#fanfic withdrawals

[astrae03]

Captain’s log: It’s been almost 2 hours since AO3 went down I’m not coping well to the point my introverted ass has finally decided to actually post something on tumblr for the first time; but in these dark times desperate measures must be taken. Stay strong everyone we will get through this. 🥲😭

[gimlilithegreat]

Sometimes I really hate having a computer based job. I’m pulling stupid hours at the moment, big deadline, blah blah blah.

And all I want to do is write fanfic. Or get on with some of my original writing.

But by the end of the day I am so massively done with sitting at my desk and acting like an adult that I can’t bring myself to do anything. I am rewatching among us videos from 2020. I just watched 4 hours of food tours. So many taskmaster round ups.

If I get through this week my brain is going to leak out of my ears.

[djarinbabysnotes]

AO3 telling me to "Retry Later" like no miss girl i am an addict and this website is crack please give it back

As I'm typing this it is back now actually lmao i panicked

[bragginball-z]

RETURN TO ME MY BELOVED

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 6.1

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 6th snippet, part 1. Celebrimbor sets out to explore Adar’s camp and has a conversation with one of Adar's children.

Somehow, my snippets are getting far longer and more detailed than I intended. (This is shorter than the last one though!) This is mostly the set up for part two of this snippet, plus Celebrimbor making a new friend. Fear not, there is also some silverscars interaction in the beginning though (and there will be more in part 2 as well)!

Celebrimbor's day-to-day existance in the uruk camp had been surprisingly mundane so far, all things considered...aside from the world-shattering changes that were going on around it.

Adar had been a good host, and readily provided Celebrimbor with some basic comforts; a cot that he could sit and rest on, for example. It was placed close to Adar's own bedding, but not directly against it, which gave the elf at least some measure of privacy.

The uruk had even aquired some furs, both to use as throws and for Celebrimbor to wrap around his shoulders to keep warm during the chilly hours at night. The smith also had his own set of armor now - undoutably scavenged, at least in part, from unforunate elves or humans who had crossed paths with the uruk forces, but armor nonetheless.

However, as someone who usually worked long hours in his own forge and spent much of the rest of his time reading, writing or sketching, the elf found there was still something missing to keep his mind occupied.

The Lord Father himself didn't seem be overly interested in reading – or perhaps he simply didn't have the time for it. Either way, there were no books in his camp, and the few maps Adar used to plan his strategies had become quite uninteresting to study after some time.

Celebrimbor had been given some parchment and charcoal to busy himself with, but even that could not put him at ease; the last time he'd sketched, he'd planned out rings he should never have even considered making. His last letters had been full of lies directed at his high king and his dwarven friends.

The elf’s usual source of comfort failed to give him any of that as a result.

No, Celebrimbor felt restless, and so he ended up deciding that he would like to leave Adar's tent and walk around the vast encampments of the various uruk legions for instead. At least for a while.

He had notified his husband, of course – not because the other had demanded it or because Celebrimbor feared reproach, but because he wanted to avoid any misunderstandings. The trust between them had been strengthened by the recent talks with Galadriel, Elrond and, by extension, Gil-Galad, but it was still very delicate, and the smith feared it might be prone to breaking if tested too harshly.

It was a show of goodwill on his part, both to ask to see the encampment on his own and tell Adar why he wanted to go in the first place.

His request was, in turn, rewarded with a similar gesture of trust.

"Very well," Adar replied, sitting back from where they had eaten their meal together. The uruk seemed to have a particular appetite for raspberries of all things, but the selection he had his men heap onto his table ranged from roasted meats to onions, pickles, various fruits and even some potatoes. Celebrimbor might have eaten finer meals, but the food was more than passable and he hadn't gone hungry once since he had arrived as a fugitive from his own people.

So far, meals with Adar had been nothing short of...pleasant, overall, Celebrimbor could admit. The uruk might be brusque at times, but he was also well-spoken and thoughtful. It was clear he cared about the wellbeing of his children, and actually had both insight into some of the elven houses as well as elvish poetry - like Rúmil.

The smith couldn't deny Adar fascinated him, and judging by the other's interest in Celebrimbor's opinions, the curiosity was mutual.

