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rosenclaws · 1 month ago

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I See the Light || DOFP!Logan x Reader

Summary: Logan saved the future but now he doesn't feel like he fits into the mansion anymore. He doesn't know what he needs but he just knows he needs a break. So Charles sends him on a mission that changes his whole world.

warnings: fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), abusive parents (Not descriptive), injury, reader deals with a jerk and logan saves the day, swearing

wc: 6k

a/n: Sooo I might have fucked around and wrote 6k words today. This is my entry for @princessanglophile birthday writing challenge! I was given dofp logan and I see the Light from Tangled. I was so so excited to get this song as its one of my favorite disney songs and I'm so happy that I was able to finally get the story that's been in my head in writing. This fic very very loosely follows the plot of tangled but only in a few ways. I really hope it lives up to the song and I was able to do it justice. Enjoy!!

If there was one word to describe how Logan felt after coming back from 1973. It would be lost. He wouldn't say it himself, in fact he'd insist he was just fine. I mean the plan worked, he went back and he saved everyone. Who wouldn't be thrilled to come back to a peaceful world?

But in doing so Logan sacrificed everything. His friends, his family, they don't remember him.

They only know this timeline version of Logan. So now he's a stranger to them and they're strangers to him. He wakes up and teaches his classes but he doesn't know these students.

He sees Rouge and Bobby and he can't help but think of the timeline where Rogue took the cure and lost all her powers. Seeing Kitty all grown up and teaching the new generation of mutants. Storm being the leader he always knew she could be. And of course. Jean. She was alive in this world and so was Scott. It had been years since he saw them.

He doesn't know how to feel. He's found and lost those closest to him. After all of this, he just needs a break. To find himself and learn to stop fighting. He doesn't have to anymore but the rest of him hasn't caught up with that sentiment.

"Logan, I have a mission for you." Charles has called him into his office. He can sense Logan's unease and despite helping him regain some memory from this timeline he knows that Logan is struggling.

"While this world is not as violent as you remember, there are a few anti mutant sentiments still lingering throughout the country." He hands Logan manilla folder.

"She's been raised her whole life in hiding. Her parents forced her at a young age. You need to find her and bring her back.

"And exactly how am I going to do that? If she's in hiding?" Logan asks, flipping through the little information he's been giving.

"Don't tell me you've lost your touch." Charles says with a smirk. Logan shuts the folder and tosses it back at Charles.

"Give me a week."

"This will be good for you Logan. Be patient with her." Logan nods and turns his back to leave.

"One more thing, Take your time Logan." Charles gives him a look that Logan doesn't quite understand and just nods.

After throwing a few things into a backpack he slings it over his shoulder and silently weaves through the mansion. He sees a few people in the kitchen, laughing over cups of coffee and stories of their students. His heart tugs as he looks away, he has a mission to complete.

He doesn't even say goodbye.

Swiping Scotts keys he hops into one of the many cars in the garage. The only information Charles really had was that she was located across the country.

For days Logan drives through the mountains and plains of America. It's a little weird to be honest. He remembers the world turning to a complete wasteland. Nothing but death and destruction. He never once looked at a field of grass while driving down the interstate and thought anything but how boring the view was. Now things are a little different.

After hopping from shitty motels and diners with sweet waitresses and heart stopping food he finally makes it to where Charles said you were. It's a small beach down on the coast of California. Of all the places to be trapped this isn't the worst he thinks as he parks his car at some motel.

The front desk worker barely paid attention as he handed Logan the keys to his room and a brochure of everything the town had to offer. Which was two restaurants and the beach. Realistically he knows you wouldn't be anywhere in town. Too many people. Probably somewhere on the outskirts of town. He slips into a bar, ordering a glass of whiskey and pokes around. Asking the already drunk locals about the weird parts of town. Any strange people.

After some teeth pulling conversations with a woman who was clearly trying to get in his pants, he manages to get information about this house on top of a hill about five miles out of town. How the kids think it's haunted and only a lone woman lives there. The windows are boarded and a wire fence blocks any trespassers.

Bingo.

Apparently the woman leaves every three days at dawn and doesn't return until night and luckily for him she should be leaving tomorrow morning.

With a cigar in hand Logan stares out at the ocean, he doesn't know what time it is but he knows he can't sleep. His dreams are still plagued with watching his friends die. He just can't shake them off, even if that's not how things are anymore.

At the first sight of light peeking over the horizon he hops into his car and drives towards the lone cabin. He ditches the car about two miles in and walks the rest of the way. The sky is painted pinks and purples as he reaches the small cabin.

He catches two unfamiliar scents as he nears. One makes his eyes water, it's rotten. The other is much sweeter, like fresh flowers and honey. The door opens and Logan jumps behind a tree. The sound of footsteps and a car ring loud in his ears. He moves like an animal as he blends himself in with the foliage.

Once the car is gone he hurries past the fence. Cutting through it with ease and making his way into the cabin. He doesn't see anything as he enters. The lights are turned off and everything seems in order.

"Hello?" He calls into the dark house. His nose twitches as that floral scent invades his nose again. He closes his eyes and his hearing zones in on a heartbeat. It's beating faster and faster.

His eyes snap open and he turns around, grabbing your wrist that was inches above his back. In your hand was a crude excuse for a knife. Your eyes are wide and full of fear, your hands trembling in his grasp.

"There you are kid," Logan plucks the knife from hand with no fight and tosses it onto the counter.

"W-Who are you?" You try and tug your wrist away but he's too strong.

"Logan. Now I'm here to get you out of this place." He expects this, fear or uncertainty is common. But you he's never had someone try and attack him before. He wonders what your powers are.

"No." You say making Logan raise an eyebrow.

"I can't leave. She said they'd hurt me."

"Hurt you?" He lets go of your wrist and you slink back to the corner of the room. He wonders just want your mother has told you. He sighs and sits down on one of the dining room chairs.

The look on his face makes you shiver. He's so. Intense. No smile, no soft words. Like he could careless if you went with him or not.

