#do you see what other countries do? They block roads
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
it’s not that protests and demonstrations “dont work”, they very much so do as most any disruptive action will, it’s that americans don’t fucking know how to protest
#americans know how to hold up signs for clout#and undermine our own blockades#there HAVE been nearly successful demonstrations that wouldve been#if not for cops being basically military at this point#i do understand what stops many from protesting and striking here#but like#cmon guys. We can do better than this#do you see what other countries do? They block roads#they block businesses#they yell they shout#they demand to be noticed#they dont do this polite little shuffle#and agree to take up as little space as possible#or refuse to strike and withhold labor
1 note
·
View note
Text
"don't vote for Harris or you're supporting genocide" "voting blue is still voting for fascists" Then what else do you expect us to do?
Here are some options y'all seem to insist on and why they're fucking stupid:
Vote Third Party :: Until we have ranked-choice voting (and probably even if we did have ranked-choice voting), it is practically impossible to make a 3rd-party candidate viable. There's not enough of the population that's far enough from moderate to give up their "safe" blue vote for some "revolutionary."
Don't Vote At All :: I'd prefer to pick my enemy. If I'm going to be working in spite of the government, or even against it in some ways, I'd rather the people I'm working against not already be targeting me for being queer, for example. If my options are "bad" or "much, much worse" I'm gonna pick "bad" and try to improve things from there.
Violent Revolution :: It's a cosplay power fantasy in the same vein as the Right-wingers looking for a reason to shoot protesters. Assuming you even have enough people organized and enough firepower to pull that off in the first place…have you prepared a plan to keep the innocents alive and safe? Are you sure you can keep supply chains for food and medicines intact? Are you sure there will be resources available for the disabled, the scared, the young and old, those who won't be able to fight and still need to be taken care of? Turns out revolution is ugly and causes a lot of undue collateral damage. Are the lives "saved" really going to outweigh those whose lives will be upended and destroyed? It's not like a newly-toppled, unorganized country will be able to do anything about Israel/Gaza, so you're just hurting and killing far more people than you're saving.
As for the power you do have to better things (and make Leftism more viable as a political stance in the US)?
Work at the level of your local government. If you're in a small enough town or neighborhood and think you have what it takes, run for local office. Be a local face of the left wing; you're far more likely to sway a small town to your views than the whole country, and each small town with a socialist-leaning government is a dot on the map for larger-scale viability, and you can help keep your community safe while trying to build up in scale.
Build community so we can keep each other safe if worse does come to worst. Push mutual aid initiatives, help at food banks, grow produce to donate to those in need, apply to work at your local free clinic, empower local businesses whenever possible so that if there is a socioeconomic collapse, you and those you love aren't left completely without resources.
Protest, and make it disruptive. You can be disruptive without being violent: graffiti, blocking roads, encampments, sit-ins, to name a few examples. Create inconveniences so it gets people's attention whether they like it or not.
Above all, FUCKING VOTE BLUE. You're choosing your enemy. You get to help decide if the government we're working in spite of is run by milquetoast neoliberal war hawks who do, on some rare occasions, actually make things marginally better…or full-tilt Christo-fascists who want to kill some of us for kissing people with the same genitals as us. There aren't any other options that are going to be picked. It sucks, but at the bare minimum we can pick the option that isn't going to actively murder us while we try to build up viability for a candidate who won't sell out brown people to an ethnostate.
If you aren't doing at least one of the things above, then don't lecture me about how I keep myself and my community safe. I'd love to see a United States (or some future iteration of it) that acknowledges the sovereign rights of indigenous peoples, that doesn't fund genocide, that provides healthcare as a basic human right, that doesn't meddle in every other country's business. But if we are to see that, let alone help that happen, we need to survive this next presidential administration.
Edit: y'all have lost reblog privileges. If you wanna screenshot this and have stupid unnuanced opinions OFF of my post, be my guest. Just leave me tf alone.
921 notes
·
View notes
Text
two graves, one gun — r. cameron
sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')
series: every few lifetimes
❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞
pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.
words: 1.3k+
warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl
the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.
8:30 p.m.
your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.
pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.
straight to voicemail. fuck.
you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.
you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.
"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.
you: where are you???
when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.
you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.
"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.
"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"
"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.
"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."
he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."
"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"
barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"
"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"
you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.
"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"
"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.
"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."
thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."
"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"
you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"
"rafe-"
"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"
"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"
"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"
"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"
he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.
"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."
—
the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.
"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.
you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."
"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"
"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"
"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"
you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."
rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.
"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."
"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."
"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.
"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."
not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"
"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."
letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"
"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.
"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."
"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.
"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."
the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.
"what?"
"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."
tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."
"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.
"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.
"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."
"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"
"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."
you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”
rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.
you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.
"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."
his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.
part 2.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl
#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe obx#obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#outer banks#rafe outer banks#rafe fic#sad rafe#rafe angst#rafe cameron fic#obx fic
685 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cowboy Up - Pt.1 - Ryan x Dutton!reader
Um so I watched all of Yellowstone last week and as a result, my multi-year writer's block was broken by a need to see more of Ryan because I am obsessed with Ian Bohen. Idk how many parts this will have or how often it will get updated as I'm in the last few months of uni but I hope y'all enjoy!
Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!Reader (Kayce's twin sister)
WC: 1053
Next part
Disclaimer: Beyond watching Yellowstone I have zero/little knowledge of Western riding and the ranching lifestyle but I do know horses so that has certainly influenced this! I'm also English so writing dialogue correctly for them is not my strong point! If you find any issues please let me know!
---
The sun was just beginning to dip below the mountains and the cold was starting to set in when she joined him on the fence. Neither of them spoke for a while, just looking out at the vastness in front of them, all that was theirs but came with so many conditions.
Eventually she broke the silence, “so you told him? How’d he take that one?”
Wordlessly he opened his shirt where the ‘Y’ was just starting to scab over, still red and angry.
“Motherfucker,” she swore, “this ain’t fair Kayce. He doesn’t just get to do this.”
He shook his head, “dad does whatever he wants and there ain’t no consequences for him. That’s why I gotta do this.”
“Shit man. What’s Monica gonna do? Besides worrying about you getting your ass shot in the desert miles from civilisation?”
Kayce chuckled, “beats getting my ass shot in the middle of Montana miles from civilisation. She’ll be okay, her family will help and she’ll be a teacher. Just like she planned. It’s you I’m worried about here with dad and no one else to speak sense to. ‘Cept Lee”
“Well I’m leaving, dad be damned. I’m not gonna be a pawn in his power trip. Gonna go see this godforsaken country and win it all so that when I come back he can’t question whether it’s where I wanna be,” she declared.
Her brother rolled his eyes, “you ain’t talking about the same him now.”
“I don’t know what your talking about,” she denied, staring out at the darkened mountains.
Kayce shoved her shoulder, “you can’t bullshit to me y/n. That’s the one problem with being twins, ain’t no way to lie to me.”
“I’m just a kid to him, he ain’t ever gonna see me any other way if I stay here,” she admitted, “hell if I stay here no one will ever see me as anything more than his kid. ‘S why we both gotta do this Kayce.”
He nodded, “no way to stand in the sun in this state, always gonna be a shadow.”
“When I come back I’ll be able to stand in sunlight so bright I’ll have a fucking halo.”
-/-/-
2 years later…
Montana has its charms all year round, but fall has a particular appeal. The leaves had started to turn, there was a chill in the air that only seemed to get stronger and there was still a frost on the grass that the sun hadn’t hit.
With the sun keeping the cold from their bones, the Yellowstone ranch hands were occupying themselves keeping their roping skills fresh. Rip observed from the sidelines as the new hand struggled to keep up with Ryan who turned to lecture the kid about keeping his eye on the steer.
Lloyd rolled his eyes when he missed the horns again, “you gotta try harder than that if you wanna be a wrangler!”
“He keeps pulling the damn steer too early,” the hand argued back.
Ryan glared at him, “don’t fuckin’ blame me for your bad skills.”
Before they could descend into an all out brawl, the group were distracted by the sound and sight of truck coming down the road. They watched it pull up in front of the barn, trailer in tow. A rare silence occupied them as they watched a young woman step out, adjust her hat then stare out across the ranch in front of her.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Lloyd muttered, “she’s back. You fuckin’ know about this?”
Rip said nothing, but his face gave the answer. The other hands who recognised her muttered between themselves about what she was doing back after so long.
The new hand leaned over towards Ryan, “who the fuck is that and why does everybody care?”
“That is y/n Dutton,” he answered without taking his eyes off of her.
“I didn’t know John had another daughter,” he responded.
Ryan shook his head, “hell kid you gotta lot to learn about this place.”
“She’s fuckin’ hot mind,” the hand murmered.
The older hand spat out his words, “you keep words like that off your tongue if you want to keep it.”
Lee stepped out of the barn and stepped around the truck to greet her, “the prodigal daughter returns.”
“I don’t see Beth anywhere,” she laughed bitterly, “but it’s good to see you Lee.”
He hugged her, “I’m glad you’re back. Been a long time coming.”
“I came back for me, not for him remember that,” she turned towards the corral, “think I’ve given them enough of a show to explain it so they can pick their jaws up off the floor?”
He gestured for her to follow him towards where the ranch hands were all still quietly watching. She strode over to the group, smiling at Rip who nodded back at her.
“Where’s that mare of yours?” He asked.
Y/n shrugged, “a champion barrel horse would be wasted on this ranch. Sold her for more money than I’m ever gonna earn in the rest of my lifetime.”
“You ain’t rodeoing anymore?” Lloyd questioned.
“I did what I set out to do when I went on the circuit. Saw this godforsaken country and won it all. It’d get boring to win it over again,” she moved her gaze towards where Ryan was watching her, “ain’t no one gonna question where I wanna be now.”
Rip nodded, “afraid we ain’t got a horse to spare for you y/n.”
“I got that covered Rip. Got one coming up tomorrow from a ranch in Wyoming. Some fuckin’ old school boys who don’t know how to be nice to a horse they didn’t ruin,” she explained, “man’s wife broke it and now she’s dead ain’t no one gonna ride him gentle. Figured he might stand a chance with me.”
Lloyd chuckled, “always were a soft hand. Figured that’s how you won it all.”
“Guess that question that remains is, do you have a place for me? Not in the house but here,” she clarified.
Lee looked at Rip then back at his sister, “I reckon so. You gonna stay in the bunkhouse?”
“Oh fuck no,” y/n laughed, “I didn’t drag that thing all the way from Texas to sleep with these fuckheads. It’s looked after me in worse places. Think it’ll do just fine here.”
#ryan yellowstone#ryan yellowstone x reader#yellowstone#yellowstone tv#yellowstone imagine#dutton ranch#dutton!reader#ian bohen
554 notes
·
View notes
Text
LOWLIFE. | L.DH
— Prologue: “Dear diary, today Lee Haechan looked so fucking hot coming out of the boy’s changing rooms shirtless and I can’t believe how quickly I got turned on staring at his bare stomach.” — He pauses turning to you holding up the red book. “Oh y/n and you claim to be innocent, then what is all of this?”
— Summary: Where your childhood enemy found your diary one day where you wrote all your dirty thoughts about Lee fucking Haechan.
— Genre: Childhood enemies. Smut dni. Haechan is mean, cruel and horrible to y/n but she somehow likes it. Haechan treats y/n like she’s his pet. Hard Dom x submissive y/n. Edging and overstimulation. Mention of sex toys being used in public. It’s pretty filthy. Haechan doesn’t give Y/n a break. He sorta blackmails her, but everything is consensual. Minors dni. Manipulative Haechan. Y/n peeks and stalks Haechan secretly, she watches him change in the boys changing rooms.
— Notes:
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
There is one secret no one knows about you except piece of paper all jumbled inside a journal. Two years worth of research and your dark secrets. You are known as the quiet girl at your school. You don’t have many friends and you prefer your own company than yourselves shared with others.
You’re a pretty girl, the innocent type that looks lost all the freaking time. You wear thick black glasses, your hair is mostly straight and down with your bangs out. You try to stay out of everyone’s eyes because of your shyness.
But one thing no one knows is that you have the biggest crush on your childhood enemy Lee fucking Donghyuck, infamously known as Haechan at your school.
You weren’t sure why you started developing these sudden feelings for the boy when he’s done nothing but completely ignore you unless he wants to bully the fuck out of you with his annoying group of friends.
You see you and Donghyuck used to be friends. Quite close friends actually up until you both started going to middle school you lost your friendship and Donghyuck turned on you suddenly. He became friends with another group of people. Leaving you all alone. But nonetheless you remain the same.
He started doing all things to you because he knew you were weak and defenceless he also knew you cared for him so it made this twice as more thrilling for the sadistic boy.
You’re leaving your classroom soon to leave the high school. You’re a senior who’s going through the terrible exam trauma season, just like every other senior student in your school has been doing for these past month and a half. You left packing your bag in an empty classroom because everyone was dismissed to go home, no student was left behind except of course you.
You’re taking your time packing your things. The class that you’re coming out of was history and that’s something you’re pretty good at. Honestly you’re probably the only student who’s taking that subject seriously. Your teacher always praised you for contributing when no one else was.
You walk towards the doorway about to leave till a long arm blocks the road to leaving the class, you could recognise the arm from mile away, in fact you could smell this distinctive smell from countries if you could. It was Lee Haechan running in with short sleeve white plain shirt and sweatpants he wore the sports attire looking like he was dripping an entire ocean from his hair and down the face.
You hate how much you were weak in comparison to the boy because knowing him he wasn’t feeling as stargazed as you are watching every bead sweating down his chin, to hear the sound of his ruffle pants, the veiny hands clenching the doorway because he wants to go inside to grab his remaining stuff and bag he’d forgot in your class due to the football practice.
“D-donghyuck…!”
You gulp as he saw your gaze lower down and he pushes through you staring you down like you were a piece of meat to him.
“Move out of my way specs.” He taunts going behind the classroom grabbing the black bag putting it on one side of the shoulders while grabbing the grey celine hoodie in the other arm. He turns towards the door again watching you standing there like a lost dumb sheep.
He always called you these devastating teasing names because of your glasses, even though he wears them, he found it to be fun seeing you grow shy or blush at these names. Somehow you never once told him to stop which made him think you probably enjoy the slightest attention you get from him.
He wasn’t wrong.
You did like it even though many people found it to be the term ‘bullying’. In your eyes it was called something that friends do, no, not even friends would do this. Instead it’s something you and Donghyuck do. Just you together.
“Why are you still standing there like you have something to say to me?” A smirk crawls right on his bronze stultifying face he was glowing with sweat making him look like a giant star right in front of you it was impossible not to stare. Donghyuck’s voice had a way of pulling your head into the gutter where everything was ten times more lewd and unnecessarily making you a huge mess.
You look away from the moment his two dangerous daggers were watching you up and down waiting for an answer you could’ve give. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak up enough.
“Oh. You’re not going to answer me now? Don’t you think when someone’s talking to you it’s polite to look at them when they are.” He tauntingly adds closing the space between you where his hands crawls up to your jawline latching it in the hold of his palms and then twisting your face round so you can stare at his face.
Your eyes met and he felt your breathing hitch and your mouth letting out a tiny yelp in the process of twisting you round to face him finally. Your throat goes dry and you swiftly shake your eyes when he was watching you with a face that could kill you. You’re praying that he can’t hear the way your lungs were hyperventilating.
You break midst trying to make sense. “Donghyuck i—“ He blankly looks at you. “Haechan.” He strut towards you once more.
You’re blinking now helplessly, in confusion.
“It’s Haechan. Not Donghyuck.” You can see that he was now visibly annoyed by how you’re freely calling him by his first name. Unlike everyone in the school and even the teachers, they know him by Haechan. They call him Haechan and nothing else.
But you’re not someone who was used to calling him by such a foreign name because he will always be little Donghyuck to you. The Lee Donghyuck who was your friend and will always be that person to you in your heart. You couldn’t help it you suppose you were too used to calling him by that.
“Sorry I slipped my tongue i guess.” You say apologetically.
He wanted to roll at you apologising because he knew no matter what he says you’ll always forget it and do the same again; calling him by his first name that he so hated. He hates the way you call him so sweetly too as if you care for him. If anything it was pathetic. You were pathetic.
“I’m going now.” You announce without Haechan’s care he silently stares, not giving much care to you. You bow your head leaving the classroom and he watches you leave until something dropped at the back of the classroom making the boy twitch around and walk to what could’ve fell.
He thought at first it was one of the paintings on the walls but when walking to the further back something slides on the wall when the left leg hit something skidding a square book on the floor.
It was a red journal with a leather type strapping case round it and he felt his eyebrows twitch when he picks it up standing in middle of the classroom where he was the only one left now.
‘Did Specs leave this behind?’ He thought dusting it off. Donghyuck looks behind him until he sighs trailing off. “She’s so hopeless, what an idiot.” He frowns as he opens the book.
“I bet she’s got class notes here.” He mockingly adds. “She’s got nothing better to do.”
He wasn’t expecting anything in that stupid journal of yours if anything he was expecting it to be the most boring thing ever written and he could’ve read. It should’ve been history. It should’ve been maths or maybe even freaking science he was reading. — but the minute the pages were flipping through like a crust off the bread he saw the life out of his eyes leave his body like he saw the most unbelievable things ever to be discovered.
It was a moment to remember for sure because even the soul inside him was deceiving him when he saw the written things you’ve done and thought about. It will never end now. Donghyuck will never let you live this down even in death he will remind you of this forever and ever, because this was a whole new side to you that you’ve been hiding.
And whatever you’re hiding now is with him.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Nonononono!”
You are rummaging around your bedroom trying to find where on earth your diary could be it’s not like it’s easy to forget it somewhere considering how bright red it is. It’s not entirely small either so you have no idea where it could be.
You’re stressing out because what if you lost that thing forever? You had the diary since the start of your second year in high school. You can’t lose it now, it’s too precious to lose.
Your mother is standing by the door arms crossed watching your distance expression go from small sadness to absolutely terrified thought of someone finding it. It’s not exactly the most pleasant thing to find when you have your deepest secrets written on there that no one could ever know.