The smith was pulled from his ponderings when the uruk continued to speak.

"I think it will be safest if you don't stray too far from the tent – we must keep in mind that he is still at large, after all, and has no doubt set his sights on finding you. I'd suggest we don't make it too easy for him to do so." There was a fine dusting of humor in Adar's words – slightly sardonic, but humor nonetheless. Celebrimbor quirked up his lips in response and nodded.

"I very much agree with that. I'll stay closeby," he replied. Adar's resulting nod was curt, but Celebrimbor could tell by his posture that the uruk felt lighter knowing that they were of the same mind on this matter.

"Good. Two guards will accompany you, for the same reason. And because you might get lost - our camp is not as tidy as an elven settlement, you see."

Celebrimbor couldn't help but smile brightly. "I sure hope not! While our conversations are certainly very enjoyable, I need something to occupy my feet and my mind for a change. I have rarely been so stationary before. And I am actually quite curious to see how your people have set up their mobile workshops."

If the smith wasn't entirely mistaken, Adar looked a tad surprised at Celebrimbor's response.

"In that case, be my guest," the uruk finally settled on, and got up from the table. "I will call upon my two most trusted lieutenants to accompany you. Give me a moment to summon them."

"Thank you, Adar," Celebrimbor replied, and could have sworn that the uruk almost missed his next step as he walked towards the entry of his - their? - shared tent. 

This was how, not much later, the elf found himself flanked by Glûg and another uruk as he stepped out into the camp. He had no idea where to go, and therefore just let his feet carry him wherever they pleased.

The encampment was decidedly busy, even if Celebrimbor had the distinct impression that there was some underlying method to the chaos going on around him. The uruk were carrying supplies back and forth, cooking stews over open fires, repaired tents and clothes and utensils, and he could even see a group of them train together a little way off in the distance. His senses eagerly took in the various sights, sounds and smells as he strolled about.

After a while, there was a sharp grunt to the side of him. As Celebrimbor turned around, he saw a group of uruk eye him with suspicion and back away from him as he looked in their direction. He recognized some of them from when he’d- well. 'Cussed out his recent bad luck', to put it mildly.

He stopped and flinched the slightest bit when the group took another step back from him, hands on their weapons.

The smith inclined his head and wrung his hands as tried to negate some of their agitation. "Hello. Er. I apologize, again, for my recent outburst. I see I must have frightened you. That was...not my intention."

As if in answer, the group quickly continued on their way, almost scurrying until they were out of Celebrimbor’s line of sight.

He turned a questioning look at Glûg, who had watched the proceedings in silence. The smith was still astounded at how tall the uruk was – he towered over most of his peers and even Celebrimbor himself. "Have I really been that frightening to them? I assumed your people would have seen little more than an elf losing his marbles when- that happened."

Glûg didn’t have any eyebrows, per se, but still managed to raise them in response. After a brief pause, he finally admitted. "It’s less about being frightened," then he stopped, as if contemplating whether or not he should continue, before he seemed to come to a conclusion.

"Some of us had been...unhappy, with Adar’s decision to march onto the elven city. He insisted. Having an elf of all people make him change course has been a cause for confusion."

Celebrimbor was aware that he was gaping at the uruk in surprise, but he couldn’t make himself care. "You- I- Oh," he finally settled on, rather ineloquently. He tilted his head at the uruk. "So this marriage between him and me, it’s- actually something your people are glad about, too?"

He hadn’t been quite sure, to be perfectly honest. Seeing their leader bind himself to an elf and making it clear he had no intention of occupying his city beyond ridding it of the evil within, that could have been an incredibly unpopular opinion – even with how loyal the uruk were to their leader.

Glûg nodded, solemn, and then looked across the camp. As Celebrimbor followed in the same direction, his eyes landed on a group of uruk women, sitting together as they spun fabric or tinkered about, some of them with bundles on their chests or in their arms.

"He’s a new father," Celebrimbor’s other guard supplied, voice flat, and the smith saw and heard Glûg growl at his fellow lieutenant in response.