"Why did they send you?" You ask and Logan just shrugs.

"I'm a people person." He says in a deadpan voice. You don't say anything back and Logan slowly lets his so called "angry" face shift to something else. You're probably scared and he's not great with people but he does want to help.

"Look I don't know what she told you, but I can promise that you don't deserve to be locked up from the world." He says and you lower your head.

"I know you're scared, but I'm just like you." He unsheathes his claws making you jump.

"There's this place, a home for people like us where we can be safe and you can learn to control whatever powers you have." You look down at your hands. Still uncertain about all of this.

Your mother had kept you here your whole life, forcing you to never use your powers. Telling you that the world hates what you are and to be lucky she hasn't fed you to the wolves already. Honestly you don't know why she keeps you around, but its true. You can't protect yourself from whatever is out there.

But this man, Logan. He seems like he's taken care of himself just fine. Not a single scratch on him. Maybe he can protect you too.

Your heart has longed for so much more than whatever this life has been so far. The books you read don't hold a candle to the real thing. Could he really take you to a place that's safe.

"Come with me and if you don't want it, if you don't like it. I'll take you back home." He offers, seeing the swirling emotions in your eyes.

"Promise?" You ask softly.

"Promise." Logan sticks his hand out. You glance down at it. It feels too good to be true but this could be your chance to leave this house, to be yourself. But your mother? Honestly, she'd be happy with you gone. Would she come after you or rejoice that her one problem is gone?

Guess you'll have to find out. You reach out and take Logan's hand, hoping you didn't just make a big mistake.

Logan doesn't waste much time heading back home. He takes you back to the motel and tells you to wait in the car while he packs his stuff and checks you. You've never been in a car before. Of course you knew what they were but being inside one was different.

Curiosity gets the best of you as you open every compartment and press every button you can see. You press something the car makes a noise making you jump. You press it again and again before Logan pulls the door open.

"Hey, quit fucking with the horn." He grumbles as gets into the drivers seat.

"Sorry." You apologize, putting your hands in your lap and looking down at them.

You're silent for a while. Not moving, not speaking a word. Logan keeps sneaking glances at you, guilt slowly building as you don't even look out the window.

When Charles said you were sheltered, he didn't realize you were this sheltered. He thinks back to what Charles said before he left. Patience. He's still working on that one.

"I didn't mean to snap at you." Logan says making you look up at him. Your head tilting in confusion.

"You really never been in a car?" He asks as he turns his attention back to the road.

"No, my parents wouldn't let me. I had to stay inside. I couldn't leave." You say quietly.

"You were pressing on the horn, you don't want to use it often. Only to get someone's attention or when someone's being a jackass." You nod your head, watching the other cars driving.

Suddenly Logan swears as a car cuts too close in front of him. He slams his hand on the horn and swerves around the car. He speeds up, glaring at the driver and throwing up his claws in a threatening manner.

"Like that?" You ask. Logan looks at you and lets out a small laugh.

"Yeah, like that."

He drives a little while longer before stopping for gas. He hands you a twenty and tells you to grab some snacks as he fiddles with the machine. You're too shy to tell him you've never been in a store before so you take the money and head in.

It's like a wonderland of sweets and food. You're mom didn't let you have anything like this. In fact she never even told you about half the things on the shelves. You had read about candy and soda in the books she'd bring you but that was it.

You grab anything you can carry. You're too wrapped up in the overwhelming options that you don't see the man in front of you. You bump into him and send both of your things to the ground. The drink in his hand spilling onto his shirt.

"I'm so sorry!" You squeak as you the man turns around and glares at you.

"Watch where you're fucking going." He snaps making your eyes widen.

You reach down and try to pick up the fallen items but he grabs onto your wrist. This isn't the same as when Logan did it. Logan was firm but gentle while this man was angry.

"You're hurting me." You try tugging yourself free but its no use. The mans grip tightens on your wrist. Suddenly the man is ripped away from you and thrown onto the ground.

"Get the fuck off her!" Logan growls. He stands tall above the man, a pissed off look on his face.

"She ran into me!" The man scrambles to his feet, trying to puff his chest out to stand toe to toe with Logan but it's a feeble attempt.

"Stupid bitch." Logan grabs onto his shirt and slams him into the shelf, uncaring if things fall.

"Listen here bub, you get the fuck out of here and take your cheap gas station coffee with you." Logan lets go of him and grabs the coffee cup.

Slamming it into his chest with force. You watch, afraid to even move as Logan pushes the man out of his way. He scrambles out the door, yelling something that you can't quite understand. Logan turns to you and your eyes start to well with tears.

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to cause all this I-"

"Hey, stop crying." Logan grabs your arms and waits for you to calm down. "It was an accident. That asshole isn't worth crying over alright?" He grabs all he fallen snacks and brings them to the counter.

The poor cashier couldn't even look Logan in the eye as he pays. Too afraid Logan might beat him up too. He hands you the bag of snacks and grabs a few cigars too.

"You really like sugar don't you?" He jokes as he sees the amount of sugary items in the bag.

"I've never had it before." You admit as you dig through the bag and find something small.

Chocolate.

You dreamed of tasting it for the first time. You rip open the wrapper and bite into it. Wolfing it down in seconds. Logan chuckles, seeing the brightness in your eyes as you taste it for the first time.

"Pretty good huh sweetheart." He reaches over and takes your chin in his hand.

You drop whatever's in your hand, a sudden feeling of...you don't what to call it. Your stomach flutters as he wipes some chocolate off the side of your lips. Your heart starts to beat faster when you see him smile, his eyes turning soft. Palms sweaty and for some reason you don't think you can even look at him right now.

He lets go of you and turns back to the road without a second thought, like he didn't just cause this kind of reaction in you. You hug the bag of sweets and stare out at the road. Trying to calm your beating heart.

Night falls and Logan is still driving, he could drive for a while if he had to but he sees you asleep off out of the corner of his eye. He pulls of the highway and into the parking lot of a motel. He leaves you asleep in the passenger seat reluctantly, checking every couple seconds as he books a room.