“Where could it be?” You grab on your duvet lifting it up trying to search your bed now from head to toe. You’re going on all fours looking underneath the bed and then looking over it. Hell you were even looking inside your attic for it and you knew it could’ve be there but there was a slight chance your mother put it up there with the rest of the storage garbage.
You sat down sighing deeply failing at finding your precious item that’s got your heart running hundred miles a minute just by thinking all sorts of bad scenarios that you could be having right now.
“I swear it was just here in my bag, I am sure of it. I never leave it behind without me.” You state seriously, your mother knows how important it is for you now that she saw your eyes searching everywhere for it.
She looks around the room seeing the amount of mess laying on the ground, your clothes on the scattering bedroom floor, your wardrobes open door widely available for anyone to look inside, your bed was a mess and so was your school bag. You forced it open letting everything out when you saw your diary missing.
“Honey maybe you left it at your school locker have you thought of that?” Your mother told you.
It was certainly a possibility it could’ve been there, you will check tomorrow but you swore you grabbed it on your way home in the history class.
Your voice hurls at the end syllables like you were still unconvinced by the whole lot.
“Check tomorrow okay? Clean up for now. Your whole room is a pigsty mess. Afterwards come downstairs to have your dinner.”
She leaves your room and you lay on the bed suddenly before your legs curl up kicking in the air. You wanted to rip your hair out because now you’re here worried as hell about your flipping diary that could ruin you — quite frankly it could make your whole life miserable. If anyone read it that is. But no one would read something like that and expect it’s you, right?
You told yourself it’s okay. There’s many people with your name, therefor no one will expect it’s you. Afterall you’re a nobody at your school.
You turn around when you saw your phone screen pop up with a new notification. Turning to the phone grabbing it with your palm, you saw an unfamiliar username texting you.
‘No way…’
“Lee Donghyuck!” You murmur sitting up on your bed now intensely looking at the screen wondering why was he texting you this late? Actually why was he texting you at all. He doesn’t text you unless he calls to force you to give him your class notes so he could cheat in the tests.
You couldn’t believe it until you open it up fully replying back.
lee donghyuck : Specs come meet me right now.
You : What why?
lee donghyuck : Don’t ask and just do it.
You : I don’t want to donghyuck I’m very busy i don’t want to go anywhere.
lee donghyuck : that’s fine i’m outside your house.
You: WHAT
You couldn’t believe the text in front of you. Your mouth was wide open dropping dead at how fast he responded.
Lee fucking Donghyuck was outside your house, unannounced. It pulled you thinking you did something wrong because why else would the hottest guy at your school be there?
Running down you grabbed the spare black hoodie on yourself before opening the door letting a harsh cold breath of air hitting your face putting all your hair up and your gaze meets the boy standing in front of your door, he wore a white hoodie with a spare denim jeans. He looked super good out of the school uniform you had to admit.
You couldn’t stop drooling but you looked away questionably.
Donghyuck saw your expression falling apart but the moment you had your eyes laying on him like he was the most ethereal person ever he felt a giant egotistical boost to the already large ego he has.
Your mouth opens unable to find any motive nor the reasoning for his sudden actions. “What are you doing here Donghyuck— at 8pm.” You look at your phone lockscreen. The time was taken away and the boy gave a quick smirk to you.
“Y/n?— who is it.”
Your mother rushes to the front door the moment she saw Donghyuck her expression lit up. But yours fell into darkness out of hell because you knew damn well your mother was about to embarrass you through her way. She remembers Donghyuck, in fact she loved little Donghyuck. But she didn’t know you guys were still not friends anymore and she doesn’t know how much of a giant bully he is to you now.
Because of course you don’t want to burden your mother with how much you are confusing with Donghyuck. When he’s without his friends he’s probably half decent and with his friends he’s got no decency to his own persona. However he certainly wasn’t your friends either way.
But you guys still treat and speak to one another as if you guys were.
“Oh my gosh if it isn’t Lee Donghyuck! I haven’t seen you since you were… oh my lord this small to my ankles darling.”
Donghyuck gave this foreign smile to his beautiful face full off mysterious evil because you knew damn well he couldn’t smile for anyone this sweetly. You look at that smile you cannot recognise it felt like everything you knew of him now was gone. Your mother welcomes the boy inside your home. As much as it gave you massive anxiety to have your crush and enemy in your freaking house.
“Ah it’s okay Y/n’s mum i came over to see Y/n. If it’s okay that is. I have something important to discuss regarding our maths test we have tomorrow.”
It somehow made you wonder why he was here in the first place and what was he intending to do.
The room grew into a tiny square because you felt your lungs puff out by the mention of maths. Donghyuck’s scarce energy could kill you there was an eerie sense about this whole thing and you could feel it at the bottom of your stomach ready to cause a spillage over.
Your mother smiles. “Of course. Y/n take Donghyuck upstairs and show him what he needs so he can be on his way.”
You look at your mother giving a nod saying nothing. Your gaze returns to Donghyuck who was staring at you already, smirking widely like he won something.
But you couldn’t put your hands on it.
Donghyuck slowly enters your room seeing how much of a mess it is he can imagine what you’ve been looking for, it somehow would begin to fill his empty stomach with cruel satisfaction seeing you worry because he was five steps ahead of you before you know it the moment he hears you come in and close the door he grabbed your wrist turning around and throwing you on the bed making you lay there as you let out a soft scream that’s cut off by a lean dainty hand with long fingers and a vein stretching on it so mythically making this feel like a fever dream seeing how the boy who hates your guts the most was on top of you covering your mouth.
He smuggles his palm across your soft chapped mouth putting his finger on his lips to shush you down with a look belonging to a man with malicious intents.
A shiver was sent down your neck watching him. He loved seeing this expression of confusion on you, the way your eyebrows furrow together arching down to resemble a small animal scared to die.
“Shhh. Don’t scream okay, understand?” He said looking for somewhat a nod or something from you.
You look at him letting out a muffled okay and a nod with your head. He slowly retracts back his hand when he felt like he could let you go and then going inside the hoodie pockets he would take out,
Your freaking diary.
“How did you—!”
You couldn’t believe your eyes but you open your mouth to shout what and how does he have this but he puts a finger on your lips glaring down at you.
“You said you would be quiet.” He growls at you as if he knew you’d be like this and you move your eyes ready to grab the diary but he has stretched his arm up in the air making you fall over and tip toe to grab it.
“Give me that back. It’s mine.”
But no matter what you’ll always be unable to reach it no matter how much you jump or do the tip toe with your feet you’re never going to reach your diary when he’s got this long arms and legs. He was looking at you smirking widely.
“Donghyuck this isn’t funny give me my diary back!” You shout with your eyes watching the diary in his hand.
“Nahuh.” He said with a condescending laugh pulling away from you holding the diary down again in the both hands. You watch him with your eyes widen terrified by this.
You wished it could be anyone but him, anyone but him. Donghyuck was the spawn of devil in other words he’s going to ruin you now.
You felt small and exposed by this whole thing you couldn’t believe it this whole time your flipping diary was with the guy you were literally begging it not to be with it’s like earth was punishing you. It’s like this was your most lowest point of your life now, you’re doomed and you are in disbelief because how can this happen to you?
You whisper begging. “Please can i have it back?”
You tried to appear pathetic than you already look because embarrassment and shame wasn’t enough to describe how you’re feeling currently in this moment on. But it seems like the boy had no intention of letting you go easily, at least not like this. He hasn’t even had his fun yet with you.
Donghyuck ignores your plead starting to open the diary up. The fingers were flipping the pages to a section in the middle where a crowding smile was drawn on the boy’s cheeks like a Cheshire Cat.
You clench your hands seeing him open it. “Donghyuck don’t read it.” You say out loud in panic.
“Shhhh Y/n I’m trying to find a very specific page.” He retorts back until he found it looking back with a bright light on him. “Aha! Found it.”
He turns to you to get a good wild and live experience of seeing the life crush out of your eyes and leaving your home. You’re dreading it seeing that the boy knew exactly how to push your buttons now. He had control and you weren’t even aware of it until you were read like a story from Donghyuck reading upon the pages with his fingers and his eyes trailing from word to word on the diary page. “Dear diary, today Lee Haechan looked so fucking hot coming out of the boy’s changing rooms shirtless and I can’t believe how quickly I got turned on staring at his bare stomach.” — He pauses turning to you holding up the red book. “Oh y/n and you claim to be innocent, then what is all of this?”
You stand there still like you were a mime stuck in an imaginary see through dimension box. You wish you were actually because Donghyuck’s live vocals reading your own diary out loud to you knowing damn well it’s about him and how your true feelings were there about lingering. It was embarrassment beyond anything you’ve ever felt before and you don’t wish this on anyone, not this feeling not when your enemy.
“Now tell me this. How long have you been spying on me in the boy’s changing rooms?” He smirks waiting for some kind of vocal response from you but all he got from you was bright red cheeks and trembling eyes.
As much as he loved seeing you this ashamed he wanted actual words and not just a physical reaction. Perhaps you were shocked. Too shocked to even speak. Donghyuck fits his tongue across his cheek balling it up in annoyance. “No answer? Of course no answer you’re the one who writes all these dirty fantasies with me in this book.”
You look away stuttering. “I- I didn’t mean to look at you getting changed.”
He laughs. “Oh yeah? Your diary says otherwise darling.” He rolls the pages out. “Here it says you’d want me to fuck your mouth full of my load until you can’t talk anymore so how about that?”
You didn’t want him to re-read all your dirty thoughts about Haechan you have with him out loud it physically pains you and makes you cringe out loud even more than you’d think.
“I want him to make me scream his name so the whole world knows I’m his.”
‘I can’t… make it stop.’
“Lee Donghyuck can be mean to me and treat me like shit and I’d crawl back for more.” He laughs finding this one sort of funny. Who would’ve thought you’d crawl back to him for more.
You clench your nails into your palm.
“My favourite one is this one.” Donghyuck clears his throat straightening up the shoulders as he starts to tauntingly read. “I’m starting to think i may have feelings for my enemy Lee Donghyuck it’s shameful because it began with the moment he started to hate me.”
“Oh specs that’s freaking shameful. Are you a masochist perhaps?” He snorts watching you. He may be right at this moment. Donghyuck knew you could handle this shame considering you wrote a whole diary dedicated to him he must give you the prompt that you did well worshiping him behind the close doors.
It’s an effort to be this diligent as you.
“Can I have it back now… are you done insulting me yet?” You bit your bottom lip now simple angered and Donghyuck could notice the visible fire in your eyes nevertheless he couldn’t care and he took a step forward pushing you down on the bed making you sit down as he grabs a fistful of your hair tugging it.
You couldn’t help but wince but somehow you wanted him to pull more of your head. He made you look up at him as he puts the diary in the air again with his hand raising it up.
“I’m not done with you Y/n. Listen up if you don’t want the whole world to know about your fucking secret then you listen to me and do as i say got it?” Donghyuck spat leering his eyes at you and you harshly clench your eyes nodding as he lets go off your head.
“Good, tomorrow wear this and don’t take it off understood?”
Your gaze goes bleak and pale like you’ve possible seen a freaking paranormal ghost right now but the minute you touch the small pocket sized vibrator you look at Donghyuck with shaky teeth.
“W-What? Why am i going to wear this tomorrow. ” You let out pushing the Vibrator back but Donghyuck taunts you smirking.
“I don’t want to do that.” You state throughly.
“Wear it tomorrow or your mother will know about your diary. You wouldn’t want your mother knowing how much of a slut her daughter is right?”
He coos brushing some of your bangs behind the ears smiling down at you evilly and you shudder at his warm touch against your pale skin. You gulp looking down.
Looks like there’s only one way.
“Good it’s settled then.” He says after you gone quiet thinking about it seeing how you’re up for it now. You couldn’t help but think how cruel and mean he is you are starting to completely change your whole feelings about the boy. But some deep part of you only remembers the little him. It was a war in your body knowing damn well you aren’t able to fully hate him.
But you’re sure of one thing now.
Donghyuck is the biggest lowlife.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The next day came but you’ve never been dreading more about the sun rising to pass on the next day. You hated that you came into school full jumpy and anxious knowing damn well your enemy is on the hunt to end you. To torture you on endless terms.
The first class you had was English but you couldn’t help but sit down blowing out gentle air waves from your lips as you get out your English’s book and workload papers from the last lesson.
The next minute someone else enters after you slamming down behind you taking a seat there. You weren’t sure who would sit there because no one sat there before. Everyone has an arranged seating arrangement that can’t be changed.
You turn around to see who it was only to be met with the familiar sight of the boy laid back slanting watching you keenly.
“Donghyuck…?” You let out as you turned to look around and the boy leans in whispering. Then a sudden burst of energy from underneath your school black skirt begins to run you down your spine with shivers. Donghyuck saw your face disappear from surprised to shocked knowing you, you were probably embarrassed to realise the situation you’re in. The vibration in your panties had you squirming on your seat suddenly and you couldn’t help but realise it was on a low setting right now.
Your eyes fell down to Donghyuck’s hands who were hidden in the pockets with the live remote controller for the vibrator inside your panties like he said, you wore it today only to get absolutely punished in middle of your English class that’s starting. You were now filled with absolute contempt to focus but no matter what during class you could only focus on your thighs rubbing together to grab more friction. At the same time you didn’t want to do that because the more friction you will lose yourself and you need to be quiet.
It didn’t help that Donghyuck was behind you Whispering remarks only to piss you off. He was pretending to be innocent but you knew well what they meant in actual reality.
“You’re awfully quiet there y/n.” Sang Donghyuck from behind you tapping his pen at your back.
You flinch at the sudden change of his actions he usually would never do anything in class. He often avoids you in your classes with him finding you a complete nuisance but now he’s doing all he can to push you off the edge cliff you’re standing on but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You instead bury your head low and clench your eyes tight when suddenly the finger on the remote controller has increased the speed seeing you resist the low pressure; Donghyuck wasn’t going to let you go easy. He wanted to see you fall apart in front of him and beg him to do something about it.
The speed of the vibrator brushing your clit ever so slowly made you whimper into your hands the classmates around you swore they heard you but they weren’t sure who it came from. Donghyuck saw the people chatting amongst themselves and the teacher was silently marking the papers at the desk. It was quiet and it was starting to hit the dangerous territory where even the slightest sounds can be heard. You never wanted to move away so fast because the vibrator mixing into your wet soaking panties through your black skirt will be having you sweating like you are at a giant room becoming cooked alive. From inside your pussy lips were brushing at the folds of the vibrator where it felt like a whole new sensation and you bite your tongue when a moan was coming out.
You never felt so exposed. You’re squirming at your seat and you’re at everyone’s eyes who could see you slip out if you make any mistake. Donghyuck smirking watching you as his body was slanting back on the chair behind you with an innocent face he sped the next vibrator speed to maximum. But your body began to flinch and trying to run away from your high you felt your hips rut on the chair and the redness coming to your forehead and cheeks making it visible like you’re sick. You put your hand up suddenly standing up.
“Miss I need the toilet.” You loudly announce with a pant and the teacher looks at you. “Okay be quick with it.”
Donghyuck was laughing under his breathe watching you run out of the classroom like your life depended on it. He didn’t change the speed he left it on the maximum so you could suffer with it. The boy chuckling from afar made Jaemin turn around seeing his friend laugh a little for once, with a true smile of something he was addicted on.
‘Strange.’ Jaemin thought.
As you ran out you were inside a toilet stall taking off your panties down to the ankles and taking a seat on the toilet you let out a grasping moan rubbing your folks and the chasing your whole high; you play with your clit clenching your eyes the more pleasuring overstimulation hit your pussy. Your swollen clit was red and abused it made everything so much more sensitive and difficult that you were so quick to your own high. You made sure to keep your thoughts on being quiet but the further you went the deeper you got and you remembered it was Donghyuck doing this to you and somehow you were more aroused than before. You couldn’t help but get your feelings involved and now you’re here moaning his name softly in the girl’s bathroom where anyone could walk in on you. Fingering your tight and wet sloppy hole with your two fingers until you came hard.
You came so hard you couldn’t remember if it was two orgasm or a singular orgasm that felt like it would take forever to get over it. The vibrator eventually stopped and you could feel it turn off. You let out a sigh as your red face was visible when coming out the stall with your panties back on and the skirt lowered down. You’d wash your hands in the sink and then you washed your face to cool it down you couldn’t help but notice how fucked out you look. You can’t go in class like this.
You look away leaving the girl’s toilets and as you did your arm was pulled by a boy you noticed to be Donghyuck standing out the girl’s bathrooms with a low angle levelling your eyes so you could see him.
“Now that was a long toilet break, Y/n. Wonder what took you so long Hm?”
Your eyes drop down. “Donghyuck— how long were you standing there for…” you felt your eyebrows raise up and Donghyuck smirks coming closer.
“From the moment you left the class, and i heard everything.” He whispers.
You never wanted to be buried alive so much until now knowing he heard you moan his name and as well as do so much more, it’s like he’s only going to get more information off of you and use it against you some more. You cannot escape Lee Donghyuck.
You gulp as you saw the boy point at the remote in his front school trousers pockets. The brunette locks on his face made him so much more attractive you couldn’t help but had the urge to caress it and wrap your fingertips in them but you pulled yourself together the moment his stern honeymoon voice broke your thoughts away.
“Next class you can’t walk out to use the bathroom excuse understand? You need to stay in that classroom.”
‘Oh god I’m fucking screwed.’
Donghyuck walks away going back into class leaving you all alone standing in middle of the corridor outside the girl’s bathroom. You never felt so exposed until Donghyuck has the effect on making you feel all sorts of emotions like a rollercoaster on steroids. Somehow, you knew this was going to be a challenge.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The next class was mathematics which you were luckily okay with but currently with the situation of having a running vibrator pleasure you inside while focusing on numbers was not a good mixture at all. You never felt so tense and frustrated when doing maths unlike now and all thanks to Donghyuck making you feel high and then leaving you dry. Sometimes he let you feel high until you were wanting to scream in middle of your class but you covered your mouth often until he dropped it to a low speed again which you calm down.
Donghyuck knew what you wanted though. He knew what you fantasise about and it intrigued him because now he knows what you hate and what you love. It was like doing things absolute the worst things and you’d love them, because it’s him. You cannot make yourself feel the hatred and the pain to do that for something like this.