That- certainly explained a lot. The reluctance to have Adar walk into a bloody war with the elves, all to face Sauron, and the way Glûg was now so open with his thoughts on the matter. The uruk, too, had families they cared about. Families that had accompanied the soldiers right up to the edge of a potential battlefield. It made something in the smith soften.

"Congratulations," he said towards Glûg, voice gentle, and smiled when the other turned his attention back towards him. "I understand why it would make you uneasy, that Adar intended to seek an open conflict, then."

He paused, and his own eyes drifted across the camp as well. "I too, am terribly worried about the wellbeing of my people. I might not have children, but my subjects are very dear to me. I have endured too many losses in my life already," and then he faced Glûg again.

Perhaps it was all within Celebrimbor’s mind, but he felt as if some kind of understanding was passing between the two of them. After several moments, Glûg turned his head about in a surprisingly bird-like manner, and then leaned closer to the elf.

"Do you believe there is actually a chance?" he asked, lowly, "That elves and uruk might coexist without violence?"

Celebrimbor stopped and gave himself a moment to ponder his answer. "It will surely be difficult and not without missteps from either side. But...Adar believes it to be possible. As do I. We have convinced the elven leaders to try at least. So yes, I do believe there is a chance. If we can manage to defeat Sauron."

Glûg and the other lieutenant hissed at the mention of the Deceiver’s name, but otherwise, it seemed the elf’s words had put them at ease. Their little trio soon continued their walk through the camp – though this time, Glûg was beginning to point out different areas, and began to instruct the smith on the proceedings was taking place there as he guided Celebrimbor on an unknown path among the tents and campfires.

The elf smiled, and let himself be lead along, listening intently – particularly when Glûg mentioned that the uruk had forges nearby.

[quillofthewest]

With tumblr as my witness, I WILL complete the first chapter of this fanfic. Tonight.

BY THE LIGHT OF THE CAFFEINE MOON.

[todorokis-girl]

Let's talk about the caffeine addiction - Kirishima x reader

Kirishima and Y/N navigate an evening of tension and care. Despite struggling with a caffeine withdrawal headache, Y/N resists drinking coffee to preserve their breakfast date the next morning. 

Requests are OPEN!

masterlist

No one had ever really paid attention to your struggles before. You knew caffeine was an addiction, and the headache you’d had all day was definitely because of the caffeine withdrawal. But it was 7 p.m., and you couldn’t have coffee. Kirishima had planned a breakfast date for the two of you tomorrow morning, and you didn’t want to mess that up.

As you massaged your temple, Kirishima glanced over from the driver’s seat while waiting at a red light. His concerned eyes studied you, taking in the tension etched across your face.

“I have to stop at the gas station. Need anything, baby?” he asked, his voice a soothing rumble.

“No,” you replied softly, trying to muster a reassuring smile.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, but didn’t press further. Once he parked at the gas station, he got out of the car without another word. You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat, wishing you could skip the party. But you knew he was excited about it. It was a reunion of sorts—a chance for his old class to be together again after so long. You didn’t want to dampen his excitement, even if you felt like curling up in bed instead.

The car door opened, and the cool night air rushed in. Before you knew it, a cold bottle was pressed against your cheek. Startled, you opened your eyes to see Kirishima holding a glossy bottle of iced coffee—vanilla, your favorite.

“What?” you muttered, taking the bottle from his hand. It felt cool against your fingers, and you bit your lip, hesitating.

“You’ve been nursing that headache all day. You’re the one who wanted to come to the party,” he reminded you gently, his crimson eyes filled with concern.

“I can’t. We have breakfast tomorrow, and you haven’t seen all your classmates in forever, Eiji,” you protested, your voice wavering.

“It can be breakfast for dinner. Please, drink it,” he urged, his tone sincere and caring. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch comforting.

You looked at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face. His thoughtfulness warmed your heart. You unscrewed the cap and took a tentative sip, the sweet vanilla flavor immediately soothing your headache.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice soft with gratitude. “You always know how to make things better.”

Kirishima grinned, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. “That’s what I’m here for. Now, let’s go enjoy this party. And if you’re still not feeling great, we can leave early. Deal?”