When he comes back you're still sound asleep. You look so peaceful, a smile on your face and he wonders what you're dreaming about.

Candy wrappers sit on the floor the car but he just leaves them be. He did have to cut you off after about three kit kats, not wanting you to give yourself a stomach ache.

Seeing someone try flavored chips and processed candy for the first time was amusing. Seeing your face light up with each bite. You were just so, optimistic. He doesn't really know how. He expected you to be angry, jaded, afraid and meek from being locked away for so long. But instead you're full of wonder and curiosity.

You almost gave him a heart attack when you saw a cow for the first time. You slammed your hands on the window and you screamed in excitement. Pictures didn't do them justice, they were just too cute. Things that other people take for granted every day, you saw as new and wonderful.

He opens the car door and scoops you up in arms. Trying not to wake you as he makes his way into the room. Placing you on one of the beds.

"Hm?" You mumble as you sit up, the jostling having woken you.

"Sorry, tried not to wake you. We're stopping for the night go back to sleep." Logan whispers, laying a blanket over you.

"Okay..." Logan takes a sharp breath when he sees your wrist. The one that man from earlier had grabbed on to. You paid no mind to it as you roll over on your side, snuggling the warm blanket.

"Hey, we need to get this checked out." He gently grabs your wrist but you shoo him away.

"M'fine, it doesn't hurt." You say but he doesn't budge.

"Still, it looks like a nasty bruise is forming." You bat away his hand and cover your wrist with your other hand. Logan's jaw drops as your hair starts to glow. He scrambles back as the it shines brightly and then slowly fades away. When you move your hand your wrist is completely back to normal. No bruising to be seen.

"What the?" He looks at you in shock.

"My powers, I don't really know why but the hair glow seems to be apart of it." You rest your head back into the pillows.

"Why would your parents ever want you to hide this?" He asks in disbelief, your powers weren't ones of destruction but of healing.

A sad looks appears on your face and he doesn't ask any more questions. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.

"Get some rest, we'll keep going in the morning." Your eyes close and sleep comes quicker than it has in a long time, Logan's presence lulling you into a feeling of safety.

The morning light shines right in your eyes as you wake to the sound of snoring. You groan as you roll over onto your back. As the world comes into focus you expect to find yourself staring at the cold wood ceiling you've woken up to every day of your life. But you don't.

You shoot straight up in bed seeing the motel décor and Logan asleep on his bed. He's sprawled out on his stomach, shirtless. His hair is still somehow in the same shape as it always sits. The gray streak in his hair matches with the slight graying of his beard. You feel that fluttering sensation in your stomach as you look at him. You want to look away but you can't. His face has that grumpy look on it, even in his sleep. You giggle as you see some drool on his pillow. You lay back down on your pillow, turning to face Logan. Is it creepy to watch someone sleep? Probably, but you wouldn't mind if Logan watched you sleep.

The only man you had ever known before was your father. When he left your mother grew bitter and angry. Neither of them liked your mutant powers but your mother really hated them. You never really understood why. You could help so many people but she refused.

She would tell you that people lead to nothing but trouble. That everyone was cruel and selfish. That love of any kind wasn't real. But some nights you'd sneak into her study and take on of the many books on the shelves.

Stories of romance , adventure, a knight in shining armor. Despite what your mother said to you, those books kept your fantasies of love alive. You just haven't experienced for yourself let. Could that be the silly feeling in your stomach?

I mean, Logan did come in and rescue you. He wasn't wearing armor or riding a horse, instead he showed up in a blue car and a leather jacket. He didn't slay a dragon but he did threaten that one guy at the gas station. You hear him stir, his eyes opening as he groans and shoves a pillow over his eyes so the sun stops hitting him.

You quickly turn on your other side, pretending to be asleep. Would Logan even want to be with someone like you? He's on a mission to bring you back to his home. This is just a mission for him.

Right?

The week deadline Logan gave Charles has gone out the window. It's been far longer as the two of you drive into a new state. Truth be told Logan has been enjoying being away from the mansion. There's no pressure to be anyone but who he is out here.

You don't know anything about his past, or who he was before he came back. You're bright eyed and curious. You had become more and more comfortable around him. You didn't care if he could shoot claws through his knuckles, you trusted him completely.

Now every time you saw something new you begged him to stop. He pretended to be annoyed, making some comment about how he doesn't have the money for all this damn gas. But he can't say no to you. Despite being locked away for so long you seem to have perfected your puppy dog eyes in a matter of days.

In some weird way, watching you discover the world has made him find some joy in life that he's been missing. Logan has always been a glass half empty person if you will and you were so full that some of it was spilling into Logan's glass. He learned that you weren't completely clueless but there were a lot of things that you had never experienced for yourself. Being told stories could only do so much.

You're leaning against the window of the car humming a song on the radio. You really love the radio. In the cupholder sits a water bottle that had been cut in half and filled with dirt and flowers. You had asked him to pull over while passing this field of flowers. He leaned against the car as you took your time admiring them all.

Laying down in the grass and staring at the blue sky. You had called him over and he stood above you, a smile on his face as you held out your hand.

"I don't frolic in flowers sweetheart." Still he let you lay and watch the wind blow the clouds, pointing out the ones that looked a little funny. By the time you got back in his car you had dirt on your clothes and the biggest smile on your face.

You handed him a little handful of daisies. You could barely look at him as you gave them to him, telling him they were a thank you. Those cute little flowers are now living in a cupholder but he likes being reminded of that day.

"Woah! Logan what's that?!" You sit up and point out the window. To your right was a massive wheel and tents and lots of cars.

"Must be a fair or something." He says.

"What's that?"

"It's like a big party I guess. There's greasy food and games and rides." He points towards the big wheel.

"Can we go?" You beg, this is the fourth time today you've asked him to stop and at this rate you won't get back to the mansion by next month. But Logan pulls off the freeway anyways.