You tap your pen on the desk repeatedly as you felt your pussy clutch around the vibration and the shape of the vibrator making you want to lose yourself there and then. Your stomach was breathing in harshly enough to feel your ribcage and your throat was bleeding dry wanting to let so many noises escape. You couldn’t hear anything but your beating heart. Your fingers wrap round the pen clenching it as your thighs rub in circular motion together. The buzzing vibration made you fall into excitement of pleasure that you couldn’t compare to. The speed increased with each time the class went down off and you soon were holding the desk suddenly.
The teacher saw your sudden movements and eyes you suspiciously as you look down at the test paper clearing your throat.
‘Shitshit that was close.’ You mentally screamed, your thoughts were running back to how you’re literally being treated like a sex doll for Donghyuck’s sick pleasures but here you are having the same sick pleasures because this is turning you more and more.
The idea of getting caught was certainly a factor and he knew this he could see it on your body posture you loved being observed as you are getting off in class where a whole examination test is being done. You couldn’t focus on your paper though, because you were lost in your own mind with the way the vibrator was making you feel.
The next thing you knew you felt a wet gushing raindrops down your legs like they were your tears when in reality it was coming from your soaking panties lining down your body. Your thighs were covered with your pussy juice and you came without knowing for once you felt scared and you look back at Donghyuck with a terrified expression starting to beg him with your whimpers.
“Donghyuck please can i leave?” You whisper and he looks up from his math test paper smirking as he hears you finally beg.
This is what he wanted to hear from you, a pathetic beg because he’s the one in control and you’re the one who’s dealing with the consequences.
He was about to give you an answer until the teacher in front of you slams on your desk. “Y/n I expected better from you. Keep your eyes on your test paper until everyone is finished. Do not cheat off Donghyuck.”
You slowly turn around lowly avoiding eye contact but your face was red and feverish. You couldn’t help but feel light headed because the vibrator kept on digging into your sensitive core making you squirm more and more. The teacher walks back to the desk and Donghyuck’s laughter was heard behind you.
“Tut tut tut Y/n cheating.” He trails and you clench your fists together on your lap as you saw the water dripping down on the floor underneath your chair. You whimper once more.
Donghyuck saw you go silent whimpering and he raised his eyebrows as he saw your legs shaking on the floor and your hands were trembling now due to the overt stumbling pleasuring sensation surrounding your body putting it on your back and chest. Your face was swollen with your pleasure from your own pussy aching.
And then the class bell rang. You never got up so fast ready to run out to the toilet for the same reasoning however you were stopped by two arms engulfing you and dragging you into a pair of doors you couldn’t reach until the body pulling you with him dragged you into the boy’s changing rooms where it was empty leaving only you and a specifically someone called Lee Donghyuck. The lowlife you’ve been tortured by the entire door and for once you were glad to see his face as you go on your knees shaking as you let out sudden choking moans. The vibrator got faster with Donghyuck’s thumb putting it on the maximum speed amount you couldn’t put limit on.
“Fuck please— please please Donghyuck fuck me make it stop make this pain stop.” You held your breath putting your hands on the stomach that was aching for a release finally and the remote was turned off the vibrator no longer providing you with the pleasure because he got what he wanted.
You asking him to fuck you senselessly.
He’d grab your shoulders pushing you off the ground and into the changing room showers where he pinned you on the wall where you could both fit. Putting your mouth on his down kissing you roughly he grasps your hips rubbing them rougher than before and stressing down your clotheslines we’re stripped off your body so quickly you weren’t aware of it at all. You grasp between the heavy kisses, Donghyuck swore hearing you gasping for him was the sexiest thing he could ever hear anyone do. “God you’re so fucking lewd Y/n telling me to fuck you senseless in the school where anyone can walk in on us. You’d like that to happen won’t you?” He’d grab your face away as he pressed on the vibrator inside you pushing it out off your hole and instead you felt the hard tip of his body go in.
You never wanted to come back to reality ever again because this felt like a forsaken fantasy. You’re pushed on the tile wall bare naked with your enemy someone who’s been nothing but horrible to you now pushing his hard cock inside your sloppy wet hole that’s been waiting to be stretched by him for over four hours you couldn’t believe it; it felt like years ago when you were friends and now you’re being so mean together you couldn’t even imagine what you’re doing if you were sane in your head. The way your head snuck in and so did your stomach feeling him go up and imprinting his shape deep within you where you let out trembling stutters out. “Fuckfuckfuck hyuck—! You’re in my stomach.” You wanted to scream it out but Donghyuck made sure to take his fucking time with you.
“Hyuck huh? That’s a new one darling.” He couldn’t help but find it hard to dislike. Afterall you were fucked out when saying it. It made it ten times more better.
He wanted to make you know that this will become a daily thing where he will rock your shit and leave you alone right after. This wasn’t nothing sweet and mutual. You are living your fantasy and that’s it, you’re nothing but a ragged doll for him to use you and you were willingly.
“You’re a fucking slut Y/n. You want nothing but my cock to fill your hole and stuff you until you have no fucking purpose for me. Do you want that?” He growls against your face kissing down your cheeks with so much power over you, your skin shivers against those harsh breathing and his voice was so mean you could cry. In fact you wanted to knowing how he was completely right about you.
You murmur when Donghyuck squished you in a whole different position directing you towards a doggy stile where your hands put on the tile he rocked behind strutting the hits right into you going now deeper where the shape travels to your womb and you choke but clenching your eyes in the process. You never expected him to be so long and girthy, he was thick and all departments you were shaking and trembling in the middle of his body weight crushing you with how tough he was treating you. There was nothing single. Not a single moment where he spared you from his dangerous hold over you.
At the moment when he lost himself nearly he was so close to coming in you and you were here dripping in the shower with sweat and panting ramming inside your hole while your ass was perking up in the air for him to spank and grip. He squeezed your hips forward until your face was roughly rammed on the tile as you begin to wail out your moans. Your arms gave up on you and now your entire legs were tired from the excruciating exhaustion from being pleased for hours beforehand.
“That’s right cry for me you stupid whore. You’re crying because my dick feels so good aren’t you?” You wished you could disagree with him but you can’t. You sniff out croaking in broken sentences denting your voice. “It feels so good please please Hyuck I want you to come inside me.” His eyes darken going smaller hearing you and he pushed your head down on the tile smirking.
“Begging me to fill your little hole up yeah? Since you’re asking like a good whore you are, I will.” It absolutely irks your mind how he can sound so attractive but still be completely ruthless to you.
And he did exactly that leaving you down when he was done with you covering your walls full off his load and painting everything in you white. Donghyuck left you on the floor in the shower with his liquid coming out of your pussy down your thighs he smirks facing you as he was doing the zipper on the trousers and you dazed looking at him in the corner.
He whistles leaning down and crouching to your eye level seeing how you’re out of it still. You couldn’t focus on anything but him and the comforting silence of your beating heart.
“You still like a Lowlife like me?” He trails asking you with a deadly smile that knew you would say yes.
You should be hating him because god knows he’s terrible human being on the face of earth. He’s the biggest scum you could meet.
But you know you will always love a lowlife like Lee Donghyuck.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting my work thank youu!! Please reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.
#nct fanfiction#nct smut#nct x reader#nct u scenarios#nct hard hours#nct series#nct fic#nct recs#nct haechan smut#haechan smut#nct haechan#haechan scenarios#haechan imagines#haechan headers#haechan fanfiction#haechan drabbles#nct u moodboard#nct u smut#nct 127 smut#haechan hard hours#haechan hard thoughts#nct dream smut#nct dream hard thoughts#nct dream fanfic#haechan fic#nct 127 fanfic#lee haechan#nct fic recs#nct fluff#nct moodboard
993 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Girl Who Cried Wolf- V
Ethan Landry x Reader
Tainted Love- Chapters
~Warnings~
Rape/Non-con, Loss of Virginity, Cock Warming, Dacryphilia, Knifeplay, Forced Orgasms, Corruption, Murder, Blood, Nightmares, Stalking, Underage Drinking, Attempted assault, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forced Relationship, Isolation, Fingering
A/N: THE WAIT IS OVER IM BACKKK!!!
I hope y'all enjoy. I missed writing so muchhh omfg
You were walking to the dining hall, alone. You would've asked Tia to go with you but she was at the library studying for her exam. You particularly didn't want to bother her since it was just a few blocks away.
Plus you just wanted to be alone. To have a moment to yourself. You needed to think. It had been a month after Ethan was stabbed… since Rylan was murdered. It had been a few days since Tia told you about the break-in and ever since then you've been distant with Ethan.
It made you feel like a terrible friend because in a way you were. Every time you thought about Ethan you thought about how he was stabbed, how he dragged his body, how he could barely breathe.
And yet… you were still distant with Ethan. It came from a place of fear. If you could push him away maybe he would be safe… but if he did do those things Tia said he might’ve done, then that's one less person you would have to worry about Ghostface.
The thought of that being true had your mind feeling like it was going to shatter. On one hand, you couldn't see Ethan doing the things Tia told you. But on the other hand, did you really know Ethan?
You felt as though you didn't know any of them. You knew quirks about Tia that she didn't even know because of the close proximity and Ethan stayed over every other night and being that close to someone is going to make you think you know them.
Your mind was so scrambled about it and honestly, you felt like you were going crazy. It all confused you. It confused you to the point you needed to walk alone to try to clear your head.
Maybe it was time to finally see a therapist. You had thought about when Sam started going. You knew then that you should've gone too but when Tara told you she wasn't doing it. You somehow believe you didn't need it either. You thought you just needed to move across the country to forget it all ever happened. To pretend it all never happened.
You huffed and kicked a rock. You decided then to stop thinking or at least try to. You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself by listening to the sounds around you.
Then it was disrupted by the sound of a person walking behind you. Their footsteps were so heavy, so harsh on the pavement. You couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows at how loud they were being. You kept walking until you heard their pace pick up. That made your stomach drop and your blood run cold. You couldn’t stop yourself when you decided to take a glance. You didn't even have a chance to think before your body instinctively started to run on its own.
The ghost mask was the first thing you saw and you knew then that you were going to die.
This was how it was going to end with you alone with no one. You thought about Amber and how she told you that it would end like that. You swore her laughs sang in the air, mocking you because you were going to die.
The street lights did nothing to light up your path. The dim lighting did nothing to help you. All you had to do was make it to the dining hall. When you got there you could be safe. You could call Chad to come and walk back with you, that was if you could make it to the dining hall in one piece.
Your chest felt like it was going to explode. Your heart was in your stomach. Your body couldn't stop shaking. You had to get to the dining hall. You needed to get to the dining hall. What felt like a short walk was now a long deserted road that led to nowhere.
The only thing on your mind was surviving. Your ears were ringing from the heavy sounds of Ghostface’s steps. You begged a higher power to let you live. You didn't want to die, not yet. You had finally got out of Woodsboro. Your life was just beginning before Ghostface’s appearance.
You collided with something causing the air from your lungs to rip out of you. Whatever it was had you wrapped around them. You screamed and tried your best to pull them off of you.
“Y/n? Y/n! It's me! It's me,” the person said as they held your face.
You opened your eyes to find Ethan. You couldn't have been more grateful as you cried into his chest.
“What's wrong?? Why were you running?” He asked as he stared at the sidewalk.
“They… the- Ghostface they it- I I thought I was going to die,” you cried in his arms. “I was going to die.”
“No no, I'm here. You're safe. There's no one here, Y/n. No one is here,” he said, trying his best to soothe you.
You turned around and saw that no one was there.
Had you imagined it..? No. You couldn't have. It felt too real. The sounds. Ghostface’s heavy footsteps. There was no way.
You cried harder in his arms. Were you going crazy? Was your mind so messed up from last year that it configured Ghostface chasing you?
You didn't want to believe it. You couldn't because it was real. It was real.
“It's okay… I'm here now, Princess,” his voice was above a whisper. His hands did all they could to soothe you as they petted over your hair.
Ethan was always the one to save you. It made you feel awful because he had to deal with you. It was settled then that you were finally going to go see a therapist. You knew that the school had services for students so you could try to start there.
. . .
Ethan walked you to the dining hall and back to your dorms. You knew it was common decency but you were still very grateful. You felt like people would see you as crazy if they saw how you acted when you thought you saw Ghostface.
You hugged Ethan as you stopped at your door, “Thank you again for walking with me.”
“You don't need to thank me,” he said with a smile. He leaned on the wall next to your door. “I'm always here for you… you know that right?”
You nodded and smiled back.
He frowned a bit and touched your cheek, “Try to get some sleep, okay?”
“Of course,” you said, leaning into his touch. Only then did he smile a big toothy grin.
When he turned his back to you it made you think. It was then you unlocked your door and Ethan was almost to his room that you called out to him. He turned around and tilted his head.
“Can… Can I stay over tonight?” You asked. You didn't know why you asked but it came out of your mouth.
He smiled and nodded as he waited for you to walk to his room with him. You were nervous. You've been into his room a dozen times before but now… you were nervous.
Your hands were fidgeting and you couldn't calm down your heart rate. You felt like tonight was a bit different from other nights and your gut was always right.
Ethan opened the door to let you in first as he followed behind you.
“Do you need any refreshments?” It sounded so goofy coming out of his mouth that you only laughed and nodded.
“Water, please.”
His eyes felt like they were looking at you differently too. It's like they saw you as more than a weak pitiful creature. You loved Sam, Tara, and everyone from the friend group but they saw you as a baby that needed to be coddled. That needed to be shielded. Ethan's gaze now felt like they wanted to see more than a baby deer who'd been hurt.
“So… where Chad?” You quietly asked as he handed you a water bottle.
“He is staying over at Tara’s,” he chuckled.
You giggled at that which had you rolling your eyes at yourself for giggling. It was kinda embarrassing how you were feeling with this boy next to you.
“I need to go to the bathroom but you can sit in my room and wait,” he said.
“Oh okay…”
He opened his door and you walked in smiling at him before sitting on his bed. You felt awkward so you sat on the main edge. You stared at his new poster. It was the movie poster for Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2. He had a knack for watching any scary movie. It seemed like nothing could gross him out. For you, however, you could never stomach them especially after...
He walked into the dimly lit room and sat on his bed next to you. You stared at the ground before looking at him. His eyes were already on yours.
“Do you want to watch a-”
It was a shock to you at first. Before you could even pull out a sentence his lips were on yours. You didn't know how to react, so you just sat there and waited. When he pulled back his head tilted at you.
You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know how to react… Your first kiss was with Ethan. In his dorm room. After you might've had a psychosis episode. It felt weird because you didn't even think that he liked you let alone kiss you.
“Was that okay?” He asked.
You didn't know what to say so you just nodded. He smiled before leaning in again but this time you dodged his lips.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing… I just never kissed anyone before,” you quietly said. You didn't know why you weren't leaving or why you said what you said because truly you weren't comfortable with kissing him. Not now. Not after everything that has happened.
“That's okay. We can teach each other,” he expressed with a smile.
And to that, you only nodded. Then his lips were awkwardly on you again. You had guessed you were his first kiss too. You felt as though you couldn't feel anything but his lips on you. You tried to follow his lead but it felt too forced, too hard on your lips.
Your mind became blank and when you came back you were on your back. Your pants were off and he was slowly pulling off your underwear. He was telling you how pretty you looked. How you wouldn't regret this because “he found things on the internet.”
You didn't want to go any further but you couldn't even bring yourself to move. When his tongue moved against your clit you clutched the sheets below you. You sighed as he kept licking and sucking on it.
It was okay, right? Because you were enjoying it but you didn't even permit him, so was it okay?
You didn't want an answer to that question. So you let it go to the back of your mind.
You felt his hands keep your thighs open. He was strong which surprised you and it reminded you that he could truly do anything to you.
When his fingers started to work their way into your entrance. You felt yourself tug at his hair and whine from the intrusion.
“Ethan…” you cried softly. “Please.”
You knew then that he might've thought it was a plea for more rather than a cry to stop. His fingers were thicker and longer than yours and hit spots he probably didn't know were a part of a woman. It hurt you but at the same time, the pain felt good.
When he started to go faster you couldn't control your pants, your pleas. You couldn't stop your hips from moving back and forth against his face. You let go of his hair to then grab onto a pillow to muffle your noises. You were terrified of the rooms around you hearing your cries.
You press the pillow against your face moaning into it. It was soaked with tears and spit but you didn't care. You just needed your noises to be muted. Then he pushed you to your edge causing a loud cry to leave your lips. You had hoped that the pillow blocked out the noise enough.
You couldn't open your eyes as you removed the pillow. They were hurting from how hard you squeezed them shut but when you finally found the strength to open them. You looked at Ethan who was gazing at you with a look you couldn't quite place.
He was smiling. His lips were glistening and his cheeks were red enough that you could see them in the dim lighting. He moved up next to you to hold your face in his hands.
“I hope you know how beautiful you look right now, princess,” he whispered into your lips.
You cringed at the pet name now. You cringed when he pressed his lips on yours. The only time you didn't cringe was when he pulled back to lay his head down. You felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist pulling you close to him.
It felt like hours before his breathing slowed and his grip slightly loosened off of you. You felt like you could breathe again. You pushed him off of you. You couldn't think clearly with him wrapped around you.
You felt sick. Like you were going to throw up at any moment but nothing ever came out. Ethan took many of your firsts tonight without permission… but you never said no. It made you feel like you were the one in the wrong because you only nodded and went along with it.
You didn't understand why he thought tonight would be the night. You didn't understand why you nodded your head. You didn't understand why you were still in his room in the first place. Overall you just wanted to forget tonight ever happened. You closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off.
You could try and escape into your dreams but even then you would be in a nightmare.
. . .
He was gone when you woke up. You knew that because the door was open and the whole dorm was quiet. You still felt like a shell. you couldn't understand what had happened… and why it happened.
You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stared at the movie poster again. It was then you couldn't control it and ran to throw up. You thankfully made it to the bathroom in time. Everything that was in you the night before was out of your stomach before you had a chance to think.
And to be honest, you didn't want to think about it. You picked yourself up and made sure to clean up. You didn't want Tia to see you like this especially when she was the one that even warned you.
Maybe you should tell her? Would it be a good idea to? You just needed to see her and maybe then you would tell her what happened. So you left for your room. You had remembered the night before you left it unlocked. Tia was going to rip you a new one for that one. You knew for sure.