“Deal,” you agreed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. With Kirishima by your side, you knew you could handle anything, even a caffeine withdrawal headache at a party.

[caracwinters]

Flare Signal (by @queenangst/achievingelysium on AO3) Fic Binding Update #6

I LIVE AGAIN

For most people, one bind does not take this long. However I am a) a beginner and b) the physical embodiment of ADHD (so motivation is a lil hard to come by) (my poor friend has been waiting on her birthday gift for over a month now) (but it's fine)

Edge trimming did take ages as I predicted last time but it's DONE and it looks pretty decent considering I did it by hand with a wood chisel and a homemade press. Also finished reinforcing the spine & added headbands and bookmark!

AND I made the case today! First time using the foil quill pen I bought months ago (thanks to the good folks in the @renegadeguild discord server for the recommendation!) I kept the cover design very simple and didn't do anything on the spine or back, mostly because I didn't quite know how the pen worked yet and this was my last bit of red bookcloth so I was Very Scared of Messing Up

The phoenix design definitely isn't as perfect as it would be if I used a cricut, but for hand-drawn I think it looks p good so I'm happy with it

Making sure the case fits, not glued in yet (that's a job for tomorrow)

[caffeinefafnir]

That's it. That's the reason.

[dave2olkat]

Do you have any drawings of the prior solluxes from GOLDP1LOT?

Sorry it took so long to reply, I was making a reference pic for all the Solluxes! Also, we finally have a Mage face reveal. I do have a doc with information on all of them so I can answer any questions you've got about any of them and their Iterations, but certain stuff about them won't be revealed until later on the fic, so you'll have to keep reading

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2023

No. 18 Drugging Alt Prompt

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth Era

Warnings: Nonconsensual drugging, withdrawal symptoms

You slid to your knees beside his slumped figure in the back corner of the cell. Jerry and Aaron guarded the door, still wary of how many people had actually been inside the building. It remained unclear what they wanted with Daryl but given his current state, you could be almost certain he didn’t offer it to them. Bruises in various stages of healing covered the right side of his face and neck, disappearing below the collar of his ripped shirt and tattered vest. Dried blood covered him in patches, some from the busted lip and the cut on his cheekbone— another scar — but the rest was either not his or from wounds you could not yet see. 

“Daryl. Hey, Daryl.” You tapped his less injured cheek solidly. “Open your eyes.” And he did— dull, hazy, unfocused blue pools. “Hi. Just had to go and get yourself kidnapped, didn’t you?” You smiled at him, hoping to see recognition flow into his gaze. The archer squinted at you and arched a lazy brow. 

“Yer pretty. Whatcha doin’ in a place like this?” He threw up an arm in a languid gesture toward the grimy cell. 

“It’s me, Daryl. It’s Y/N.” 

“Pretty name fer a pretty girl.” He slurred, walking his fingers up the side of your neck and to your jaw before you took hold of his hand. You turned to the two men behind you, seeking any input. 

“Seems like they used something on him. Drugged him.” Aaron offered, giving you his full attention while he answered but then he turned back to the door. It was still quiet out there but sometimes, those moments were the most dangerous. 

“What do we do if we don’t know what they gave him?” You reached to pull the archer’s hand away from where his fingers were twirling your hair. 

“Wait it out, I guess. Get him checked out as soon as we get back to the Commonwealth.”

“Fuck.” You murmured, startled by Daryl’s lips against your neck. 

“Tha’s not a bad idea.” 

You pulled his hand off your breast, face burning furiously when you caught Jerry grinning. “Not a word.” You warned him.

“Not a word.” Jerry agreed with a chuckle. “Think he can walk?”

“I don’t know. Let me—” This time, you laughed when Daryl shook his hands free of your own and gathered you up against him in the most awkwardly positioned embrace. “Daryl, can you walk?”

“Since ‘fore I’s a year old. Wha’ a silly question.”

You snorted, continuing to try to work yourself free. “I mean right now. This very minute. Can you stand up and walk out of here?”

The archer scoffed and even that sounded drugged. “No ‘cause yer sittin’ on muh legs.” 