The parking lot is uneven ground and you stumble as you try and step in the right spots. Logan just laughs, holding out his arm for you. Shyly you wrap your hands around his big biceps. The bright lights and smells overwhelm you as you step through the gates.

People all around you are laughing and enjoying themselves. You see kids running past trying to get to the next ride, people eating delicious smelling food, bells and whistles literally ringing in your ears from the different game booths.

"Too much?" Logan asks, pulling you to the side.

"No, it's just. I've never seen so many happy people all in one place." You admit. It was an contagious feeling, you wanted to explore everything. and be as happy as the people around you.

Logan takes you through the fair, not letting you go for a moment. He lets you play those rigged fair games for that teddy bear he could easily buy at some second hand store. But you want it so he pays the money. He does end up taking the last shot for you, using all his strength to knock down those damn bottles. Which he does but he also rips a whole in the tent and the tent behind it.

Oops. But you have that teddy bear now.

"I'm going to get us some food, you stay right here got it? No wandering." You nod as you sit on the wooden bench.

You're holding onto the bear waiting for him to come back when you hear someone crying. Through the noise of the fair you can pin point the quiet sobs. You know Logan told you to stay put but you can't ignore the cries. You get up and look around for the source, ducking behind one of the tents to see a little girl on the ground. She has tears streaming down her face clutching her knee.

"What's wrong?" You ask softly as you approach her. She looks scared and you try not to make things worse.

"I fell and hurt my knee and now I can't find my parents." She sniffs, wiping her eyes.

"Can I see your knee, I can help I promise." She looks unsure and so you take the teddy bear Logan won for you and hand it to her.

"This is Mr. Bear, he's a friend." She reaches out and takes him, petting his fluffy head and letting you get closer.

She hugs him tight as you gently rest your hands over her knee. Closing your eyes you hear her gasp as your hair starts to glow. When you open your eyes again her knee is healed. She stares at you in awe.

"You're magic!" She squeals as she stands up, her energy coming back in full force.

"I guess," She jumps into your arms, hugging you tightly. Suddenly she perks up, the frantic voice of an adult calling her name.

"That's my mommy, I should go." She hands you back Mr. Bear but you tell her to keep it.

She runs off to her mom and through the gaps of the tents you see her run into her arms. Her mom overjoyed at finding her again. Your heart sinks just a little, your own mother clawing her way back into your mind. Does she miss you? Did she even notice you were gone? You hear a tent rip and you turn around to see Logan pushing through the fabric. A panicked look on his face.

"Fuck! There you are." He grabs your arm and pulls you back out into the fair.

"I told you to stay put!" He sighs, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry...This little girl, she was hurt and I wanted to help." You wrap your arms around your body, afraid that Logan would be upset at you forever. He looks around and sees a familiar looking bear in a little girls hand. She was talking animatedly to her mother. He can pick up a few words. Magic, healing.

"That was dangerous to do sweetheart, you don't know what kind of people are out here." The worry in his chest isn't going anywhere as he sits down on the bench.

The fear that overtook him when he saw you were gone, fuck he hasn't felt that in a long time. His mind going to the worst places as he frantically searched for you.

"I know, I just couldn't leave her there." You say.

The truth is you had forgotten what the world was like to people like you. Your mother fed you lies for years about how horrible people were to those like you. Mutants. But for some reason when you're with Logan you feel safe. You feel like nothing can hurt you with him around. He's completely flipped your life upside down and you've loved every second. So for a moment you didn't even think of the danger of using your powers out in public. Not when you had Logan.

To your shock Logan pulls you into a hug. His arms wrapping around you tightly. You're here, you're okay. He tells himself. He can't fight it anymore, this feeling inside of him. Somethin in him has changed and it's all your fault.

He lets go far too soon your liking. Not saying a word as he hands you some food. You eat in silence, your knee bouncing up and down as you keep glancing at Logan.

"You don't like it?" He asks seeing how you've barely touched it.

"No no I do, I just...I guess I'm not that hungry." You push the tray of food back to Logan and he just sighs.

"Come on, I want to show you something." He stands up and holds out his hand.

Silently you let him lead you through the crowds until you've gone past the games and the food. Your jaw drops as you see the big wheel come into view. All of your worries are forgotten as you run towards it, Logan following close behind.

"Get in sweetheart, I'll be right there." You see him whisper something to the ride operator and hand him something before getting in next to you. You yelp as it starts to move. Slamming your back against the metal of the seat.

"It's okay, I got you." Logan lifts his arm and puts it around you, letting you stick to his side as the cart goes higher and higher.

You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest as you feel yourself getting higher up in the sky. A loud pop makes you screech and slide closer to Logan. He chuckles and gently tilts your head up to look at him.

"Check it out sweetheart, got the best view in the house." You slowly move your face to see big bright colors in the air. You let go of Logan and grab onto the metal bar. Leaning over it as you watch the bright colors shoot through the sky.

"Fireworks." You say breathlessly.

Every year the small city near by would launch these into the sky. Your mother always forced you to bed before night fall but you had your ways and would sneak all the way to the attic. Watching through the tiny window. You could only ever catch a glimpse but it was the highlight of your year, now here they are right in front of you.

"They're beautiful."

Red, Orange, Blue shimmers of light just light up the whole sky. The sky rumbles from the loud booms and the soft fizzles. You rest your head in your hands, utterly mesmerized by the scene in front of you.

Logan has seen a lot of fireworks in his day but these just might be his favorite. They're nothing special. Maybe a little bigger than he's scene before. But these are the ones to bring a smile to your face. You haven't stopped smiling since the show started. He wanted you as close as you could get and what better place than the top of the Ferris wheel.

There's colors lighting up the sky but his eyes are on you. He just can't help himself. Seeing you so happy, so at peace. It's all he wants. His own heart beats a little faster when you look back at him. Nothing but pure joy in that pretty smile.

"Gorgeous." He whispers. You look down at your lap, fighting the fluttering in your stomach.

"Thank you, for everything Logan. For showing me the world, for...for just being you." You don't think you could ever repay what Logan has done for you.