But as soon as you opened the door you were greeted with blood.
All over the floor… Tia’s door was opened and her body was on the ground. The scream that flew out of your mouth. The way you ran to her. Your body was all on autopilot. You held Tia to your body as your next-door neighbors alerted your RA. You rocked back and forth as you stared at Tia’s lifeless eyes staring back at you.
“Wake up… please. Please wake up,” you cried. You were trying to feel a pulse and yet there was nothing.
It was all a blur as they took her away from you and as they took you to the hospital.
It was a nightmare. It was all a nightmare that you didn't wake up from yet.
But when you opened your eyes and saw the same white sterile walls you could never seem to leave.
You laughed at yourself that you were foolish enough to think leaving Woodsboro would mean you could escape that same nightmare.
Previous Chapter?
Next Chapter?
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
Immediate Writer's Block
Had a comment on another post where I thought I'd probably need more space than the notes in which to respond, so:
constant-state-of-self-discovery Oh I get the envy I feel it right now how the fuck do you manage to write without impassable writers block after 5-9 sentences because I haven't fucking figured it out lol
I do have some advice on this!
I think most writers get blocked from time to time, it's normal and my general strategy is just to wait it out, but if you're frequently blocked after only writing a very little bit, I think the problem is one of two things: either you don't know what you want to achieve with the scene you're writing, or you don't know what should happen next within the scene to achieve that goal. If you frame "I'm blocked" as "I don't have an answer I need" then often you move from just sitting there, sweating and staring at a blank page, to thinking productively about how you're going to get where you're going. It's the difference between not knowing an answer and not knowing an answer but knowing where to look for it.
An invaluable piece of advice for this, which I think I picked up from someone who got it off a National Novel Writing Month messageboard, is "When in doubt, ninjas attack." It's not meant to be literal, you don't need to have ninjas or fight scenes just because you don't know what to do, but it helps to get the creativity flowing again. If you don't know what should happen next, or you know but you're having trouble actually writing the scene, it can be very helpful to induce a moment of uncertainty or surprise -- to have a metaphorical ninja attack. One time I did this literally -- the POV character was just on the road somewhere and I didn't know how to get them from a pastoral country road to their actual destination in an interesting way, so I had them get attacked by highway bandits and have to fight them off, which also allowed me to demonstrate that the character had significant unarmed combat skills. But it can also just be like, two characters who are having a boring conversation can be interrupted by a third person, even just a stranger asking for directions, or there can be, IDK, an explosion, or something goes missing, or etc.
Sometimes it also helps to leave it alone but keep it in your mind and go do something else -- listen to a podcast, take a walk, read a book, not because those things are distracting but because all our inputs eventually feed into our brain and come out as reactions. If you're thinking about your book while you're wandering around a park, something you see in the park might have an impact on it. If you've got YOUR story in mind while reading someone else's, you might be more inclined to look at what they're saying and see what you think of it, how it might play into your work.
And honestly, sometimes you just gotta go past it. I'm working on the next Shivadh novel right now and it opens basically with Simon the chef getting into a spat with his love-interest-to-be over some cheese. He want the cheese, she won't sell him the cheese, so they get off to a very contentious start. But I suck at writing conflict especially when it's basically "A character I like is being pompous and another character I want people to find likable is being stubborn and somewhat unpleasant". I've been stalled on it for a while. But I know where the scene ends up, like I do know what the goal is, so I just...skipped it and went on to writing a scene I like better, where they meet a second time and actually discover each others' identity and that they're about to be forced into the grownup equivalent of a school project. Once I've gotten dug deeper into the story I'll come back and write it, and by then I'll have the benefit of knowing the love interest a bit better.
So yeah -- I think a lot of breaking a writer's block, especially when you don't need rest but are just stumped about what to do, is to twist and look at it from another angle. It's not that you don't know what to write, or don't want to write what you know you have to -- it's that you don't have the correct answer to a question, or you need to leave that part alone to ferment and come back to it later. At least, for me.
129 notes
·
View notes
Text
That's My Wife
Star and Stripe X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.1k+
"You have everything?" I asked Cassie as she was getting ready for the celebration.
"I believe I do," she said.
"I don't know why they're doing this," I chuckled, shaking my head.
"A parade isn't too bad," she said.
"I get that, but it's not like you haven't taken down most of the bad guys here."
"Well that, and also it's to commemorate those we have lost," she said.
"That is true. I just know they're going to make it a big deal."
"The people there are going to make a big deal about it because I'm there. I honestly don't want to be," she let out a sigh. "I just want to sit with you in the crowd and watch the parade go by."
"I know. But I will be out there cheering you on," I smiled, a thought popping into my head.
A few friends of mine have done this prank on their significant other. It was a harmless prank, but it was basically they call their significant other either their husband or their wife to someone else. And their significant other is thrown off by it. I've been wanting to try this out on Cassie, but I haven't found the right time. Maybe this parade isn't the best time since the media would be all over us, considering that they hardly know about us being together. Not even my friends know about our relationship. But maybe with all the commotion, no one would hear me beside her.
"I've gotta run, I'll see you out there. I'll be looking for you," she said and pecked my lips.
"See you out there, Cass. I love you."
"I love you, too," she opened the apartment door and closed it behind her.
Once I had finished getting ready, I left the apartment and my friends were waiting for me with their significant others. Of course I felt left out whenever we'd go out since I couldn't bring Cassie with me. But Cassie didn't want anything bad happening to me if others knew, but I could trust my friends with that information. We walked down a few blocks since the parade was being held close by where we lived.
"We saw Star and Stripe on our way here!" my friend smiled at me, practically bouncing on her feet.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yeah. I had no idea she was going to be in the parade."
"It's the talk of the country," her significant other said. "Why wouldn't they have her there?"
"Maybe to ensure no one attacks," my other friend said.
"Or they're trying to draw out a villain that's been hard to track right now."
"Either way, it's always nice to see Star and Stripe. She's always active with the community," I said. "As much as she can be."
"Since when do you know about that?" the first friend asked, poking my arm.
"I just read up on all the things she has done."
"I sense a fangirl," the second friend said.
"So what if I'm a fangirl of her?" I chuckled. "I'll be her biggest fan yet."
I technically was, since I literally knew everything about her since she shares a lot with me. Even when she doesn't, I still know what is going on with her. We reached one of the roads of where the parade was going to be taking place today. It was more on the back end of the parade, which I didn't mind. That just meant Cassie could come home earlier than if this was the beginning section.
"We have some time to kill," the first friend said.
"And there's not many people here," said their significant other.
"We get some nice seats then!" the second friend said.
"Front row, too," I said, leaning against the road barrier they had set up the night before.
As we were waiting, more and more people started to show up. They were watching the live stream of the parade since they were unable to head towards the beginning. We were watching it on my phone and my friends were always pointing out Cassie. I want to say they knew, but I didn't want to ask. Right in the middle of the live stream, I get a text notification from Cassie. My heart dropped as my friends looked at the name. I had put her in as Cass with a little heart emoji next to her name.
"Who is Cass?" the first friend asked.
"N-No one," I swiped up on the notification, making it disappear.
"Hey, look, they're rounding the corner!" a watcher nearby yelled.
My friends turned to look to find they were indeed rounding the corner. I turned off the live stream and went to see what Cassie had texted me.
"I used New Order so I am able to hear what you say. I'll see you soon. ;)"
I smiled and texted her back.
"See you soon."
"There she is! Star!" the crowd cheered as the car she was in passed by. She was in a convertible with Ethan driving her. She sat on the back seats and were waving to the people.
Since there was a lot of commotion and no one could really hear me, or they weren't paying attention, I locked eyes with her and smiled.
"That's my wife right there!" I said loud enough to if someone was listening, they would hear me.
Her face dropped, a shocked expression came across before blush crawled onto her face. She smiled warmly at me, blowing a kiss in my general direction before winking. That got the crowd going. After the parade had ended, my friends and I headed back to my apartment.
"Did you see what happened to Star?" one of them asked.
"What happened?" I asked, turning to face them.
"Her expression changed. Maybe someone complimented her when she was driving by or something," another said.
"It's the talk of the media right now. It's going viral," said a third.
They handed their phone around. It was true. Someone had caught it on camera and they were asking what just happened. I smiled to myself, knowing it was I who caused that. Maybe it wasn't for the best, but I know Cassie enjoyed it. I waved goodbye to them and headed inside and found Cassie was already back before I was.
"Cass?"
She came up behind me and picked me up, sweeping me off my feet.
"Cassie!" I squealed, which turned into laughter as I pressed my forehead against hers, a hand resting on her cheek while the other was on her shoulder.
"Hey, love," she smiled.
"You looked great out there," I said, caressing her cheek.
"I heard what you said."
"I know. Why do you think I said it?" I giggled.
"One day, Y/N," she said, pressing a quick peck to my lips. "One day it will happen and you can finally say that Star and Stripe is yours and no one else's."
I smiled, "So we'll finally come out?"
"If you're ok with that. I don't think we need to hide anymore. I don't want to."
I nodded my head, "Besides, I want to show off my wife to my friends."
She shuddered slightly, "I'm totally marrying you now."
I chuckled as we headed towards the bedroom. I had an inkling of an idea of what was going to happen next.
#star and stripe x reader#star and stripe#cathleen bate x reader#cathleen bate#my hero academia#mha#boku no hero academia
97 notes
·
View notes
Note
it’s so good to have you back! i have an idea for a potential future blair fic. what if blair comes down with a nasty stomach virus compounded with a migraine while on a road trip to somewhere important with dakota? maybe she thinks it’s just a migraine and then well.. shit gets real *no pun intended* haha. it doesn’t have to be a road trip, if that doesn’t inspire anything for you, but maybe somewhere where she can’t get away that easily? no worries if you aren’t interested and if you are, take your time! 😊
Thanks for the no pressure! It helped a lot as I try to get back into this. I wasn't sure if the "pun" meant no scat lol, so there's just emeto. I hope it's okay...don't know how I feel about it. Maybe typos maybe not...but probably typos.
-------------
Blair thought her headache would fade once they left her parents’ house. Seeing her extended family for Easter was always a joy, but she could do without the noise from the little ones. At first, the squealing and giggling upon finding an Easter egg was cute. Inevitably, the happy laughs turned into fits of crying and tantrums when the celebration was over. Though the children weren’t happy to be leaving, Blair had to admit she was looking forward to a silent car ride home with Dakota.
Two hours into the four-hour drive, and her headache had morphed into a migraine. She succumbed to the pain a while ago by leaning the passenger seat back as far as it would go. Her sweater lay over her eyes to block out the daylight. She wrapped her arms together in an attempt to sooth herself, but it was Dakota’s soft voice that did most of the work.
“Is it just as bad?” he asked, brushing a hand over her knee. In times of crisis like this, Blair liked to kick off her shoes and sit cross legged. Maybe if she made herself smaller, the pain would shrink as well.
But no, the pain pushed against the walls of her body. Hey eyes threatened to explode from the pressure; her belly whined to the beat of the blood pumping in her ears. Misery loved company, so her head seemed to have invited her stomach to join the party.
“It’s getting worse,” she mumbled and shifted uncomfortably in the small space. The bumpy ride did nothing to ease her aches. Every bounce and turn jostled her like Jello. She imagined her brain jiggling against her skull in time with her roiling tummy. “Can you go slower?”
“Gosh, babe, if I drive any slower, we might make it home by Christmas.” Dakota’s eyes squinted in the sunlight. Keeping his eyes on the road hardly mattered when they were going 40 in an 80, and there were no other cars along the country road. He set the cruise control to the snail-like pace so that he could give his fiancée more of his attention. “If I hold out my arm like this, you can lean against me.”
Blair just groaned and sat up straight in the seat. The sweater fell from her face, making her wince at the harsh light. At the same time, the car rolled in and out of a pothole. Her stomach rose in her throat. “Really? You couldn’t have gone around that?” Her tone was as acidic as the liquid that burned her esophagus.
“I’m doing my best, Bee.” Dakota took his hand off her leg. “I know you don’t feel well, but don’t get mad at me just ‘cause I’m the only one here.”
That hurt. Not as much as the sword through her head, but it stung nonetheless. “I’m sorry,” she said, miserably wrapping her arms around her midriff. “I just feel sick to my stomach, and this bumpy ass road is not helping.”
Dakota opened his mouth to provide comfort, but Blair was not finished.
“And the sun is so fucking bright, and what is that horrible smell? It’s like burning rubber.” Blair pouted. “Why does everything in the universe hate me?”
Dakota gave her a lopsided smile. “Well, I’m in the universe and I don’t hate you.”
Blair scoffed and cracked a small grin. “Stop being adorable. I’m dying here.” She had to admit, his joke allowed some tension to ease off her shoulders. She wasn’t alone and everything wasn’t terrible. There were many things that were terrible, but her partner was not one of them. “…Thank you.”
“Aw, you know I just want you to feel better.” Dakota reached his hand out to rub her belly. “I’m sorry this migraine came at such a bad time. It’s making you feel sick?”
She nodded. “The nausea is bad this time. Usually I can ignore it.”
Dakota must have let the Easter bunny take the wheel while he scanned her face. “You do look very pale. Are you going to throw up, you think?”
She shook her head, then immediately regretted the decision. “I hope not. I’ll try to fall back to sleep so that doesn’t happen.”
Ironically, it was the nausea that kept her from sleeping. The pain in her head swelled with her bloated belly. All that chocolate coated her insides in a thick layer of gooey slime. When she began to burp, the taste of Terry’s chocolate orange made her gag.
Blair was alert now. With wide eyes, she clamped a hand over mouth. She forced down two more burps or else she knew Dakota’s car would be ruined in seconds. “Babe—” she began, feeling a tightness in her throat that pinched her words “—Pull over. I need to be sick.”
Without hesitation or issue, Dakota brought the car to a stop. "Wow sleep did not happen, eh?"
What a stupid time to ask a question.
Blair threw the door open with just enough time to lean over and burp wetly over the ground. She gagged, bringing up a small wave of vomit. It was mostly coffee from the afternoon. The bitter flavour clung to her tongue, but it would not stick around for long because there was much in her stomach to get up.
"I'm right here," Dakota said with a hand on her back. "You're okay." Blair leaned further out of the car with the next heave, nearly falling onto the grass. He caught her arm. "Oh, maybe you're not. Hold on, I'm coming around."
He turned off the car and jogged to the other side. Luckily there were no cars with them on the road. If Blair wanted privacy, she picked the right place to lose her lunch.
Her lunch was fertilizing the grass. Hopefully the open field would thrive on half digested chocolate, coffee, and cubes of cheese that were no longer in the shape of cubes.
She coughed and burped in between waves. "Ugh, Kota, help..." She reached out for him and allowed him to help her out of the car. They staggered like drunken lovers until their knees met the earth.
"I got you." Dakota held onto her shoulder and pulled her hair away from her face. "You're doing good."
"...my head..."
"I know." Dakota kissed her forehead. His lips met unexpectedly warm skin
"...my tummy..."
"I know." Dakota did not lean down to kiss her tummy because the organ chose that moment to convulse again. He heard a gurgling sound in Blair's throat before she pitched forward and heaved a mostly-liquid bout of sick onto the ground. Dakota rubbed her back. "Oh my Bee."
Blair fed the flowers one more time, shedding tears from the force of each retch. The vomiting released pressure from her head but did nothing to ease her belly; it only reinforced the ache that dwelled in her gut.
Dakota's lips still tingled from the heat of the kiss. He knew then that he had to get her home fast. They would need to go much faster than they had been, but at least a bed would be waiting. Blair couldn't suffer like this while on the road.
The universe agreed that Blair should not be in the car.
When Dakota went to start the car again, the engine gave a mighty good try, but failed. Dakota swore under his breath and spared a glance at Blair who still sat in front of a puddle of sick in the grass.
"No, please, no." He took the key out and tried again. "Come, on come on."
The engine tried, and tried, and...nothing. It was just as fatigued and sick as his girl. He called the doctor for only one of the patients.
Defeated, Dakota returned to Blair's side. By the looks of it, she hadn't thrown up again. He sat down next to her with a dejected sigh. "I have bad news."
"I heard."
They both sighed and sat unmoving on the grass. Blair's gaze was lost in her thoughts or maybe her pain. Dakota's gaze never left her. Her red cheeks, grey lips, and dark eyes worried him. He reached out silently with the back of his hand to touch her forehead.
Blair looked up at him with glassy eyes. "More bad news?"
"Yeah." He scooted closer to her and kissed the side of her head. "Remember when I got an infection while camping and got a really bad fever?" Her expression told him that she remembered, though not fondly. "This might be something like that, at least until the tow truck arrives."
"I knew the migraine was different this time. I just don't understand where this bug came from."
"You were around children all weekend. What do you expect?"
• • •
Blair slept in the backseat of the car while Dakota kept watch. She put her head in his lap and tried to ignore the gurgling in her tummy. Again, Dakota came to the rescue and gently rubbed the warm skin of her belly.
He wasn't sure how long he traced circles and lines over her stomach, but it was long enough for the sun to begin setting. He made a game out of spelling different words with his fingertips. In invisible ink, he wrote words like 'love' and 'Blair' and 'dildo'.
Occasional gurgles emanated from her belly. Dakota worried that Blair would bolt upright and tell him to pull over as if the day would repeat itself. But she stayed asleep. Her expression softened in her slumber.
Amazingly, she only woke up when Dakota moved to greet the tow truck driver. With the plan settled, he returned to the car.
"Honey." Dakota shook her awake. "We're going home now."
By the time Blair came to her senses, the car was ready to be hitched to the truck.
This was bad. Blair paced along the road, bitting her nails. She watched the car be lifted partially off its wheels. This was very bad. The driver spoke to Dakota and then went into the truck. Very very bad.
Sleep was good, but her belly did not like being awake. Suddenly the nausea came rushing back. The headache was gone, but the virus had nowhere near run its course.
"Babe, you ready?" Dakota called. She did not move. He came closer. "Honey, are you alright?"
With tears in her eyes, she shook her head. "I'm going to throw up in the car. I can't. I feel really sick again."
"Okay, okay, no worries." Dakota tried to calm her down. "I'll explain the situation to the driver and he'll understand."
