in creative writing, I think the time I've spent writing and the amount of writing I've done has, cumulatively, done more for me than all the classes I took. 

If you were going to promote this fic with a single line, what would it be? 

A deep look into grief and healing, mourning and love.

If you’ve already posted some of your work, please provide a link. 

This is the original post, with the prompt and my initial addition.

I have also posted two separate fics that aren't part of this one but are in the universe as I worked out how Alex and Lucy got together and their family dynamic.

[throughalleternity]

Gf!lucy WIP, what’s this one?

Waaaay back, I got an ask about Leon and sex with Alex and Maggie, and I wasn't comfortable writing that/didn't have ideas at the time, and it's nagged at me ever since. So .gf!lucy fic i need to write fic was about that, sorta. I've rolled the idea into the new genderfluid!Lucy and futuristic dick prosthetic fic (ty for the encouragement!), so it ultimately won't be focused on Leon and sex, but if I ever post this, I can finally check the idea off.

Alex’s greeting is their hand finding Lucy—grazing over Lucy’s stomach first, then searching sleepily around for a second until they give up and just pat wherever they can reach. Maggie sighs again, this time amused as Lucy throws an arm over her to pat Alex back, their patting antics escalating until Maggie’s oh my god has them failing to hold back laughter.

...

“Alex,” Maggie exhales in between them. She grinds her ass back against Lucy a moment later, making a surprised noise when she presses against the soft bulge that hadn’t been there this morning. She glances over her shoulder. “Is this—”  Lucy fits their bodies together and Maggie’s breath rushes out of her lungs.

[at-thestillpoint]

40 questions meme: 11,13 and 37👀

[forty questions!]

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

I don't really think of writing as a passion or a hobby. Rather, it's something I feel compelled to do. (I realize this is incredibly self-aggrandizing phrasing. I don't mean that I feel called to it, but rather that there are questions or scenes or potential worlds I'm moved by and can't get out of my head, except by writing them.) But also, I love words and language and picking apart how we put them together to make people feel things. I enjoy playing in that sandbox—the act of writing—and at the end of the day, I write because it's what I want to do most with my free time (and even more with my not-free time). So I guess, in that sense, it is both.

Though, really, is writing actually fun?

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Deeply paraphrasing here, and others have said this much more eloquently, but simply: You can't edit nothing. None of the other advice matters until you have that first, scrappy draft, so get it down on paper and go from there. (I am not taking this advice very well right now.)

37. Talk about your current wips.

My current WIPs are, unfortunately for all of us, the same WIPs I have been talking about for a good six months, plus a few more! Below the cut because I have SO MANY??? (Send help.)

We have on the TG:M docket:

The other FWB fic (love you like a lover should): The Google doc for this was created in March 2023! It is still nowhere close to being done! This is the story that started as a foray into Rooster/Phoenix and quickly evolved into an exploration of Hangman/Phoenix if Phoenix had an unrequited crush on Rooster but started banging Hangman instead.

The Olympics AU (no rules in breakable heaven): Exactly what it sounds like! And also a past lovers to exes/enemies to angry lovers to second chance romance fic. (How many tropes is too many tropes?) I had a good two-day run with this during NaNo, but then work knocked me on my figurative ass, and I haven't been able to make progress since then. My goal is to finish this before the opening ceremony this summer. This is looking less and less achievable.

The politics AU: This is mostly just vibes right now. It's very roughly outlined, but the words aren't flowing yet. I got the idea futzing around on Pinterest and realizing Glen Powell really does look Like That. I'm also just really compelled by different permutations of ambitious woman/arrogant asshole, and the political world is made for stories like that.

wreck my sundays: I heard Maggie Rogers's new single and needed to write something, because "My friend Sally's getting married / And to me that sounds so scary" resonated a little too hard, while "take my money, wreck my Sundays" wrecked me. This will have a spot of fake dating. I want to keep this in the 6,000-7,000 word range, which is ironically what's keeping me from writing it, because my deep-seated need to provide context and world build is making it too verbose, and that is not a rabbit hole I want to go down.

For other universes, we have:

the truth about dreams: A Sally-focused companion piece to i dreamed you a sin and a lie. For some reason, it's been a lot harder to write this one. (Some reason: Poseidon's POV is much more interior, because it's all speculative. To give Sally's POV justice, I actually need to build the world.) And yes, I did have fun looking up songs with "horse" in the title, because I am hilarious. What serendipity that Horses fits so well.

An untitled coda to The Artful Dodger that explores what would happen if Governor Fox gave Jack a pardon, from the Governor's perspective. Governor Fox's "my wife and daughters think I'm a simpleton, and they're probably right" got to me the same way Daisy Buchanan's "a beautiful little fool" line did. There is something there and it is incredibly compelling!