Everything feels so different now but it's a good different. The kind of different that makes you want to dig deeper to see just what has changed.

"I owe you more than you know sweetheart," Logan's rough hand covers yours. He gently takes lifts it off the metal bar and interlaces his fingers with yours, squeezing it gently.

"You asked when we first met why they sent me to come get you." His other hand reaches to cup your face. There's nothing but love and adoration in his eyes as he tilts your head up.

"The truth is I was lost." He doesn't want to spill everything but he needs to know what this whole trip, what you mean to him.

"The past couple of months it feels like I've been drowning, like I couldn't breathe. Until I met you. You look at the world with an optimism I haven't scene in so long. It's infectious. You're infectious."

"Is that a good thing?" You whisper, afraid to even move in fear of ruining this moment.

"Depends, I'm an old man sweetheart. If you don't mind that, if you don't mind me." He knows that he may not be the kind of person you've dreamed of. He's not exactly out of a storybook now is he?

"Logan...All I've known is the inside of that house. I didn't know what was out here," You glance back at the fireworks, at the people below you watching and laughing.

"But you showed me just what I've been missing and I could never thank you enough. I don't know why you felt so lost, but I'm glad it led you to me." Everything just feels right, your heart beating in time with his as he leans in.

Capturing your lips in a soft kiss. Now you don't know if the fireworks are in your head or if they're still going. You can't focus on anything but the feeling of his lips on yours. Both his hands now cupping your face as he deepens the kiss. Chasing after the fresh air that he's longed to breathe.

You reach up and tug on his jacket. Needing him closer to you. This, this is more than you could ever imagine. The stories don't do it justice. Words on paper could never have prepared you for this. For the feeling of his hands on your skin, the movement of his lips, the soft noises, the scent of cigars and honey, the desperation behind every single thing he does.

It couldn't have prepared you for the overwhelming flood of emotions swirling through your heart. It's brand new and you never wanted to it to end. It feels like an eternity passes by the time Logan finally pulls back, his lips still so close to yours. His chest rises and falls slowly. Maybe it's just the fair lights but you swear you see the red creeping up his face.

"What are you looking at?" You ask shyly. A giggle bubbling in your chest as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Just wondering how I got so lucky." He says sincerely. Seriously how? Maybe this was the worlds way of thanking him, for forgiving him for the sins of his past.

"I think I'm the lucky one." You kiss his wrist, resting your hand on his arm.

The ferris wheel lurches back into motion taking you both off guard. Logan grabs onto you quickly, pulling you into his chest as you slowly move back down to the ground.

It's like everyone else fades to the background as Logan guides you through the crowd. You're very aware of his hand in yours. You don't ever want to let go. But the fair has come to an end and it's time to leave. Though you don't think you'll ever forget today.

"Do we have to go back to New York already?" You ask as you rest your head against the car window.

"There's still so much I want to see." So much you want to see with Logan.

Logan taps on the steering wheel, he knows he'll have to return to the mansion eventually but he looks over and sees those pleading eyes.

"I don't think they're missing me too much, maybe a little longer." Your eyes light up and he just shakes his head, a smile on his face. Man is he fucked.

I'll be home soon Charles, if you can hear me.

As Logan pulls out of the parking lot he thinks back to what he was told before leaving. Take your time. Well he never specified just how much time. In fact, a small cabin up in Canada doesn't sound too bad right about now. But he'll take you there another day. For now, you have the whole world to explore. He rests his hand on your thigh and pulls out onto the freeway.

"So sweetheart, where do you want to go next?"

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #dofp logan #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 9 months ago

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TF141 taking you on a picnic date 💐

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

They're a little very all over the place because I wrote all of them on different days lol

I hope you'll enjoy it anyway <3

Some NSFW for all of them, but it's just a little bit at the very end, the rest is sweet fluff!!

Lmk who you would go on a picnic date with!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

John is such a romantic.

Maybe not the flashy kind, but in subtle and sincere ways. He would absolutely love to take you on a picnic date, he might even be more excited about it than you are.

You know how girls have those dreams of specific dates or scenarios??? Well, boys have that too, and this is John's. He finds the perfect spot, a secluded park with a field of wildflowers that bloom beautifully in the summer.

As ready as he was to organize the whole thing himself in the matter of a day, he'd adore to organize it with you. Write a grocery list, make some homemade goods, pack up the car. The domesticity makes his heart do flips.

"Do you reckon champagne would be too over the top?"

"John, honey, we're going on a picnic."

"Touchè."

And it's 100% fool proof.

This man has something planned for every single scenario because nothing will ruin this for him. He'll hold your umbrella while he gets soaked if he has to.

He hasn't asked you to marry him yet, but this seals the deal for him. He's already imagining going on a picnic like this on every single anniversary until you're physically unable to.

Did he overdo it a bit with the outfit? Maybe, but he couldn't care less about potential grass stains when his white button-down shirt and his beige slacks basically make you drool.

John insisted on a classic picnic basket, but he'll accept input regarding the pattern of the blanket. He's so utterly in love with you it's ridiculous. And when you come down the stairs in a flowy and floral sundress the blood in his body doesn't know where to rush first, his heart or his cock.

"Fucking hell, dove. You look divine."

He makes heart eyes at you but also has a raging hard on. What can he say? You keep him balanced.

John has to try so hard not to drop to his knees in front of you and beg. For what? He doesn't even know. It just feels like the right thing to do with you looking like a goddess. He loves it when he can press his nose against your soft mound all while his forehead rests on your pudgy tummy and your fingers card through his hair.

The drive there is lovely. The sun is out, it's a comfortable temperature, and the mood is high. The windows are rolled down, and you both sing along to music while his hand is planted firmly in yours. The location is even more beautiful than you thought. There's willow trees and all kinds of sweet smelling flowers accompanied by the symphony of busy bees and chirping birds.

After everything is set up, it's the best day of your life, probably. It's so so so nice.

And yes, he did bring the champagne.