Something wet and horrid squirmed in Blair's stomach; it was the dread of driving in a gross truck while feeling like this. But it was also the very real bug that filled her throat with nausea.
"Please don't make me do this, Kota." She covered her mouth to hide a wet burp, but she could not keep the moan from escaping. "I don't feel good."
She was losing colour by the second. Dakota felt like he was approaching a timid animal. "Okay, we can wait. It's fine."
"I don't like this. I don't wanna--urp--throw up again." She paced with her hand glued tightly to her mouth. Her legs shook and her back spasmed with the need to lurch forward. She felt the gag rising from the pit of her belly.
Dakota touched her arm. "Baby, just let yourself be sick. The man can wait. And if you need to throw up in the truck, just do it. I'll tip him well."
She shook her head.
"I'm right here. Nothing bad is going to happen." He started to gather her hair in his hand. "That's it. Lean over. I've got you." She moved her hand away and retched emptily. It was like her belly was shy as well. "Let it happen, Bee."
Maybe it was Dakota's hand on her back or the fact that she wanted this day to be over, but Blair gave in to her need. She relaxed her muscles just long enough for them to squeeze tight once more when the sick came rushing out of her mouth.
"Good job," Dakota said. "Five stars. Encore."
Blair gave an encore, not that she could help it. She would not have given it five stars.
In the end, Dakota's encouragements are what saved the day. She felt secure enough in her tummy to get in the tow truck. Dakota did indeed explain the situation just in case, but it was not needed. Nor was the bag needed. Thank God. The truck had three seats in the front. Blair hid herself behind Dakota who took the middle. It was a long drive, but a clean one.
"I'm sorry this happened, Blair," Dakota said softly when they were five minutes from their house. "How are you feeling, now?"
"Better maybe." She squeezed his arm. "Thanks for being the one thing in the universe that is right."
#emeto#emetophilia#sickfic#my ocs#vomiting#emetophile#emeto fiction#emeto fic#vomit kink#emetophiliac#Dakota#Blair#migraine#migraine fic#stomach bug#stomach flu#stomachache#carsick#puke with plot :)#puke without plot#puking fic#puke fic#puke kink#nausea
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Solitary Man: Final Part
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Summary: You're feeling more like yourself for the first time in forever. You're not going to let anything spoil your good mood.
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Season Five Masterlist
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.
x
Nancy's abduction hit the news pretty quickly. You just hope the unsub doesn't see it and dump Nancy's body out of fear. Penelope has been all over the HSK database and connected four more victims to the unsub. That brings his count to ten. If your team can figure out why he's choosing his victims, you'll find him easily.
After bringing Courtney to the police station, your team works on putting every victim's name and picture on the bulletin board. He started killing months before you thought he started. His first victim was a woman named Erika Joy from Lexington, South Carolina. She disappeared from a truck stop. According to her rap sheet, she did everyone she could for a living--a lot lizard. The other victims were waitresses, gas station employees, and even a female trucker. The only one who was married is Nancy even though she is recently a widow.
Nancy has been given the most amount of time in the news than the other women. She doesn't fit the unsub's MO. He had to have a reason for taking someone so far from the spectrum of the other victims.
"He had to have walked right by that minivan. Why didn't he take Courtney?" Emily asks.
"Maybe she's too young."
"She's closer to the victims' ages than her mother. That parking lot was deserted. He could have taken Courtney and nobody would have seen a thing. Instead, he walks past her."
"That's not who he wants. He watched Nancy. He followed her because he wanted her."
"So much so that he left Courtney as a witness? What could be that important?"
"You have your thinking face on," Derek says to you. "What's your theory?"
"What if he took Nancy because she is a mother? When I saw Tanya's body on the side of the road, she was in the fetal position. She looked like she was sleeping. That's exactly how a parent would care for their child. The other victims weren't mothers, Nancy is. Maybe this unsub is looking for someone to be a mother for a child, maybe his own?"
"It's a good theory. Tell that to Hotch."
You're about to when you notice Hotch and Rossi walk into the room.
"I heard," Hotch says. "It's good to have you back."
You can't help but smile at the small accomplishment.
"Nancy's been missing over twelve hours," JJ informs the team. "If he jumped on the I-40 before we got the police blocks out, he could be three states over by now."
"We don't think he has time for that. He's courting these women. He needs them in Edgewood."
"There are over eight hundred truckers on this list," Hotch sighs and looks at the list Penelope sent over. "We have to get Garcia to run background on all of them."
"Listen, I've already given you a list of all the trucker stops that we've checked in town," the sheriff says.
"We're gonna need to check them again."
Derek and Rossi head out to a truck stop to ask about truckers to try and narrow down the list, and they manage to get the manifest of the truckers who visited the stop. They come up with seventy-six truckers who are independent with Penelope's help. If this man is killing women and driving cross country with them, he has to be independent.
"Alright, so let's go over this again," Derek says after he and Rossi return. "This offender is preferential to young women mid to late twenties. He takes his time watching them. He makes sure there are no witnesses. He kills them twelve to twenty-four hours after abduction."
"Only now that timeframe's getting shorter."
"Then he comes home to Edgewood where he's home and he feels safe. There's no rape involved. So, is it the companionship he's after?"
"I really think he's looking for someone who will mother a child," you say. "Whether or not that's his own, I don't know."
"How do you figure?" JJ asks.
"Based on the way he positions the bodies once he dumps them. If he's not looking for a mom, he's definitely looking for a wife. He starts out with easy targets, then he moves on to women who could actually fill the role--sweet, outgoing, and warm."
"No, I think you're on the right track of it being a mother," Hotch says. "If he's got a kid of his own, that would explain what keeps him coming back to Edgewood. It would explain why he walks past Courtney to get to Nancy. Just by watching he knows she's a mother. She's already qualified to pass any test." He dials Penelope on the desk phone. "Garcia, I want you to narrow down the own authority trucker list and tell me which ones have been through a divorce or a custody battle recently."
"The custody fight would be a stressor. Limit your searches to months prior to the first murder," Rossi asks.
"Got it. Thanks."
"He might be sick. Maybe that's why he's trying so hard to find a mom for his child. He doesn't want her alone," you say.
"Cross-reference for men who have medical problems."
"Sure."
When the news of another body comes through, Courtney is in tears thinking it's her mother. After Rossi checks and confirms it's not Nancy, Courtney breaks down in tears this time, in relief. You're in the conference room with Hotch, Derek, and Spencer but looking at Courtney with Emily. You want to cry alongside Courtney not because you have unspoken trauma but because you feel and recognize her pain. The realization that you're not using her fear to fuel your own makes you want to cry. Are you finally free from prison?
"Hey, baby girl, talk to me," Derek says when Penelope calls.
"Of your seventy-six independent truckers, I have twenty-eight who are currently involved in custody cases."
"How many of those cases are still open?"
"Eight. Not the most relationship-friendly job, trucking."
"Look for instances where the mother died. A guy like this wouldn't tear a child away from his own mother."
"Okay, Caroline Hatchett died in a house fire, leaving behind seven-year-old daughter Jody and husband Wade Hatchett. Wade lost his home, his wife, and custody of his daughter when the courts deemed him unfit. He's still contesting the case."
"Why was he deemed unfit?" you ask.
"Double whammy... His job kept him away for weeks at a time, and he didn't have any other family to help him watch his daughter. It looks like he bent over backward trying to make it work, but she missed a lot of school, and he was charged with neglect of a minor."
"Do you have an address?"
"There is none. He's had a PO box for over a year."
"What about the daughter?"
"Jody currently resides in foster care. I'm sending you the file now."
Wade didn't bother posing the most recent victim and it was more brutal than the other ones which means it's more personal. Her name is Lynn Clemons, the foster mother of Jody Hatchett. She's in the process of being adopted so he must have run out of time if he killed her foster parent.
If you're going to get Wade, you have to get to Jody before he does. Your team heads over there just as she gets home from school.
"Hey, Jody," you smile.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Y/N."
"Where's Mrs. Clemons?"
"I'll tell you inside, okay? Come on." You bring her inside where the rest of your team is waiting for her. "It's okay, we're here to help."
"What's going on?"
"We're helping the police, and we're trying to find your dad. Do you know where he is?"
"No."
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you walk to the window facing the front yard. You pull back the curtain and see a semi-truck parked across the street. Nancy is sitting behind the wheel with a terrified look on her face. You can see a gun poking out from the sleeper which is why she's so terrified.
"He's here," you say and look at Hotch. Emily makes an excuse that she's thirsty so Jody takes her to the kitchen to grab something to drink. "Hotch, I think it's a good idea to let Jody talk to him. She might be able to get him to release Nancy without hurting her. We can tap into the CB radio. They all use the same channel."
Hotch agrees and sets up the entire line of communication. You bring Jody to the couch so she can talk to her dad using the radio. You don't want her to see him just yet.
"Here you go, sweetheart." You hand her the handheld radio. Your dad's out there. Listen, we need you to get your dad to let that woman go. Do you understand?"
"Yeah." She puts the radio to her mouth. "Daddy? Daddy, are you there?"
His head pops out from behind the dark curtain and looks at the house.
"Hi, baby."
"You need to tell me the rest of the story."
"Well, the lonely king and the queen are at the castle."
He's talking about himself and Nancy. Maybe he was lonely this entire time.
"To pick up the princess?" she smiles.
Herself.
"Well, the guards are in the way."
You and your team are the guards.
"Will you let the queen talk to them?"
"They won't listen."
"I want to see her. Will you let her go so she can hold me? You said that she's perfect, that she's the one. She wants to live in the big castle with me."
"I need to see you."
Hotch nods to you so you bring Jody to the window. Derek opens the curtains so he can see his daughter.
"Hi, Daddy!" she smiles and looks at Nancy.
"Hi, princess."
"She's so pretty, Daddy!" Wade knows there is no getting out of this and he isn't about to make a scene in front of his daughter. He says something to Nancy and she wretches the front door open. She runs out of the truck and toward the house. Derek meets her outside and brings her inside so she's away from Wade and his gun. "Now the king won't be lonely anymore."
"No, and they're gonna live happily ever after."
"Why aren't you coming, too, Daddy?"
"You did a great job, Jody," you whisper to her.
"Are you going to the better place?"
"What?" Your eyes widen.
"Yeah. We're both going to a better place, princess. Close your little eyes, sweet pea."
Derek runs out of the house toward the semi knowing what Wade is going to do to himself. You grab Jody and immediately turn her into you so she doesn't see her dad shooting himself. Derek doesn't make it and Wade is dead. Nancy is going to be okay and that's the most important thing even though it breaks your heart a bit to know that Jody won't have her father anymore.
Once you're back in Virginia, your parents agreed to come down and hang with you, JJ, Emily, and Penelope. JJ couldn't get a babysitter so she brought Henry with her. None of the girls are able to stay long but you wanted them to meet your parents, at least.
"Thanks for coming with me. I know you can't stay long but I wanted you to meet my parents. I hope you like them. Spencer doesn't. It's why he's not here. That and my dad seems to hate him."
"I'm sure they're wonderful," JJ smiles.
"Y/N!"
You turn to your parents who are outside the restaurant they reserved. The girls won't be joining you but you'd love to have dinner with your parents. Penelope and Emily stiffen up when they see your dad. You feel their hesitation from behind you which is weird because everyone loves your parents. Spencer would if your dad treated him right.
"Dad! Mom! I'd like you to meet some of my friends. JJ, Emily, and Penelope, I'd like you to meet my parents Joey and Julie."
"Hi, it's nice to meet you," JJ says with a tight-lipped smile.
Your mom leans closer to JJ and sees her son looking up at her with curious eyes. She coos and leans in even closer, causing JJ to shuffle backward uncomfortably.
"Oh, is he your son?" your mom gasps.
"Yeah, his name is Henry. My boyfriend is at work and couldn't watch him."
You're not sure why but you're getting waves of uncomfortableness and uneasiness.
"May I hold him?" she asks.
"You know what, it's past his bedtime. I should get going. It was nice to meet you," JJ chuckles.
That was a fake chuckle and you frown at her.
"Yeah, you know what, I have to go. I promised Emily I'd help her with her dating profile."
That was a lie. What is going on? You're not going to put them on the spot by calling them out. You'll talk to them tomorrow about it.
"Oh, okay. It's nice to meet you, all," your dad smiles.
All three girls part from the group leaving you alone with your parents. Your dad slings an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to him. He kisses the top of your head affectionately with a smile.
"I'm glad you're here with us."
If he's so glad, why do you feel anger coming off him in waves?
"The family is a haven in a heartless world." - Christopher Lasch
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds series rewrite#criminal minds season 5
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
I can't do anything to help those in Valencia, but I at least want to say my opinion.
I don't live close enough to go offer my help, and I can't really donate right now. I don't have a car and I live pretty far away from the city, which is where the main points to collect food, water and clothes are at.
But I'm seeing so much help from the rest of the Spaniards. Giant amounts of food and water being sent that way, and an even bigger amount of Valencians or people that live nearby walking to the most affected places carrying food, water and clothes, and shovels, brooms, buckets and whatever they each had in their home that could be used to help. Seeing all those people, all those volunteers, helping is heartwarming. Good people do exist. Solo el pueblo salva al pueblo. Only the village saves the village.
I want to clarify all this people are going there walking or biking because they aren't use the roads to not oversaturate them.
Now, let's being. What has happened?
Before: The day before AEMET, the State Meteorology Agency, had been giving warnings and updating their social media and all that saying that this was big. But nonetheless, no official warnings where given by the state. School and work was all continuing as before. No kind of informative help was sent to the people.
During: Rain. A shit ton of rain. A years worth of rain in 8 hours. Even in the places with no rain the effects are catastrophic, the rivers have caused floodings, and the cities, towns and villages have all been covered by meters of water. I don't know how much. (I also want to say that I'm no expert, but why had it been allowed to build in certain areas?)
The water rises in minutes, is fast, and with no warning no one was prepared. People were off to work, continuing with their every day life, now trapped wherever the flood caught them. Many others had gone to their garages to try and get their cars out when they saw that they were starting to flood. And many people have died in them, trapped. Don't blame these people, no kind of warning of how big this was gonna be was given, cars are a very big economical investment for the families and, again, the water rises too fast to really do much.
Cars and all kind of big, sharp and heavy crap being dragged by the water. That water also contaminated (by what the river in itself had, the liquids that came from inside the cars and other places, and now by the decomposing organic matter), so those inevitably swimming in it were in great danger for many reasons.
Think about the animals too. Ah, and also, no light nor electricity while all this was going on.
I've seen people on social media saying how it all went for them. I'm not gonna say their individual stories, but if you look them up, you'll be able to find them.
Immediately after: The people went to different stores to try and get food, water and medicine. All this stores were already broken and had been affected by the floodings. And still some newspapers (you know who you are) were trying to put shame on this people. Yes, I guess some people could have used the commotion to steal from houses or jewelry stores or whatever, but it wasn't the case of what they were showing, and it's not what the vast majority of people where doing.
Many others were out looking for their missing relatives. Some started to walk towards the big city nearby, to find some help. The conditions of the streets were apocalyptic.
A bit more time after: What I've said at the beginning. The affected throwing out the things inside their house that were too damaged by the water. Still no food, water or electricity. The roads blocked by the residues of what the water had dragged. Lots of mud everywhere. And the good people going there to offer their help. To clean the streets and their houses.
More or less right now: Other parts of Spain and even other countries offer help and resources. That help is denied. It took too long for the military to be sent to this places, but they are advising the volunteers not to go help, that theres no need anymore and that they are making it harder for the "actual help" to go. Lies. There's no emergency services help, no policemen, firefighters or military helping. And not because they don't want to, the help they offer is being rejected, not authorized.
Cleaning all that mud is so hard. All the help is appreciated. With proper equipment and machinery this would be easier.
Who to blame: The government of Valencia. Some say the one from the whole Spain for not applying certain measures. If you follow the law, the one to ask for certain measures to be taken is the Government of Valencia. And changing the whole administration of a disaster in the middle of it is just not a good idea, even if it's going late, because everything would be even more postponed.
And what truly makes them the ones to blame, they CHOSE not to warn the people, but they had cut down the budget for the emergency services and gave it to bullfighting instead.
Now the number of deaths is around 209, but there are still many disappeared people.
If you don't want to blame rain on anyone (some are saying climate change, others are arguing back saying that this has happened before), at least blame how they handled it.
Blame Carlos Mazón.
The king, queen, president of Spain and president of Valencia have gone to one of the affected places, Paiporta. I don't know why they are there, they are obviously not helping with the manual labor and are not saying anything useful either. I've seen some stuff around, I don't know what's really going on so for now I don't say anything. But the people were screaming at them and throwing stuff.
Some days after I'm still not too sure what's happening rn in Spain lol.
#i haven't proof read this so there may be some ortogafic or grammar mistakes sorry#ill update when i can and whatever it is i hear but remember im not living there so my information is not the greatest#DANA#valencia#im updating this as the days go on#let's say its an alive post lol
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
EGO-Less Mirror Dungeon Abnormalities:
Well now this is 1 tenth off of my to-do List, theres still over forty left im pretty sure
Resident of metropolaris
Highway devotee
Spider of Marrige
KQE-1j-23
Wandering Mind
Resident of Metropolaris:
The only other major thing to note is the “Polaris” section, with Polaris being the north star, or the stationary star directly towards the North Pole.
Metropolis on its own is a word used to refer to the largest or most important city in an area or country.
--
I will be quite frank, reading through this abnormalities event the first time I couldn’t gain anything from the thematic, mostly thinking “huh that was weird” and moving on.
On hearing the suggestion that this abnormality was based on the novel “Metropolis” which I had read a long time ago and could not remember in detail, I became more intrigued in this abnormality before promptly forgetting about it entirely.
For the record I chose which abnormalities I analyse via a random number generator, with 4 random numbers, and then one of choice — I did not choose this abnormality in particular, mostly as a didn’t want to re read metropolis. Maybe if I do go back to read it one day, I will also return to this abnormality, but both of those are unlikely considering the size of my reading list.