You heard Jerry almost lose it behind you and rolled your eyes with a smile. It didn’t appear that Daryl was in any immediate danger from whatever they had used on him to keep him calm and pliable, but you would still feel better with him away from this horrible place. 

“If I move, would you stand up and follow me?”

“I’d follow ya anywhere.” 

That sounded so sincere that you felt a sting in the back of your eyes. You two had been together for years and the man still managed to give you butterflies. He just never tended to do so in front of two of your friends. He was going to be mortified when they teased him later. 

“Okay, let me go and then you can hold my hand while we get out of here, okay?” He released you almost instantly, blue eyes flickering down to your hands and back to your face. “Okay, let’s go.” You offered a hand and he took it, but when he tried to stand, his knees buckled and he sank back to the floor with a pout.

“Legs ain’t workin’.” He noted needlessly, staring at the offending limbs with a curious tilt of his head. 

With a sigh, you turned to Jerry. “Will you?” The man offered you the sweetest smile. 

“You don’t even have to ask, Y/N.” He lowered his gun and positioned it over his shoulder, bending to help haul Daryl to his feet. The archer swayed and almost went down twice, wide eyes studying the figure beside him. “I gotcha, man. It’s all good.” He tried to move forward, but Daryl remained stock still. 

“Yer a big sumbitch, ain’tcha?”

It was Jerry’s turn to helplessly look at you while you smothered a chuckle. “Let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Right behind you.” Jerry swept his arm beneath Daryl’s knees and lifted him. Your partner was going to be beyond embarrassed when he came back to his senses. 

Daryl was actually quiet throughout the journey toward the Commonwealth. You checked on him frequently, ensuring the four of you stopped so you could give him water and hold his hand as promised. 

You knew the drugs were starting to wear off when he stopped reaching for you and started trying to walk on his own. Jerry placed him on his feet but kept a hand close, grabbing his upper arm when his legs gave way. He refused to be carried any longer though. He stumbled on unsure limbs with Jerry practically holding him up. 

You encountered a few groups of walkers, forcing the archer to stand against a tree and let you and the others handle them. When one got too close to your back, you heard the whoosh before the corpse hit the ground with Daryl’s knife in its skull. 

“Hey! You can see straight again!” You teased, handing the blade back to him. He mocked a laugh and then pulled you to his side with his arm over your shoulders, only slightly leaning on you as you walked. He must’ve been tired of Jerry. 

It was after you had made camp for the night that things got bad. 

It started as a headache. 

You awoke alone, which had you nearly hyperventilating and calling out his name frantically while you grabbed your weapons and crawled from the tent. 

“Quiet, woman. Ev’ry walker fer ten miles gonna hear ya.” Daryl hissed from beside the fire. You didn’t explain your reaction. You didn’t have to. Once you settled, he reached out for you with a quiet “c’mere” and pulled you against his side, his lips pressing against your temple. You had been without him for nearly two months.  Others had given up hope but not you. You could feel he was out there. So could Carol. She had wanted to come with you but the kids needed someone there. You promised to bring him home and she believed you. 

“Can’t sleep?” It was a silly thing to ask. But you avoided asking what they had done to him. He would tell you when he was ready. 

“Head’s hurtin’.” He sniffed and threw a couple of sticks into the fire. You hadn’t even noticed he was sweating. His shirt was damp and he had unbuttoned it halfway. You placed a gentle handle against his forehead. 

“Don’t seem to have a fever. You feel okay besides the headache?”

“Mostly.” 

You accepted that with a nod, pulling away from him to get off the ground and onto the fallen log a little further back from the fire. “Come over here, handsome.” When he was close enough, you guided him to sit on the ground between your knees and lean back against your stomach. Petite fingers rubbed gentle circles on his temples, earning a quiet sigh as he began to relax into you. 

“S’gonna get bad.” 

“What is?”

You were glad you asked. Daryl had a lot of experience in withdrawal thanks to Merle. He knew what was happening and prepared you as best he could. But sitting at the mouth of the tent the next night while he writhed and moaned, hands clutching his stomach as if he could claw out the ache. Nothing could prepare you for this. 

“Nothin’ ya can do fer me ‘cept try ta keep water in me, maybe somethin’ mild fer the hurtin’.”