Your head is in his lap while he strokes your hair and feeds you bits of cake. It's so romantic that it's sickening. SICKENING, I say. He's just so perfect. You talk and laugh, and it's so fun. T

he day goes by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, it's golden hour, and John swears you're heaven on earth. You're so pretty, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you silly, frankly.

So he does.

Just bristly and sloppy kisses wherever he can reach, your cheeks, jaw, neck. You shift your position, you're now lying down on the blanket, facing each other. The tips of your noses touch, and you're a tangled mess of limbs.

John wants to fuck you more than he ever wanted anything in his life, but he's a man of style, so rubbing you through your panties until your hips buck away from his hand will have to do until you get home and he can take care of you properly <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Johnny only wants to spend time with you. He doesn't care how.

He'll do anything to be by your side. Such a clingy bastard but we all love him for that. He loves being outside, and now he gets to let out his romantic side, too???? He's sold.

I'm also firmly convinced that he listened in on what his sisters gushed about in books or movies, and he uses that as his guideline for dates.

He makes sure there's a variety of different foods. Let's be honest he probably packed way too much, but he just wants to have options! Frankly, Johnny's is positively buzzing with excitement to get to spend such a lovely day with you.

As much as he loves to laze around with you on the couch, he needs air to breathe. So anything that's outside is an immediate yes from him. He's so so so excited that he doesn't shut up about it for days before the actual date.

Johnny is 100% one to overpack. He takes absolutely EVERYTHING, and you end up not even using half of it.

"I- Johnny??"

"Yeah, bonnie?"

"Why, for the love of God, did you bring a hazmat suit???"

"Ya never know!"

He will pack so many outdoor activities, like frisbee, badminton, a football, literally so much but you don't end up using any of it because he'll doze off as the sun shines down on the both of you.

He just can't help it! Your pudgy tummy is such a nice pillow, and the way your fingers rake through his mohawk and over his scalp nearly make his eyes roll into the back of his head.

He doesn't notice the smiles and nice looks the pair of you get from bypassers, but you can't help but giggle. It makes your belly jiggle, which in turn makes Johnny smile, still face down in your soft fat.

After he wakes up, though, there's a lot of talking that you'll happily listen to.

Corny jokes, overexaggerated stories from missions or his family, and from time to time, he'll get distracted by your pretty face with all its soft edges and kiss you.

Constant snacking. I mean, we all know the boys can EAT, but Johnny is such a foodie. Will eat everything and anything.

He also LOVES Irn Bru. It's definitely more of an... acquired taste, shall we say, but I think it's also very nostalgic for him.

He doesn't care what you wear. However, there are some things that get him feral. Sundresses are obviously on the list, but he adores long skirts. He likes how they flow when there's a nice breeze, and he thinks they make you look very elegant.

He will play into the whole Princess charade with long skirts or dresses.

"There's ma princess. Are ya ready to depart, m'lady?"

He will also bow very dramatically.

Undoubtedly, his favorite part of those skirts is when he gets to push them up your plush thighs and bury is face in your sweet cunt while the fabric is bunched up around your wide hips and fiddles with the hem because his goal is to bring you to bliss with his tongue only <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Kyle loves the water.

I don't know why, but I feel it in my bones. From streams and lakes all the way to the great big ocean. His casual style in the summer would definitely be coastal grandson, too.

So your picnic date would obviously take place in the vinicty of water. It's somewhere in a small park that has a nice big lake with lilypads and ducks swimming across it.

You'd be right by the shore, feet in the shallow water while you enjoy your lunch. Kyle is so sweet and considerate!

He'd bring you a bouquet of daisies and lovingly hold your hand in his. If it gets a little too breezy, he'll tuck you into his side and stretch his jacket over the both of you as much as he can.

He always brings you a new rock from that lake when he comes home from his morning run, and when you two are at the beach, he'll collect seashells with you.

It's all about balance and teamwork with Kyle. He makes the sandwiches while you whip up a quick sweet treat. You carry the basket while he has the blanket slung over his shoulder and your drinks in the other hand!

I feel like he'd really enjoy picnics, but they're not his favorite activity. He likes to explore a bit, just sitting around isn't quite his style. But it's nice to just sit and breathe sometimes.

For dates, he prefers the classic going out to dinner. Getting to see you all dressed up in the gentle atmosphere of a cozy restaurant makes his heart swell. But he won't ever deny you anything. Definitely not something as simple as a picnic.

A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he sees a little duck family waddling along the shore before they glide into the water.

"You think we'll have little ducklings of our own one day?"

You can only match his smile as you follow his line of sight.

"Who knows, maybe."

He pulls you close and presses a kiss to your temple. The picnic is starting to grow on him.

"... did you mean actual ducklings, or was it a metaphor for kids?"

"Both?"

As badly as you want to call him ridiculous, the mental image of Kyle with a duckling or a baby makes your heart beat with affection.

Also does not care what you wear, but he, too, has a weakness for sundresses as all men do. The way it hugs your ass, your tummy, and your supple tits makes him want to sink his teeth into your soft flesh.

An absolute sucker for a square neckline. No, I can not elaborate. You'll just have to take my word for it.

You watch the sunset together, the park becoming emptier as the light fades. He loves how you look during the golden hour and will gently hold your face to admire all your pretty features. Kyle likes that the park now only has the both of you and a pair of swans that swim over the lake like lovers.

What he loves even more is making you ride his slender fingers while the only sounds that fill the air is the chirping of cicadas and your heavenly moans while the remnants of the golden sun shine down on you making you look like a dream come true <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Simon isn't thrilled, let's say.

When he thinks of picnics he thinks of big open spaces, obnoxious people with annoying kids and uncomfortable wooden benches. Of which none are his cup of tea.

So you make compromises. Talk about it and ask what he would be okay with. He isn't the biggest fan of PDA, he's stuck between wanting to show off his love for you to the whole world and keeping it close to his heart like the sacred thing that it is.

But Simon perks up when you mention something about a lovely forest that's pretty secluded. Now that he can work with. Even though he's a born city boy, he'd much rather take a walk in a forest or on a little trail than on the busy streets of Manchester or London.