Primarily, the theme of this abnormality relates back to the city itself, relating back to the taboo’s of the nests acting to “protect” those within their care, with the citizen stating “If nobody can touch each other, then nobody can hurt each other”
Though the taboo’s of the nests, and the rules of the city at large, may seem strange and absurd to outsiders, akin to the odd rules of this Metropolaris, following the rules of the city, though risking the seemingly painful repercussions of breaking the taboos, with the citizen itself stating that it hurts, it is far better than living outside the organised structure of the city.
Now onto my conjecture regarding the novel and film Metropolis and its possible relations:
in this story, the metropolis is a technologically advanced city, seemingly perfect, yet fuelled by the slave labour of a hidden lower class — The link to the city itself may be drawn, being fuelled by the unseen suffering of those deemed less valuable, however it is more so that both cities are a criticism of Capitalism as a whole.
The more important link to the novel is in the ending, with the statement that "There can be no understanding between the hands and the brain unless the heart acts as mediator." potentially relating to the taboo of the citizens not seeing or touching each other, and this, never reaching an understanding, the linking of the lower and upper classes can never be made without the joining of their hands, however if the workers remain out of sight, fall silent, it is as if there was never any suffering in the first place.
Highway Devotee
Potentially related to the abnormality released in the next dungeon set, as both this and “explorer on a bereaved Road” seem to share a thematic, however we will discuss that at a later date.
I personally believe that this abnormality relates back to he concept of being stuck in a position in your life, which is oddly enough the exact thematic that The King In Binds uses — Milepost is a term often used for an achievement, similar to milestone. The name “Milepost of Survival” seems to invoke the concept of someone living their life, reaching a crossroad as they travel, a marking point for how long they have survived.
The Main road will block you in, trap you in a stagnant, singular role for what seems like an eternity, who knows when the next time you will come upon a crossroad like this one, Its Longer Than You Think.
The Alternative, the byway, represents taking a shortcut in life, cheating to gain a position, an action which the gods of… Traffic, will not look kindly on.
Spider of Marriage:
This Abnormality is about toxicity in marriage. That is clear to even those who have no media literacy. The married couple is stitched together, trapped in this nest by the brambles of the celebratory flowers. The couple, being stitched together, is constantly losing blood, needing to suffer in order to hold themselves, and by extension each other, up and moving.
The literary reference is me thinking constantly that this joke is funny: The EGO gift that is given by this abnormality is named “Prejudice” and is a pride affinity EGO gift. Pride and Prejudice is a novel by the author Jane Austen, published in 1813-
A large portion of the novel focuses around the conventions of marriage at the time, being that many marries are not borne out of love, not from the heart, but rather the wallet.
While I do think the reference within the EGO gift to be intentional, I do not believe that the abnormality itself is directly inspired by the theme within the novel.
All together, this abnormality is quite simple, acting as a very direct and obvious message towards the conventions of marriage and the expectation to remain with a partner for life, while also acting as a metaphor for marriage as a while, healthy nor not, with the couple’s reliance on one another in order to survive at all.
KQE-ij-23:
If you are unaware, this abnormalities code is O-06-20-02, in Lobotomy Corporation, the code for the abnormality “Nothing There” is O-06-20.
What does this mean? I dont fucking know???
My best bet at a linkage between these two is the fact that this abnormality seems to be partially a human, or rather, this abnormality is a robot which has been designed as a human? Maybe the other way round?
The opening lines establish that it seems to be leaking blood, rather than oil or antifreeze like a robot would; The [Hello] Option gives the line “in its movements you feel a plea for help”, but this isn’t brought back up at any point in the encounter nor logs again?; The Terminal on its chest, alongside the original two lines being [Hello] and [Goodbye], could be linked to the hole in NT-’s third phase where the lines match while having a hole in its chest?
The final major link to Nothing There is the fact that it says it appears to be “Incomplete”, akin to the way in which Nothing There will never become a human, and is thus always incomplete, simply being a shell undergoing its rote programming and basic observations of humans (wait hold on).
Okay I wrote that last part and had somewhat of an epiphany regarding this theory, the link between the incomplete nature of the machine and the endlessly seeking nature of the Tour Guide, with the Tour guide’s event claiming to have an “administrator”, which has left it incomplete — This is/Was the only Abnormality to have the keyword “Mechanical Amalgam”, linking back to this “Incomplete nature” and reliance on what it has been programmed to do, it is possible that, even if not directly linked to Nothing There, it is almost certainly of the same ilk relating to the theme of being an “Incomplete Human”.
O-04-84 is the Abnormality code of Meat Lantern in Lobotomy Corporation; F-04-21-03 is the Abnormality code of Faelantern in Limbus Company — Limbus Company uses a different abnormality classification system to Lobotomy Corporation. Even Aberrations dont share the same code across games, meaning that my statement about KQE being of the same ilk but not directly related is almost certain, and as we all know, I am never wrong (not legally binding).
Wandering Mind:
So, Starting off with the abnormality’s EGO gifts this time: Phantom Pain is the sensation of feeling pain from a non existent, amputated body part, most commonly Limbs.
Mirror Touch (touch is basically the same word as tactile) Synesthesia is a phenomenon where, upon observing another person, may feel the same or a similar sensation on an area of their body (E.g., Seeing someone touch their cheek and feeling a sensation in your own cheek) — This condition may be acquired following amputation due to sensory loss.
. Finally, the name of the abnormality itself: a “wandering Mind” is often used as a term for when one has thoughts unrelated to, nor produced by, current tasks or stimuli.
Both EGO gifts have names referencing tactile hallucinations, both of which may often be related to amputation, which is fitting due to the lack of arms in the abnormality itself.
This Abnormality is also, in some way shape or form, is linked to Cathy, as the EGO gift “Handheld Mirror” requires the latter EGO gift to create, and as the form of “Every Catherine” is similarly grey and arm-less in appearance.
The opening lines of this encounter are vague, relating to the concept of a wandering mind, settling within this shell of a human.
A mind never occupied in the present, only wandering, wondering what could have been, blindly reaches out to touch anything with its illusory hands.
Attempting to reach out to it, to grab its hand, reveals these hands to be an illusion, to be “Something that should not have been made visible”- a fact that the Abnormality seems to know — Recoiling after this, it turns into a small statue, the Gift “Phantom Pain”, lacking the small orb which hovered in the chest of the abnormality.
I want to note the imagery of a black hole that has been used within this abnormalities artwork, the event horizon centring the torso, the Singularity being placed where the heart would be.
The concept of Phantom pain, in this abnormality, may not specifically relate to the phantom hands, but rather the heart, the hurting from what is no longer there, the hole in the place of the heart acting to draw everything in, to consume, only to realise that it no longer has any means nor motive to do so.
Once again we are able to relate this abnormality to Catherine, or rather to Heathcliff, no longer having a reason to hurt, feeling empty as they have lost their heart.
#project moon#limbus company#limbus#lcb#projmoon#essays i wrote primarily while half asleep#literally's literal illiteracy#Mirror dungeon Abnormalities#Abormality analysis#Abnormality analysis Limbus
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
When you know more about a thing, you’ll take more risks. Once you’ve owned enough unreliable cars, you can better sense when something is going to leave you on the side of the road. Maybe you let things slip a little bit, because you’ve gotten lucky so far. This explains why my doctor eats nothing but ground-up pork rinds and four bottles of Olde English 800 for lunch.
Those of you who are particularly attuned to reading the DSM-V for fun will notice this as a gambling impulse. Me, I only like to read DSM factory service manuals, which is also a good way to diagnose mental illness. Us humans want to play it risky, we want to pit our wits against the angry whims of nature. It makes the triumph so much sweeter, even if we had to go through hell to get there.
Let me give you a more concrete example: most cars need oil to run. However, oil is expensive, so having a car that burns it means that you are both spending a lot of money on oil, and also maybe a lot more on a new engine when life gets busy and you forget. Only a weirdo would go across country, constantly topping up their oil at every rest stop. Only an idiot would offset this by spooning leftover liquid oil out of the exhaust pipe and muffler, and feeding it back into the engine.
I wanted to see if I could do it, is my defence, and it turns out that I could. When I arrived on the other coast without having destroyed my (admittedly near-death) Soviet tractor small-block, I was overjoyed. The next morning, that engine was seized up and wouldn’t turn over. While I was sleeping in the back seat, the engine had cooled down overnight and reduced itself to a large chunk of useless iron in the vague shape of an engine. Did I lose? Not at all. I bought another ticket, and by which I mean I made sure to sleep outside the local U-Pick-It junkyard. Within an hour, I was already walking out the front door with some other atrocious piece of engineering that kinda sorta looked like it might fit into the engine bay. And now I’m back here, telling you my story.
The important thing is not to be afraid of taking dumb risks. Sure, there’s dumb dumb risks, but those are often done by people who don’t know what they are doing. In order to take smart dumb risks, you should spend your entire life accumulating knowledge of a niche field, so that you know what you can safely ignore, and what you can put off for another couple thousand miles to save thirty bucks, tops. And with that, I would like to congratulate this group of elementary school children for having graduated from grade six of Miss Maple’s class.
175 notes
·
View notes
Text
Road Trip
On November 8, 1960, millions of Americans went to the polls in what would become one of the closest Presidential elections in American History: John Fitzgerald Kennedy versus Richard Milhous Nixon.
That morning, Kennedy voted in Boston and Nixon voted in Whittier, California. The candidates had spent months canvassing the nation, working to get every last vote – and every last vote was needed. For the past several weeks, Kennedy and Nixon had criss-crossed the country, debated one another, and been working non-stop to be elected the 35th President of the United States.
After they voted that day, there were results to monitor, precincts to watch, election day problems to take care of, and many other things to worry about. Imagine being on the cusp of the Presidency – with a 50/50 chance of being elected the next President of a superpower in the grip of the Cold War, with the threat of Communism and nuclear weapons hanging over your head, and the hopes of hundreds of millions of people pinned on either your victory or defeat. Imagine being in the position of John F. Kennedy or Richard Nixon on November 8, 1960. What would you do?
John F. Kennedy put the control of his campaign in the hands of his younger brother, Bobby, and then took a nap.
And Richard Nixon took a road trip to Mexico.
Once Nixon voted that morning at a private home in a quiet Whittier neighborhood, he had been scheduled to head to the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles (where Bobby Kennedy would be assassinated eight years later) for the Election Day vigil and the long wait for the returns which would indicate whether he would be moving into the White House or facing an early retirement.
Nixon was finished voting by 8:00 AM and hopped into his black Cadillac limousine to be driven to the Ambassador. Several blocks away from the polling place, Nixon ordered the limousine to stop. Along with a military aide and a Secret Service agent, Nixon jumped out of the limo and into a white convertible follow-up car driven by an officer from the Los Angeles Police Department. Nixon took the LAPD officer’s place, got behind the wheel and ditched the press which had been following him.
Driving to La Habra, California, Nixon made a quick visit with his mother, making sure she had voted for her son in the Presidential election. Nixon drove south along the Pacific Coast Highway, with no specific destination. He stopped for gasoline in Oceanside and told a gas station attendant – startled to see the Vice President of the United States on a joyride on the very day that he stood for election as President – “I’m just out for a little ride." Nixon confided that it was his only source of relaxation.
As the group of four men, with Nixon in the driver’s seat, reached San Diego – over two hours away from Nixon’s campaign headquarters at L.A.’s Ambassador Hotel – Nixon pointed out that he hadn’t been to Tijuana in at least 25 years.
As David Pietrusza wrote in his recap of Nixon’s road trip, "Richard Nixon – the ultimate control freak – was winging it on the most important day of his life." Not only that, but the sitting Vice President of the United States and the man who many Americans were choosing to become the next President, impulsively decided to leave the entire country while those voters were still at the polls.
In Tijuana, Nixon and his party headed to a restaurant called Old Heidelberg. Despite the fact it was owned by a German, Border Patrol agents told Nixon that it was the best place in Tijuana for Mexican food. Joined at the last moment by Tijuana’s Mayor, Xicotencati Leyva Aleman, Nixon, his military aide, a Secret Service agent, and an average LAPD officer ate enchiladas in Mexico while John F. Kennedy took a nap in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts.
When Nixon’s press secretary Herb Klein was asked about the missing candidate, he had to tell reporters that Nixon often took some private moments on hectic days such as Election Day. Really, though, Klein had no clue where Nixon was, eventually admitting that the Vice President was "driving around without any destination”.
After lunch in Tijuana, Nixon and his companions headed back north towards the United States border crossing. The LAPD officer took over driving duties as Nixon sat in the convertible’s passenger seat. A shocked Border Patrol guard shook hands with the Vice President and asked the man who was currently on the ballot for the Presidency, “Are you all citizens of the United States?”.
Nixon and company drove to the Mission of San Juan Capistrano, which Nixon called “one of my favorite Catholic places” on the day he faced the first successful Catholic candidate for the Presidency in American History. Nixon took his three companions on a quick, informal tour of the Mission. “For a few minutes, we sat in the empty pews for an interlude of complete escape,” Nixon later recalled.
The missing candidate and his three road trip buddies arrived back in Los Angeles before the election results started rolling in. Nixon had to explain his trip to reporters who had been searching for him all day. “It wasn’t planned. We just started driving and that’s where we wound up.”
In his Memoirs, Nixon didn’t go too far into explaining why he escaped on Election Day, but a paragraph about that day is pretty illuminating:
“After one last frenetic week, it was over. Since the convention in August I had traveled over 65,000 miles and visited all fifty states. I had made 180 scheduled speeches and delivered scores of impromptu talks and informal press conferences. There was nothing more I could have done.”
Except escape to Mexico while JFK slept.
#History#Richard Nixon#President Nixon#Presidents#Presidential History#1960 Election#Presidential Elections#Politics#Political History#Nixon vs. Kennedy#Election Day#Election History#Presidential Politics#Nixon#Nixon Library#John F. Kennedy#JFK#President Kennedy#Presidential Campaigns#Campaign History
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
All You Got | Part 8
Part 8: Observant
Plot: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4)
Series Masterlist | AO3 Version
Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 7.6k (oops) Warnings: typical twd content. mentions of death. a bit suggestive wink wink. A/N: hi hi. apologies for the late posting (again). exam season is in full swing and im drowning a bit. butttt, I managed to get this little (its the longest chapter yet lol) part out for you guys <3 just cause I love u so much. ps. the gif is a hint ;)
Every step west of that cottage distanced you further from the cold front following yesterday’s rain. The day hadn’t started exceptionally hot, but the week’s gradual dip in temperature made the sun’s increasing beat feel more eager than you’d known it as of late. The further you got, the more frequent sips you took from the lukewarm water bottle in your bag, even tying that sweater you’d been cuddling for warmth in, just yesterday, around your waist.
Daryl seemed alright, all things considered. His arm hadn’t proved too troublesome, but the area had proved relatively deserted anyway. The two walkers you came across were tired and slow. Not much of a threat. The heat didn’t seem to bother him, either; he hadn’t shed the flannel underneath his vest yet.
The sun was at its highest point in the sky when you met the border of the next town, a few hours later.
“You’ve been through here before?” You asked Daryl, pointing to your spot on the map while walking side by side down the first commercial strip of the town. The stores looked like something out of a movie, quant but full of country charm. If it hadn’t been for the boarded windows and rusted cars sitting in the road, it would’ve been a lively sight.
“When we first cleared the prison. Made our way through all the places nearby, too.”
“Couldn’t have left a little for us?” You teased, glancing up at him.
“There’s still some left. Shit we didn’t need.”
“Shit we might need?”
“Mhm. Lemme see tha’.” He grabbed the map from your hand, raising one of his own to block the sun from his eyes. He glanced over the paper, squinting at the tiny roads, then at the street sign above.
“We can take this to Red Oak.” He tapped the street lines on the map, then continued forward.
“What's on Red Oak?”
He looked over his shoulder with a slight smirk.
“Somethin’ we need.”
It wasn’t until halfway down Red Oak Drive that you realized what that was.
When it clicked, you smiled.
It was an auto repair shop. Daryl had been here before, briefly as he told it, but long enough to make note of a few vehicles still in good condition. One of which was an old, dark blue hatchback that only needed a new battery and some gas to get started again. It was still sitting in the backlot, bathed in the sun’s last harsh rays of the season after the two of you made your way around the building.
Daryl popped the hood. It was in the same condition as it was when he first found it, with a dead battery and dusty windows.
“Do we… recharge it?”
You didn’t know much about cars other than how to drive them.
“Unless ya got a generator I don’t know ‘bout,” Daryl quipped, to which you softly rolled your eyes. “We need a new one.”
“Well, there’s gotta be something here.” You looked back to the building.
“Mhm.” He nodded, closing the hood again. “Come on.”
He kicked the back door three times. You were surprised that hadn’t been enough to bring it down; it was a flimsy thing. They must’ve not worried much about burglars in a small town like this. The brick wall was sturdy, though. Ridged edges pressed into your shoulder as you leaned against it, one leg crossed over the other while the wait began. A breeze of crisp, much more seasonally appropriate air rushed by, fluttering your few loose pieces of hair; you’d have to redo that mess of a ponytail soon.
Daryl readjusted his hold of the crossbow, rolling his shoulders back— as well as he could, the left one was still noticeably stiff.
You weren’t subtle about keeping an eye on him.
“How’s the shoulder?”
His eyes squinted under the bright sun. “Fine.”
You raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“’S a bit sore,” he admitted.
“I tried to tell you.” The loose smile on your lips was sympathetic, rather than teasing.
“I know.” Daryl chewed at his lip. “But, I know ya get why I couldn’t stay there, neither.”
You stood a bit straighter, and the smile slipped away.
“I do.”
Daryl nodded. The air was heavy, not only with the newfound heat but a lingering tension— knowing— between you. If there was anyone who could understand his urge to find what was left of his family, it was you. The night you told him about your brother was still fresh in memory. There had been a vagueness you kept about the whole thing, a tone that could have sounded like a casual acceptance of fate, but Daryl remembered that look in your eye. The tear that slipped past. He didn’t have any doubt that you’d searched as far as you could for him.
But some people were too far gone.
The shared silence between you two had grown comfortable these last few weeks. This one was different. Stretching seconds, then a minute, it made his muscles heavy. His weight felt unbalanced, even with two feet on the ground.
Daryl had never been good with words— unless you counted those snarky quips he made. He either didn’t think at all or thought too long. It made him snappy and surly, the type of man people would’ve avoided before this thing. Somewhere there was a list of names to prove it. And yet, he had something to say. He wanted to.