He was stripped down to his boxer briefs, unable to stand the clothes touching his skin. You had tried to give him Tylenol but he had screamed— literally screamed —and swatted the pills from your hand. He did drink some water before the next round of stomach cramps started, then he had vomited it all up.

You sat with one hand on your face and the other lightly on his ankle. He had warned you to stay back as often as you could. That he would lash out. He wouldn’t mean to hurt you but he might. So you stayed close but not as close as you wanted. Your heart yearned to soothe him, to find the bastards that did this to him and kill them all over again. They got a quick death and left your partner here to scream in agony for something he didn’t want. 

“Y/N…” he panted, sitting up only to wrap both arms around his middle. 

Fuck. You moved quickly, grabbed the coffee can you had found on the way. Daryl had told you to grab it and hang onto it when he saw you kick it. He said it’d have some use. 

And while you held the small can in one hand and Daryl’s sweat-slick hair in the other, you knew he was right. The dry heaving was worse than when he was actively emptying his stomach. Watching the already cramping muscles tense and twitch with every failing purge. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” When the retching dissipated, he was left on the bedroll, exhausted and panting but looking at you with clear eyes for the first time in hours. 

“Y/N.” It was a quiet moment, a gentle reprieve. Within heartbeats, he arched with a sharp breath through clenched teeth and curled in on himself once again. You reached to wipe his hair away from his face but he snatched your wrist and shoved you back hard. “Don’ touch me!” 

Your exit from the tent was quick and uncoordinated, tears you had been trying so hard to hold back were cascading down your cheeks. You stumbled to your feet and right into Jerry’s arms. 

“How’s he doing?” The weight of the situation was showing on all of you, even the always optimistic former King’s guard. Right on cue, Daryl let out a guttural scream and something crashed inside the tent. You flinched, closing your eyes. After a moment, you felt large hands take hold of your shoulders, firm but gentle. “It’s not him, Y/N. This isn’t his fault. Or yours.”

“I know.” You whispered as Jerry bent to place a kiss against the crown of your head. 

“Only a few walkers coming around from the noise. Aaron and I got the perimeter, okay? You just focus on taking care of him.” You nodded and started to turn away when he caught your hand. You looked back at him, zeroing in on that gentle smile. “And you. Make sure to take care of you too.”

“I will.” You patted his hand and watched him disappear back into the darkness. You gave yourself a few more minutes before you ducked back into the tent. 

On the fourth day after rescuing Daryl, you awoke at the mouth of the tent. Your hand was still wrapped around his ankle but he wasn’t moving, wasn’t making a sound. You felt fear grip and twist your heart as you crawled into the tent, brushing his hair from his face. He was…sleeping. 

He was still sweating, still curled in on himself, but he was actually sleeping. His face twitched every few seconds and his fingers would flex over his abdomen but he was actually fucking sleeping. You covered your mouth to subdue the sobs, careful to keep as quiet as possible. Leaning forward, you remained silent and simply watched him sleep. After days of screaming, actually begging you to kill him, he was resting. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there when you heard the crunching twigs and leaves of footsteps approaching at a fast pace. In two seconds, you had your knife and you were crouched at the mouth of the tent, ready to keep anyone or anything from disturbing the archer. Luckily, you were met with the concerned faces of Aaron and Jerry. 

“We didn’t hear him anymore. Is he—” Aaron’s expression of naked fear and barely contained grief nearly brought tears to your eyes. But it fell away the moment you smiled. 

“He’s okay. He made it.”

Jerry had carried Daryl again but he was too out of it to care or even notice. Once back inside the walls of the Commonwealth, you opted for the hospital. You hadn’t been able to keep him properly hydrated during withdrawal and he hadn’t eaten in god knows when. You couldn’t picture taking him home this way. 

He slept through arriving, triage, IV placement, and well into the night. Carol was with you now, holding you tightly while you took a moment to let out all you had been holding in for his sake. 

“It was awful. I couldn’t help him. I just had to sit and…and…and watch. What if he’d died like that?” 