So he agrees, deciding that your excited reaction and thank you kisses were already worth it. He watches as you prepare the lunch you're taking with you, answering all your questions on what he'd prefer.

The truth, he'd eat rocks if your lovely hands prepared them.

He packs up the car and drives to the car park nearby, grumbling over the fee before it all melts away when he sees your smile.

The walk there on its own is nice. Holding your hand and listening to the birdsong that echoes along the tall trees. Of course, he's carrying everything.

You will never ever have to carry anything with him around, not on his watch. It's his way of repaying you for taking care of him and loving him. He would've carried you as well if you weren't so fussy about it.

When you set up the blanket and just lay down, it's the first time you think you've ever seen his shoulders untense on their own.

Simon's eyes even flutter shut, and his breath evens out.

It's just the two of you in a little glade with the vast green of the woods making your own little sanctuary.

Your head is on his shoulder, and his nose is buried in your hair.

"This.. this is nice."

He speaks so softly as if not to disturb the peace of nature. You can't help but smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you think so. It is really nice."

It's mostly pleasant silence after that with the occasional short conversation, but that's how you like it best.

When you hand him his lovingly prepared sandwich, he catches your chin between his fingers and kisses you so softly that you melt right into his touch.

"You're so patient with me, love. I appreciate it."

"Of course. A few compromises aren't the end of the world if it means you're happy."

He's a fucking goner, okay.

He loves it when you wear one of his sweat jackets or flannels over a nice dress. It's so obviously not yours which signals to other people that you're taken.

And considering the size and color of the thing, it's safe to assume it belongs to that hunk of a man always by your side.

He lays back onto the soft blanket and pulls you onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you. There are a few sun spots shining through the thick canopy of leaves, warming your skin.

You're half asleep, dozing off, ignoring the way he fiddles with his trousers until he pushes your panties to the side and sinks his thick cock into your pussy, having you warm his length. It makes him feel so impossibly close to you and his brain melts and before you know it, he's snoring beneath you, his dick buried inside of you <3

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I hope you liked it! <3

More CoD and other works -> 💫

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itsgrimeytime · 1 year ago

Text

feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?

TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]

With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-

Another one.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.

What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-

"Hey!"

You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.

"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.

Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.

"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.

"That was cool as shit!"

You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"

"Glenn!" He clarified.

Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"

"Nice to meet you!"

You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.

"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.

"Yeah?"

You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"

Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.

You froze, licking across your teeth.

And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-

He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.

"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"

"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"

None of them even flinched.

"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"

And then, a voice called out into the tense air.

"Y/N?"

You peeked over heads, looking, because-

Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"

You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)

Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.

"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"

With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"

"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.

"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.

You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."

Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.

"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."

She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"

Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)

She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.

And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"

"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.

You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.

And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.

"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.

"Whose askin'?"

That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.

Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.

"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."

Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.

Oh well, maybe next time.

"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."

Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-

You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.

You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.

"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."

There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.

Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"

I'd like to be loaded with-

"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."

He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."

I bet your-

You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"

Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."

That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.

You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.

"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.

Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."

You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."

"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.

"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."

Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."

"Shit," your smile fell.

"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.

"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.

"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.

Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."

"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."

She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."

"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.

"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."

He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.

Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.

You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"

Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."

"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"

She hummed, "I do."

"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."

Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?

"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."

"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"

"How did you-"

"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."

She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"

"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.

"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.

"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"

Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."

"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."

She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.

Time to get to work.

Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.

"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."

"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.

"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."

"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"

Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.

"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.

Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"

"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."

"An' ya want me to help decide?"

"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."

Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."

You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-

"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."

He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-

"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."

Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."

You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.

"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"

"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.

"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."

He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."

"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."

"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.

"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."

"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.

"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."

He grinned a little at you.

"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."

"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.

You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"

"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."

You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.

"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."

Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.

Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."

You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."

"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"

Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.

"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"

They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.

"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."

You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.

You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.

Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.

Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.

On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.

Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.

Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.

When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.

"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.

She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.

"Please, tell me-"

"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."

She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"

You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).

"Seriously?" She asked.

"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"

She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?

"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"

"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"

Huh.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."

Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"

"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.

He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.

"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.

You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."

He smiled a little, laughing.

Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.

He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"

"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."

Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"

"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."

"Ya got him somethin' too?"

He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.

You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.

"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"

"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."

On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.

"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"

"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."

You held it in your hands, showing to him.

"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."

Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.

You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.

There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.

You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.

"Ya awake?"

You didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."

There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.

"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.

You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"

"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."

You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"

"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.

"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."

Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.

Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."

He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.

You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.

"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"

You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.

"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."

Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.

You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)

"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"

Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."

You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.

With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.

You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-

Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.

"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"

"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.

Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.

You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.

Rick laughed.

"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."

He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.

"You want music or a movie?"

"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.

"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"

Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.

Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."

He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-

"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.

"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-

"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.

You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."

Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.

You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.

"I don't," you hummed.

"What?"

"I don't bite."

He laughed a little, "Good."

"Unless you want me to-"

And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.

You'd never really know.

Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.

You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.

"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.

"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."

"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"

"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.

"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"

She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."

"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"

Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."

"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"

"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.

Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.

You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.

"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).

"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."

"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"

"You are so-"

Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.

You turned to look who, and-

Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.

"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.

"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.

You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.

Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"

Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."

"How did I never think of that?"

"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.

You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."

She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."

"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.

Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.

"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"

"I ain't playing it with ya."

"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."

"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."

"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.

"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.

"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."

"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"

"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.

"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"

"What are the two of ya doin'?"

You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.

"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."

Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.

"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."

You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"

Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.

"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"

"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.

You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-

"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."

Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"

"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.

"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."

He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"

You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.

"Nope," Daryl answered.

And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."

Marry?

Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-

"Thought so," Daryl responded.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.

"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"

"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."

Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.

You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.

"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."

Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."

"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."

"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.

"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."

"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"

"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.

"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."

You hummed, wordlessly.

"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

She had a point.

"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"

You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"

She turned to you.

"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"

It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.

You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-

And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.

You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.