“Thank you,” he finally mumbled.
Your expression lifted at that. “For what?”
“For keepin’ an eye on me. Takin’ care’a me the way ya did.”
Still, you seemed confused. A knit of your brows and a sweet look in your eye as you tried to pick apart some deeper meaning. Of course, you helped him. That’s what you promised, back at the start.
“Of course,” you replied. “What else was I gonna do?”
“I didn’t think you were gonna leave or nothin’,” he said, recalling your conversation while patching him up. Loyal ran deep in you, like it did him, and he trusted that you wouldn’t just leave him to rot. “But a lot’a people would’a.”
Maybe that’s what he meant. Thank you for not being that person.
You blinked, readjusting your focus on his serious demeanour. He was reserved, his lips drawn in and eyes barely holding your stare.
“Well, that’s not us,” you said plainly.
A reminder that he’d given you that loyalty, too. You weren’t sure if there were words to express how it didn’t feel so difficult to give your attention and care to the health of the man who fought tooth and nail for you to live, even after all the harm you’d caused him. It wasn’t even that you felt you owed him, but you knew he deserved it.
Daryl gave you a small glimpse of a smile. Soft and sweet, like he was proving to be— deep down, at least. It drew a lopsided grin from you too. Your temple rested against the cool brick wall, and under the sun’s golden glow, you looked quite pretty like that. It was a talent, how quickly you could turn the charm back on; nothing else seemed to grab his attention the same way.
“After all, what are friends for?”
Daryl scoffed. He hoped he didn’t sound ungrateful when he blurted, “Tha’s wha' we are now?”
“I would say so. We keep saving each other’s lives and the conversation is half decent.��� You shrugged, as if indifferent. But your smile had turned playful not long ago, about the same time he noticed a warmth at his cheeks.
He’d blame it on the heat, if you asked.
A second or two later, a walker slammed against the door.
Daryl’s shoulder wasn’t too restraining; he lured the lone monster out and freed his knife from its skull without breaking a sweat. You gave him a quick smile of acknowledgment before the two of you stepped inside.
The garage was in rough condition. A sign that was probably falling apart even before the world did, cheap tile floors, and a thick smell of mildew mixed with something decomposing— you were, unfortunately, quite knowledgeable about that smell, by now. The nicest thing about the building was that big roll-down window in the front that let the storefront become soaked in sunlight. The summer must’ve been a lot more tolerable with that wide open.
When the sunlight sneaking into the abandoned building didn’t reach far enough, Daryl held a flashlight in his mouth and scanned the store with his bow. His left shoulder was still stiff, so he had to depend on his other arm to bear most of the weight. Of course, you’d already tried to get him to keep it on his back, if anything, and take the gun instead— but he refused. All but demanded you keep the gun for yourself.
The two of you searched the aisles with quiet steps, waiting for another unfriendly face to jump out of the shadows.
It didn’t come.
Instead, you gathered the few supplies Daryl needed, even pocketed a pair of sunglasses that you were sure would be useless after today, and went back out to that warm autumn day. Sitting on that small bench by the side of the building, eyes protected from the sun, you watched Daryl pop the hood of the car. He was quick at work, dexterous fingers tinkering with different parts of the vehicle that you could barely label.
Between sips of water, your sight caught on those fingers— now smeared with grease— perhaps a second too long. When he turned to wipe his hands along that red rag in his back pocket, he noticed your lingering eye and paused.
Hesitated.
With the pair of you caught off guard, you tried to break the quickly growing tension and asked, “Were you an auto mechanic before?”
Daryl shook his head, bangs falling in his eyes as he did. He stretched underneath the hood again but spared you a glance back. Eyes squinted under the sun, the shine of sunlight hitting the grease along his exposed skin; the scene before you was beginning to look like something out of those ridiculous male model calendars.
“I jus’ know cars,” he rumbled, a slight smirk to match that thick accent.
It was getting absurd, really; the hot sun wasn’t the only thing making you blush.
You swallowed another gulp of water.
It turned out the battery issue wasn’t too complicated. Daryl recounted some of his steps to you, telling you about which wire connected to which point, and so on. It was valuable information, undoubtedly worth paying attention to. The only problem was that by that point, the sun’s beat had stripped him of his vest and hitched the sleeves of his flannel around his elbows. The fact that the top three buttons were undone, opening across that broad and bare chest of his, wasn’t lost on you, either.
It felt like a tease. He did.
All you could do was nod along with his rough drawl and lean against the cool brick wall while you tried to deny checking him out. But really, everything else came second place to the swell of that shirt around his biceps, and his tense, thick forearms. Muscles overworked after dealing with tight gears and heavy equipment.
The shade of those sunglasses was dangerous, giving you the excuse to let your eyes roam free all while Daryl was none the wiser— or so you hoped.
Thoughts you hadn’t entertained in a long time began to roam free, too. It hadn't bothered you when they left; survival was the top priority, not romance or desire. Of course, the lack of time and potential suitors was a factor, too— why would you think about that when there wasn't even a chance for it? But here you were now, staring at Daryl, and recalling that fluttering feeling of attraction in your gut all too well.
He was kind and strong. Whatever brute strength and resilience he had was matched with that three-sizes-too-big heart of his. After all, who else would take in an injured stranger, nevertheless one that attacked you just hours beforehand? Daryl might’ve blamed it on getting even, after you helped him from the window, but you knew there was something more behind that harsh stare of his.
Something delicate.
For whatever reason, you’d been lucky enough to see that gold-hearted nature firsthand. It sliced through his rough exterior, sparkling like a piece of glass caught in the sun. It was fragile, but you’d seemed to weave your way inside, anyway.
You inhaled— stop.
It might've felt otherwise, but there was still parts of Daryl you didn't know. Sometimes you forgot he was a man you’d known less than a month, been friends (barely) with less than two weeks. Even if he proved to be a good person, and was clearly easy on the eyes, from the obvious display ahead, these thoughts were intrusive. Perhaps an outcome of an idle mind. A natural attraction after a string of moments free of tension; all those life-or-death events bonded you, for better or worse, and as the urgency and blood washed off, you were falling victim to the full extent of that tie.
“Got tha’?”
“Mhm,” you faintly hummed.
He said your name— no, repeated it. Embarrassment snapped you back into focus. Here you were daydreaming and practically ogling the man, while he was trying to teach you something. Help you.
“Asked ya to grab another jug.” He gestured to the empty distilled water in his hand. Thank God, you were able to ignore that flex of his arm— mostly— when he did.
“Right, yeah, of course,” you stammered. He tossed you the small flashlight before you scurried back into the building. The dark, cool air was a welcome relief against your hot cheeks, and you hoped it’d bring down whatever flush had inevitably crept up your chest.
At least you had those sunglasses.
Maybe Daryl could feel your eyes roam his bare arms, chest, neck— stop— but you still had an inch of dignity left; he couldn’t prove it past the dark tint of those glasses, now sitting at the top of your head.
Strolling through those same aisles, you grabbed another jug and tried to shake the last of those thoughts from your mind. Like how his eyes were as blue as the pretty Georgian sky, and were quickly becoming a solace for you.
You were starting to like the looks he gave you— like he had while waiting at the door. It wasn’t that he was easy to read, no, you’d probably be fighting for a glimpse into those thoughts of his for the rest of your life. But every time you met those eyes that were once so harsh, you remembered the forgiveness he’d shared with you. The kindness. Perhaps it was a bit selfish because when you thought about that, it made something bloom deep in your chest. Something warm and sweet and good.
You wanted to share it with him too.
Somehow.
Helping him find his people was your first try. You hoped you wouldn’t need a second.
You grabbed the second jug of distilled water and turned to head back.
A thump came from behind.
It was odd. Two years spent in this world and yet, in a week, you’d reverted right back to that jumpy girl at the start. The air became thin, and you had to suck in a deeper breath just to keep your head straight. Heart pounding against your ribcage.
The last time you were in a dark store alone, it ended up with three people dead and Daryl shot.
You spun around, flashlight high. The light danced across the aisles, no walkers or living under the fluorescent glow. That wasn’t enough to soothe your anxieties, so you placed the jug on the ground next to you and grabbed your gun, instead.
It was then that your light landed on an exit sign. You could see the frame of a door below, in the far corner of the store. You approached it carefully, previously neglected as the pair of you assumed it was just a fire exit leading to that back alley, but now, with your heart still beating fast, you suspected something more lying behind that door.
You twisted the handle carefully, gun ready in the other hand, but it was locked.
You checked the front desk, found a ring of keys, and tried two before you found the right one. By then, your heart had slowed a bit. An engaged lock between you and that warning was slightly comforting, but you were still on edge. Finger ready by the trigger, if needed.
The door creaked open and you stepped inside.
Immediately, you found the source of the thump. A lone walker. Long, thin hair that was missing chunks and skin like leather stretched across its loosely hung open jaw. Its eyes were wide, staring out to the door you’d just walked through, but other than that low moan that rasped past its throat, it barely moved.
The walker was old and frail, decomposing in this backroom alone since, if you could guess, the start. It didn’t even try to crawl. It couldn’t, there was a heavy cast on its leg reaching up to its upper thigh. A mop lying on the floor— maybe the thump. A bottle of antifreeze sat next to it, a dried splash of something bumpy and red.
Puke.
She killed herself. Locked alone in a backroom, with a broken leg and no other choice.
The various ways you found the dead often reflected their last moments. Guts hanging out and bits of muscle torn from their flesh meant the obvious. Bullet and knife wounds, too. At the start, the mourning had almost been unbearable. Suffocating. Sympathy never stopped, there were simply too many roaming the world. It became dormant after one too many tried— and almost succeeded— to kill you. Then, something you only ever thought about in silent moments like this one.
You unsheathed your knife and stepped over the fallen mop. It was the least you could do.
The room was untouched. It didn’t have many valuables. Not for this world, anyway. There was a stack of cash and a nice bracelet in the bottom drawer of the desk, but nothing other than a couple of mints and a screwdriver that was worth keeping. In the top drawer, you found a single key on a thick, metal ring.
You pocketed it, just in case.
Other than the desk and those wobbly shelves filled with client records and taxes— a whole lot of paper— there was only that lumpy grey blanket, draped over something leaning against the wall, left to check out. You peeled it off carefully, but a cloud of dust surrounded anyway. Between coughs, you recognized what was underneath. The somber tone of the room lifted quickly, then.
From the front of the store, Daryl called your name. Apparently, you’d been taking too long and his suspicions had arisen.
“I’m okay!” you called back, clearing your throat one last time. “Be there in a second.”
Even though you knew even less about motorcycles than you did about cars, you smiled as you gripped the handles. You were betting Daryl knew about bikes, too. You kicked up the stand and moved the bike through the store. Twisting it around the aisles and picking up that leftover jug of distilled water as you did.
“I found something.” You grinned as you stepped back into the sunlight.
Daryl’s eyes widened when he saw what you were leading.
“No way.” He said, wiping his hands across the red rag, before stuffing it back into his pocket. “Where’d ya find this?”
“Backroom. We missed it earlier.” You pulled out the keys you found as Daryl quickly grabbed the bike.
His hands ran over the handles, then the seat.
“And I think I found the key.”
He had a ridiculous grin plastered across his face. You hadn’t even realized he could smile like that.
“Pass ‘em ‘ere.”
You dropped the ring in his open palm as he straddled the bike, thighs on either side. He looked down at the beast of a vehicle between his legs like it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
And then he looked back at you with that same look, and it almost made those intrusive thoughts from earlier seem a bit less insane.
You were sure you had a goofy grin of your own. “You know how to ride one of these?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry. Stupid question,” you chuckled, eyes roaming over his leather vest— back on— and patchwork jeans. You never liked stereotypes, but Daryl sure was one sometimes.
“Jus’ a bit,” he quipped.
“You know,” you mumbled, smile growing, “I’ve never been on one.”
“Never?”
“Nope.”
“Well, come on, girl.”
You certainly didn’t need convincing. He shuffled forward, giving you the space to swing your leg over the seat behind him. At first, your hands grabbed at the spot, maneuvering your balance into a comfortable sit— but the overwhelming sight of Daryl's exceptionally broad back, draped in that black leather vest, soon had you squirming again.
“Ya gotta hold on to me, alright?”
“Okay,” you mumbled. You placed your shaky hands on his sturdy shoulders, like handlebars of your own. It was lucky that he was wearing that vest now—an extra layer between your skin and his— because you were pretty sure your palms were slick with sweat by that point.
“Not there.” Daryl’s hand wrapped around the bend of your elbow, gently pulling your hands down. “Don’t need ya diggin’ a finger in my scab.”
Then he repositioned them around his waist.
Like it had been nothing.
It had— you reminded yourself. Whatever bothered thoughts that kept slipping into mind today were an exception. Maybe your period was coming back. Or maybe that hot sun had melted away every bit of self-control you had left.
“Ya might wanna hold on a bit tighter. It goes fast.”
Your lungs constricted. Suddenly this felt wrong. Dangerous.
“Wait— what about your shoulder? Should you be moving it—”
“‘M movin’ it less sittin’ on this thing than off’a it.”
“Well, shouldn’t we be wearing helmets or something?”
The vibration of his laugh echoed through his back, which you were practically pressed up against. You might've cared more about his flippant attitude if he hadn’t reverberated a particularly soothing warmth back into you.
“You chickenin’ out?”
“No. I’m just remembering every motorcycle crash horror story my brother told me.”
“He ride?”
“God, no. He was an ER nurse.”
“Well, we ain’t gonna crash.” Daryl rolled his shoulders back, and your grip tightened already. Nerves overcoming you. “Promise.”
His confidence was reassuring. His firm body, even more so.
“Alright then.” You nodded and the engine roared to life.
Daryl’s feet lifted off the ground, landing on the rests just in front of yours. He found his balance quickly, even with you wrapped around his back. The pace was slow at first, a steady crawl that seemed overpowered by the loud rumble of that engine below.
Then, when he finally passed the lot, he shot down the street.
You couldn’t even guess how fast he was going. The world around you started to slip away, a lost frame of reference. The trees lining the road blurred into splatters of green and red, like a watercolour painting, and the wind rustled through those strands of hair that hadn't made it into your ponytail this morning. Racing through the breeze, that chill came back. Cold, little shards of air splintering across your face and hands.
The sudden bolt of movement made your stomach drop, that fluttering feeling of emptiness finding its spot. It reminded you of riding a rollercoaster as a kid, holding your brother’s hand tight and putting on a brave face as the big sister. It might’ve worked all those years ago, but you were pretty sure he’d be laughing at you now. You squeaked like a mouse, digging your face into the warm leather at Daryl’s back. The threading of his angel wings tickled your face alongside your wild hair, and you felt that familiar rumble in his chest again.
“Ya alright?” He yelled back.
You sucked in a fresh breath of air and peeked an eye open. It felt like the bravest peek in the world— the blurry, fast world. Though still huddled behind Daryl, with a vice grip around his steady waist, you were sure it didn’t appear very courageous to anyone else.
“Fine!” You managed to reply, “I just didn’t expect that.”
His gruff voice was harsher when he had to speak over that deafening engine. You barely made out his next sentence: “Want me to slow down?”
You thought about it. But by the time you understood his offer, your eyes had opened completely, almost adjusted to the speed of the world around you. You even sat up properly, looking to your left as he raced past a strip of abandoned cars. That floating feeling inside your chest began to feel less dizzying, like Daryl’s waist was a tether to gravity as the bike ripped down the streets. He was always positioned firm and steady, like that beat of his heart you could feel against your cheek. You trusted him to keep you solid, even as the wind picked up.
“No,” you practically squealed with a newfound excitement. “Keep going!”
Much to your increasing delight, he kept that speed until you noticed a group of walkers at the end of the long-stretching road. He slowed down to turn, the joy and carefree adventure stained with reality, once again. The engine was loud. You glanced behind as Daryl bolted back through the street you’d just gone down, the blurry heads of the dead turning toward you in the distance. It’d been as good a sign as any to head back, with the gas slowly dwindling too.
When you reached the car garage again, the bike crawled back through the lot, allowing you to finally take a deep breath and catch that fluttering feeling in your stomach. The bike paused and the engine turned off. The stark difference in noise was shocking— some time down that road you forgot just how loud the engine was, and just how quiet the rest of the Earth was nowadays.
Daryl sat back, hands limply grasping the handlebars, head bowed to the beast of a motor below him. He seemed content from behind. Relaxed.
You leaned around his shoulder. “End of the line?”
He seemed to snap back into focus then, glancing at you.
“Gas is runnin’ low anyway.”
You nodded, but added hopefully, “Maybe we can find more?”
“We should use it for the car.”
You sighed, “I know.”
The engine was still warm underneath your legs. Your disappointment was just as fresh. That could’ve been your first and only chance on the back of a bike, for all you knew.
“Good first ride then?”
“Are you kidding?” You laughed. “I get it now. Horror stories be damned.”
He chuckled, even throwing you another glance back. But the second after your eyes met, his grin fell an inch. He turned his face away, too, and it hadn’t only taken a second longer for you to notice how close he was like this. You still wrapped around his back.
“Ya gotta move so—”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, climbing off the bike. Trying to steady yourself on the ground was harder than you anticipated; your legs felt like jelly, already missing the smooth leather beneath you.
Your eyes caught on Daryl's vest as he also got off.
In front of you.
The bike balanced on its stand, Daryl on one side and you on the other. Something caught his attention, just above your eyes.
“Ya got…” He gestured with a lazy hand around the top of his head.
Your eyes went wide, hand flying up to the wild mess of your hair.
You patted down a patch. “There?”
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, giving you the ghost of a smile.
You felt it again. Butterflies.
Fuck.
---
By the time you finished siphoning gas from the other cars, Daryl was done fixing the blue one. Throwing your few bags in the backseat, you climbed inside. You in the passenger seat, him behind the wheel. He liked to drive. It seemed to calm him, from that loose expression he wore.
“We’ll keep drivin’ west, see wha’ we can find.” Daryl gripped the steering wheel with one hand. The other lingered by his mouth, thumb occasionally gnawed at. “Can siphon gas from the cars on the road. Hunt for food, sleep in the back.”