The silver-haired woman held you tighter, rocking gently. “He didn’t. He’s right here and he’ll make a full recovery. Tomi said so. You did that. When everyone else quit on him, you went and got him. Stayed with him. And now he’s here because of you.” When she pulled away, she hooked a finger under your chin and gently guided you to look at her, smiling one of those gentle smiles of hers that seemed to make almost anything better. “Thank you. I knew you’d keep your promise.” 

You nodded and she let you lay against her and rest, slipping out at some point during the night when you were sound asleep, too exhausted to feel her move away or hear her leave. 

When you opened your eyes again, the sun was up. You felt more rested but still run down. You truly couldn’t wait to be home, in your warm bed, and wrapped around Daryl while he recovered. You wiped at your sleep filled eyes while you stood. There were two trays on the bedside table. When had they brought them in? 

You grabbed one and sat down on the chair next to Daryl’s bed, slowly eating the scrambled eggs and sipping the coffee. You had already finished both when he began to stir. You were up in a flash, leaning over him and willing his eyes to open. You needed to see those pretty blue eyes, clear and pain-free. Then, just maybe, you could breathe again. 

It took him a few minutes to actually awaken but his breathing changed, picking up a little before his eyes finally peeled open. They were bloodshot but focused, darting around the room until they settled on you. 

“Y/N.” He breathed. You watched the tension melt out of him. Your heart fluttered and you smiled, tracing his jaw with your fingertips. He knew he was safe just by seeing you. 

“Hey, you. How’re you feeling?” Your hand moved to his hair, smoothing it back away from his face. He hummed in thought, letting his eyes close but only for a brief moment. 

“Like shit.”

“I’m not surprised after what you went through.” You had to stand on your tip-toes to reach but you pressed a kiss to his forehead. Hearing the soft sigh he released warmed you from the inside out. “Tomi says if you eat and keep it down, you can go home.”

He hummed. “Home sounds good. Real good.”

You grabbed the eggs from the tray and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’re we waiting for then?”

“Can feed myself, y’know.” He winced as he adjusted himself to sit up, pulling off the nasal cannula to toss it aside with a huff. 

“Dixon, I will make airplane noises if that's what it takes to get you to eat these eggs.”

“Ain’t gon’ need all tha’.” 

He let you feed him without much of a fight. 

That night, in your little house, you were lying on your back with Daryl’s head on your chest. After helping him with a shower— he swore he could do it himself but was suddenly tired and frail once your t-shirt was tossed into the laundry basket— and a small dinner, he had all but collapsed, exhausted from the ordeal and more than ready to be in his own bed. Dog was curled up at your feet. Daryl didn’t have the heart to kick him off once he saw how much the animal had missed him. 

Everything was right again. 

“I missed you so much.” You ran your fingers through his still damp mane, and he pushed his head into your hand when you began to lightly scratch his scalp. Your partner was truly a cat in human form. “I was terrified when we couldn’t find a trail.”

“Butcha did. Wonder who taught ya that?” 

You tugged lightly at his hair with a snort. You let yourself smile for a moment, sighing when he nuzzled against your chest. “I thought I was gonna lose you out there.”

“Y’ain’t gonna lose me.” He said with a yawn. 

“Better not. I can track now. I’ll find you.”

Now he snorted. “Yer something else, woman.”

“Damn skippy. Better hold onto me, Dixon.”

“Bet yer ass I will.”

[haloofsaturn]

since last november ive reread tsc twice …. the fact that tsc2 comes out in december is insane to me, ive been living off of aftg scraps for years. simply rereading the books and scouring the extra content. now, not only did we get another book but we’re getting two more? if i get used to this im gna be going thru withdrawal when tsc3 comes out and that’s the last book …..

[eleiwitch]

Ao3 has been down for 4 hours now

And in its honour I present: the people having withdrawals

[elleniemae]

Me rn (ao3 is down)

[rosie321go]

Ugh, I just got a comment on of my old fics, and it reminded me how much I love them

Reminder to comment something lovely on the current fic you’re reading—I promise the author will love it!!

[yinyuedijun]

i must not write this pregnancy fic i must not write this pregnancy fic i must not write this pregnancy fic this is the devil talking and i must not listen