“A home on wheels.” You rolled down the window as the car began to drift down the same streets you’d just sped through. The wind was softer than it had been on the bike. You already missed that terrifying, joyful freedom.
There was another way you could chase it, you realized. You started to dig through the glove compartment.
“Whatcha lookin’ for?”
“CDs, hopefully.”
His eyes flickered over you. Hair now brushed, let loose from that ponytail and tucked behind your ear as you leaned forward. The sun was still strong late into the afternoon, direct rays landing across the dashboard and reflecting onto you. It explained that glow you had.
“God, I’d listen to anything at this point.”
Daryl glanced over to the road, but his attention didn’t slip off you completely.
It never seemed to, anymore.
“Here.” You popped the cd from its case and rubbed it against the soft fabric of your sweater. “Can’t believe this is the only one. Who the hell owned this car?”
Daryl’s lip twitched up at your soft snark. “You a music snob or somethin’?”
“No.” You rolled your eyes. “I was just hoping for something better.”
With one hand off the wheel, he clicked on the radio. Static rumbled from the speakers until he slid the dusty cd inside. The dark melody was slow, something that reminded him of those nights in the same run-down bar in the early nineties. A favourite of his uncle, then his brother, and while the pair of them served a stint in jail, Daryl’s.
It was strange, feeling better off without your family by your side. But Daryl had all his life to get used to that thought. It wasn’t until he made his own family, then lost them, that he felt the opposite. He missed that group more than he could say, missed that feeling of purpose they gave him.
Though, as the days rolled on, you were beginning to fill that ache in his chest, too.
“Sure there’s nothin’ else in there?”
You checked again, but it was mostly a polite gesture. There hadn’t been much in there, anyway. A pair of old gloves that you’d already stuffed in your bag, some tissue, the lone cd, and a brochure.
“Only this.” You flickered through the pages of the sale brochure. It was for the development of a small community, units starting in the low three hundreds. The prospective opening date was off by a few years, though. You doubted they’d even broken ground before everything fell apart.
“You really don’t like it?”
“Ain’t exactly a fan,” he grumbled. There was a flash of disappointment across your face, caught in the corner of his eye. His frown lifted a bit. “’S fine, though. Ain’t a big deal, neither.”
“What are you a fan of then?” You tossed the brochure back inside the box. “Now that we have a radio, next time I’m scavenging I’ll keep an eye out.”
Daryl thought for a moment. “I dunno. Only really listened to what Merle liked.”
You blinked, brows knitting a centimetre closer.
“You spent a lot of time with him?”
“When he was around.”
Something stung in your chest. No, your heart. From the sparse details Daryl spared about his brother, Merle didn’t seem the reliable type. Every story he told was followed with stiffness. Those memories were distant and cold— the type of coolness that grew from hurt, not time.
You knew to tread lightly.
“What’d you guys do?”
“Whatever.” Daryl shrugged. “Drank. Went huntin’. Nothin’ special.”
“So you hunted even before this?”
“Mhm.”
“Merle taught you?”
“My dad.”
“Oh.”
Daryl had never mentioned a parent before. Given the age gap, you’d assumed Merle had probably raised him a good chunk of his childhood. When he was around, anyway.
That cold tone Daryl had for his brother extended to his father, also. A part of you wondered if that hurt had been deep, too. Maybe as deep as those scars on his back.
It was an insensitive thought. Unfair. Daryl didn’t owe you anything, and he certainly didn’t deserve you stuffing your nose in his family’s business.
“Do you like hunting?”
“I liked the forest. Liked eatin’.” It was better than being home. “But I didn’t do it ‘cause I liked it. Was jus’ somethin’ I had to learn.”
With a nod, you went quiet. A softly contemplative look on your face. It piqued his interest, a flutter of nerves catching in his gut.
“Why ya askin’?”
“Just curious,” you answered. “You’re the only person I’ve had out here that didn’t jump at every snap of a branch.”
“Well I got practice,” he said. “Stuck with a lotta city folk, then?”
You turned back to him then, a sly smile hanging off your lips. “I’m city folk.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
You laughed, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“Cause you’re jumpy, too,” Daryl scoffed. “Scared’a your own damn shadow.”
“I like the forest,” you defended with a slight pitch to your words. It made Daryl smirk, too. “I just don’t like how dark it can get. It’s freaky. I’ll never get used to it. Maybe all those bright city lights mess with your brain after all.”
Daryl nodded, and he knew the moment had presented itself. The tone shifted a bit serious when he finally asked the question that’d be pressing him.
“Atlanta, then?”
“Briefly.” You nodded. “My brother and I were visiting before everything happened.”
“Heard it was bad there.”
It was. It’d taken a long time to stop waking up in a sweat with memories of that night.
Still, you shrugged. “It was bad everywhere.”
“Yeah, but they weren’t droppin’ bombs everywhere.”
“I got out before that.”
Good timing.
“We were only there for two weeks. If the trip had been a month later, or earlier, we wouldn’t have been anywhere close to Georgia when this thing hit.”
Daryl felt something fester in his gut. Anxiety? That distant, non-existent what-if made him shift in his seat. He could feel it looking over your side profile— the curve of your nose and lips, the soft flutter of eyelashes— and it hit him like that bullet had. Fast.
It was true. You’d grown on him. He cared.
“You’re not from Georgia?”
You shook your head. “Nope.”
“Explains the accent.”
“Or lack thereof,” you countered. “I like yours though. It's charming.”
Daryl scoffed, and you gave him a look.
“What? I’m being serious. You have a nice voice.”
A pretty shade of light pink scattered across his cheeks. You couldn’t help that loose smile you wore. It was nice to make him nervous, for once. Of course, you weren’t about to rub it in his face. You glanced away, eyes caught in the fast shades of green, orange, and red passing by the window.
“What about you? Where were you at the start?”
Daryl cleared his throat. “Same place I’d always been. Hometown.”
“You never left?”
“Nah.”
“Not even for college or…”
His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he tried not to side-eye your reaction when he finally muttered, “Didn’t go.”
Though that part of him that held all those pessimistic, self-doubts was a strong force to be reckoned with. He didn’t need to prove himself— never cared to before— but now here he was, sitting with that gnawing feeling in his gut, wanting to.
And yet, you barely even shrugged.
“I almost didn’t go, either,” you said nonchalantly, eyes running over the back of the CD case. “You ever wish you had, though?”
“Nah.”
“Fair enough. I think you could’ve been good at it, though. You’re very…”
Daryl waited, brow hitched as you hummed.
“Intuitive.” You’d decided. “You know, you have good instincts. Sometimes it feels like you know what’s gonna happen before it does.”
He sat with those words a moment, then offered one of his own: “Observant.”
“Yeah, exactly. Maybe you could’ve been a lawyer… Or a cop.”
“Nah,” Daryl huffed. “Cops ’n I never got along well.”
“No?” You teased. “You used to get into trouble, Dixon?”
“Merle did. Guess I tagged along for the ride.” He shrugged. “Like I said, I was a dumbass.”
“You being a dumbass— that’s hard to imagine.”
“I didn’t have to,” he quipped.
You smiled at the easy wit that always just seemed to flow from him.
“So you didn’t leave town before this?”
“Not really. Never even left Georgia.”
“Seriously?”
He shook his head.
“Well, maybe after we pick up your friends we can go on a road trip.”
Daryl gave you a look. It was questioning, sure, but gentle. “Plannin’ on stickin’ around then?”
“Well, I uh…” you paused. Curiously, you hadn’t thought about it much. Since those initially tense first days together, the possibility of parting ways with Daryl, not because of a feverish worry or a herd, but because your shared journey had reached an end, hadn’t come to mind often. The two of you hadn’t been together long, but you’d already been through a lot. Patching the other up, too many close calls to count, sharing what little supplies you had… just to say ‘see ya!’ after everything felt wrong. Incomplete.
“If you’d let me. I don’t really have anywhere else to go— anyone else.”
“Alright.” Daryl nodded.
It was a short acknowledgement. A single word. It still made you smile.
Daryl wasn’t like most people. He was forgiving and insightful. He let you live when you probably deserved to die because he wasn’t like most people. All you knew about the others was that they’d earned Daryl’s loyalty at some point, and made their own way into his sentiment, too. If he trusted them, you hoped that meant you could too.
Hoped.
Worry crept back in. Maybe the others wouldn’t want you there. The stain of the prison could’ve been enough to taint your reputation, completely, even if Daryl vouched for you. And, if it came down to it, choosing between you and them, there was no doubt in your mind. He wouldn’t pick the girl he knew for a couple of weeks over his real family.
It poured out faster than you meant. Words slipped, mumbled and stuttered, “You think they might— might wanna kill me? Or, I don’t know, cut me loose?”
“Tha’ ain’t gonna happen.” Daryl watched the road. “They’re good people. Like you.”
The weight of worry lifted off your chest again. He had a talent for that.
You smiled.
Good people.
You tried to hide the flush at your cheeks and chest, glancing out the window. “How’d you find them anyway?”
“At the start, Merle ’n I were in the middle’a huntin’. Didn’t even know ‘bout the walkers until I found one out there, ’n it tried to take a bite outta me.”
“Shit,” you hissed.
“Douchebag was all over me. Smelt somethin’ awful. I started yellin’, screamin’ at the thing. Punchin’ him. He jus’ kept coming, then Merle shot it.” He scoffed, “Thought I was ‘bout to serve hard time for murder, till Merle said he’d heard something on the truck’s radio ‘bout dead bastards comin’ back to life. We left for Atlanta after tha’.”
“Refugee camps?”
“Never made it. That was when we found the others on the road. We stayed up by a quarry for a while. It wasn’t safe, so we kept movin’, till we found the prison. ‘Bout a year ago.”
“You stayed there a year?”
Daryl nodded. “We lost a lot gettin’ there. Made somethin’ of it, though.”
“I didn’t think anything like that could be real.” You shook your head.
He met your look. It’d gone from smiling to serious in a few sentences. That slight bite at your lip, a quiver in your brow.
“It was," he said.
“Do you think you could ever have that again?”
Of course, he’d thought about it. Even if he tried not to, those memories of the prison and the community they built from a grey, desolate building— a prison— were overwhelming. It was the first time in maybe his whole life that he felt a purpose. People didn’t just depend on him. They accepted him. They liked him.
He stole another look at you. That bloom of familiarity was deep in his chest, again.
“Maybe.”
---
Another hour passed. The sun was softer, a cold breeze shifting through that open window until you finally rolled it back up. You still stared outside, watching the trees slip by.
Daryl had traced the backroads back to the main road leaving the prison, and you’d been travelling west since. The same way he’d seen the bus go. It seemed strange that they hadn’t come up with an official rendezvous spot, just a last chance at loading on that bus together. But maybe a more detailed plan would’ve been useless anyway; places didn’t last long, nowadays.
The car rolled to a stop. Your head lulled to face forward, finding a slight ache in your neck when you finally tore your eyes away from the window. A question sat at the tip of your tongue, about to slip when your eyes landed on the answer.
Instead, you gasped, “Oh my God.”
There, sitting in the road, was the bus.
Splatters of blood painted the siding. A dozen or so bodies sprawled by the back door. Some were piled on top of each other, limbs mixed. Others lay alone. All of them had turned before they were put down for good.
You could just tell.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed his white-knuckle grip around the steering wheel. The veins in his hands popped out, muscle turned into stone, and there was no use in glancing up at him; you already knew that look of pain— despair— he had. Could practically feel him begin to bottle up every word, emotion, or care.
You were the first one to exit the car.
Goosebumps broke out on your skin as a cold breeze took hold. That chill sunk into your skin with the sound of the second door opening, and something stiff and heavy clouded behind you.
It was coming from him. You knew that already. It made that pit of dread in your gut even heavier.
Was it fury he was feeling? Grief?
Even when you finally did glance back at him, lingering by the car's side, you still couldn’t say for sure. That glossy look in his eye was certainly bitter. Tense with emotion that you knew he was fighting to reign in. It left him with a dark glare as he stared at the dead faces of his people— the only ones he’d known for sure got out. He had practice keeping that type of anger silent. Not the one that made you punch some asshole at the bar, but the type that was born out of misery and regret.
He’d been abrasive at the cabin. Then softer after the pharmacy. Even strained in the cottage, with you tending to his back. But he’d never forced himself numb before, not like this. You could tell he was holding back. A guttural scream, you thought, from the tension in his neck and that vein threatening to pop out where a swollen bump had been a few days prior.
But his lips drew shut in a taut line, and he was quieter than the rustle of the trees.
It made your stomach knot. Though, you were sure it was no worse than what he might have been feeling— if he'd let himself. His only lead: bloody, dead, and rotting in the middle of the road. If you’d kept driving, the tires would’ve ripped through decaying muscle and crushed bone.
It wasn’t fair.
The gas station. His wounds. The bus. These people, lying like trash on the road. No more significant than the withering leaves beside them.
There wasn’t the time, nor the energy, to spend digging graves. But you dragged each limp body, one by one, to the side of the road. Right where the grass bled into the concrete, they laid.
Sometime around the third body, Daryl began to help. He picked up the opposite limb with his good arm, then eventually his bad one too.
Nothing but that gloss across his eye to tell you these people meant anything to him. He was retreating by the second. Crawling back into that ugly pit of animosity and cynicism that always seemed to have a spot waiting for him. Each body you moved reaffirmed it. Pushed him deeper as hollow eyes fell on the cold faces of the people he cared about. He fed. He protected.
Or, tried to.
It was never enough.
-> part 9
A/N: so much happened in this part I mean... reader finally realizing she might have a lil crush on him... the bike ride... the car conversation... THE BUS
anyway. back to our regular scheduled bad shit happening to our fav fictional characters. if u have any predictions or thoughts, lmk :p
FYI: I'm expecting to miss next weeks posting. I have too much to do with exams, sorry! after that ill be graduated so lots of free time coming up lol.
if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfic#Daryl Dixon / you#Daryl Dixon / reader#daryl / you#daryl / reader#daryl dixon series#the walking dead#twd#twd fanfiction#twd daryl#norman reedus#the walking dead fanfic
254 notes
·
View notes
Text
BLUE LOCK MATCHUP — @krowedes
Your match is...
— Karasu Tabito
✦ For you, my decision didn’t take long to arrive.
✦ Usually, when I make matchups, I keep in mind the characters' preferences regarding the qualities they like, what stimulates them, or what could create an interesting chemistry.
✦ Eventually, one of them ends up stepping up to the starting line when I read something that makes me think, "Ah! I know who I’m going to pair you with."
✦ And this time, it didn’t take long, and for the first time since I’ve been doing matchups, it’s our crow boy who took off from the starting blocks.
✦ (I’m thrilled because I think he’s one of the coolest characters in the entire manga)
✦ From memory, Karasu is attracted to strong, intelligent personalities who know what they want and won’t give up. Lions thrown onto the battlefield who aren’t afraid to take the plunge and can make decisions quickly.
✦ "I see myself as someone who is very decided. If I have a dream or a goal, every decision and every move I'd make will be made all so that I could make my path toward that goal easier and smoother." Well, that's exactly the kind of temperament that can leave a strong impression on him. Someone who doesn’t give up and fights to the end, methodically, without losing sight of their goal.
✦ Because there are those who rush in without a plan. But the ones Karasu prefers are those who have thought their plan through well in advance, taking into account all possible parameters. Since he’s of the same caliber, it means he’s facing someone who could potentially challenge him, and he likes that.
✦ I see him mainly in a relationship of balanced rivalry, you know, where it could tip at any moment.
✦ "My tongue is loose, and that makes me unafraid to share my opinions, even if said opinion is harsh." Yes, again, I don’t see him getting attached to someone shy who can’t assert themselves.
✦ "I’m also very fond of sweets and eating meat – I could eat on and on and on without gaining weight, which is a huge win for me, especially in all-you-can-eat restaurants." Oh dear, you’re speaking to my carnivore heart... Out in public, we’ve seen Karasu well-dressed and liking to talk business, so to me, he’s clearly someone who has his head on straight and knows how to handle his affairs to generate profit. In other words, like Reo, he’s business-oriented and knows how to manage his finances. So five-star restaurants with all-you-can-eat buffets, exceptional cuts of meat cooked by award-winning chefs; he knows them and knows where to take you.
✦ "BECAUSE I DO NOT LIKE COOKING" Haha, that’s why you go out to eat so often.
✦ "I also like dressing up a lot and putting on makeup that is vibrant and shiny, so much to the point that I have an Instagram account that I use to track all of the makeup styles that I do." But isn’t that how you met? I imagine Karasu more on the casual chic side in terms of fashion. He’s rather sporadic on social media but follows carefully selected accounts, and I can see him talking about big brands or things like that with the people he follows.
✦ For me, his use of social media is to keep up with sports and business news, but also to stay on top of luxury products, clothing, furniture, and maybe even cars because he likes traveling on Japan’s highways (no joke, they have super convenient rest stops with incredible and massive shopping centers).
✦ I’m sensitive to the way texts are written, and I can sense a lot of pep and curiosity behind your words! These are qualities Karasu would really appreciate. He needs someone dynamic and adventurous. At the same time, not someone who’s always hyper because I see him also having his moments of solitude, even though he’s very grounded in the real world.
✦ And because the idea obsesses me, yes, you and Karasu regularly go on road trips across the country to find the most beautiful landscapes (often with the idea of posting the photos on Instagram because honestly: they’re too beautiful). You’re the couple, you know, who takes a selfie together while wearing sunglasses, with the beach and seagulls behind you.
✦ As cliché as it might sound, you exude luxury.
✦ And at the same time, you’re the couple friends love inviting to parties because besides being super well-dressed, you’re cool, laid-back, and have that touch of sarcastic humor on your tongue when something happens. Even when nothing happens.
✦ (I’m sure Karasu would love wearing Lacoste) (The polos and the cologne)
✦ (The pair of sunglasses tucked into the shirt collar...)
✦ (Really the slightly bourgeois but cool couple, and that’s what makes the difference)
A word about your match: No hesitation really, the crow showed up on his own and never left.
© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | AUGUST '24 MATCHUPS EDITION.
#blue lock x reader#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock matchup#bllk#blue lock headcanons#suo matchups#karasu tabito x reader#karasu tabito#karasu x reader
14 notes
·
View notes