"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."

You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.

"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."

"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"

Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.

"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."

"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," you answered simply.

"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"

You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.

Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.

"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."

She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"

"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"

You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.

"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."

"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"

"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."

He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"

You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."

"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"

"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.

Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.

"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."

You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"

"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."

"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."

Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.

You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.

God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-

"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."

"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."

"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."

"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."

Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-

You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.

"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."

He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.

"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.

You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.

"Got so much to say to ya."

And then, it all faded to black.

This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?

And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-

"Y/N? Darlin'?"

You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?

"'S too fucking bright in here."

You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.

"'D turn it down for ya if I could."

You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.

Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.

Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.

You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"

"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.

"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"

"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."

"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"

"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."

You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."

Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.

"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.

You froze, "Since the prison?"

"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."

"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"

"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."

You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.

"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.

And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.

"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."

You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.

"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."

"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.

"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."

"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.

"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."

You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.

"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."

"The fond thing?"

"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."

"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"

"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."

"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."

"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"

And then you looked at him.

"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"

"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"

His face got a little more serious.

"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."

You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"

"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."

You just stared.

"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"

You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.

"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."

"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."

"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."

"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"

"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."

You fell quiet.

"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."

"Anything?"

Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."

"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.

He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."

You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"

"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."

"Ya would," he agreed.

And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.

Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"

He smiled at you.

"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."

"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.

"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."

You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"

"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."

You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.

"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."

You stared at him, wordless.

Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"

"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."

All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?

"'Thought you said it was obvious?"

"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."

You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"

He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."

"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."

Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"

"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."

"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"

"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.

"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.

"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."

Mission accomplished.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot

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oh-phoenixx · 2 months ago

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"Crown" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 549 words

Since James and Regulus had started dating, their respective friend groups had been intermingling quite frequently. This was entirely James’s fault, of course, saying that he had to make Regulus’s friends like him. It would not be an easy feat, as they were insanely protective, and were determined to hate James. Despite himself, Regulus believed that James would convince them to love him. Merlin knows he had somehow convinced Regulus.

Although Regulus was grateful that James wanted to know his friends, he did not enjoy being around a big group of people nearly every day. Currently, Regulus was spending his Saturday afternoon reading in the grass, a little ways away from the castle. This would be ideal, of course, if there weren’t eleven other people around him, including his brother and Barty, who did not know how to sit still or be quiet for more than three seconds.

Regulus laid his book open on his chest, closing his eyes. James’s fingers carded through Regulus’s hair where his head was on James’s lap. “You okay?”

“Mhm, just too noisy,” Regulus mumbled, leaning into James’s touch, only for James to pull away. Regulus let out a little whine that he really hoped no one else heard.

James started doing something above Regulus, leaving Regulus to look around at their friends. It was an odd group of people, really, though they had been getting along surprisingly well. It was nice, in a way, to see Sirius spending time with Regulus’s friends. He just wondered why it had taken James’s asking for Sirius to even talk to them, why Regulus had not been good enough to try for.

James placed something on Regulus’s head, making him look up to attempt to see it. “What is that?” He asked, eyes narrowed.

“It’s a flower crown!” James answered happily, moving some of Regulus’s hair out of his face. Regulus just smiled up at him, shaking his head a little but making no move to remove the crown. He reached up a hand to trace James’s jaw, causing the older boy to lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Told you I’d get you to do the Spider-Man kiss with me.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. Only James Potter… “That hardly counts.”

Fake retching noises made the two look away from each other and towards Sirius, who was clutching his stomach as though he was going to vomit. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Reggie, this isn’t fair,” Pandora interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest. “I made you a flower crown once and you took it off straight away.”

“Oh my god, Regulus has gone soft,” Dorcas laughed.

“Says you,” Regulus muttered. “You’re no better.” Which was fair, because she had Marlene sitting in her lap, her arms wrapped securely around the Gryffindor.

“Regulus has gone soft,” Barty repeated, grinning.

Regulus frowned and looked up at James, knowing they were right. James had softened him, though Regulus wasn’t entirely convinced it was a bad thing. Unlike much else in his life, James made Regulus kinder, gentler. It was not something he enjoyed having pointed out, but it was not untrue, and deep down he didn’t think it was anything to be ashamed of. He had James Potter, how could he ever be ashamed of that?

#marauders era #marauders #james potter #james fleamont potter #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #marauders microfic #jegulus microfic #starchaser microfic #microfic #jegulus fluff #james x regulus #phoe writes #jeggyverse microfic

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writerthreads · 6 months ago

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How to lock in & get productive (and some general advice)

By Writerthreads on Instagram

I know this isn’t a usual writing post but it is writing-adjacent! I’ve recently fallen into a slump where I just can’t seem to focus after lectures a s long dissection sessions. To help solve this problem, I consulted books, the internet, and my experience for ways to lock the f*ck back in.

Eat the Frog

“Eat the frog” comes from a quote often attributed to Mark Twain:

“If it’s your job to eat a frog, it’s best to do it first thing in the morning. And if it’s your job to eat two frogs, it’s best to eat the biggest one first.”

Do the scariest, hardest task of the day first to get it out of the way. This starts the day off on a good note and builds momentum for your whole day.

The Rule of Three

Start each day by deciding the three most important things you want to accomplish. Focusing on just three tasks keeps you from feeling overwhelmed and helps direct your energy.

The 2-Minute Rule

If a task takes two minutes or less, do it right away. This prevents small tasks from piling up and clears mental clutter, making room for more significant tasks.

Time Blocking

Allocate specific time blocks to specific tasks or categories of tasks.

Switching between tasks lowers productivity, so group similar tasks (eg. emails or admin work) together to maintain focus. This ties into:

Batch Processing

For tasks like answering emails or organizing files, batch them together and complete them in one go, so you can get into the flow state and finish repetitive tasks faster.

Pomodoro Technique

Work for 25 minutes, then take a 5-minute break. My variation is doing 25/5, then switching to 50/10 because it takes me some time to get into the flow state and the 25/5 ends it abruptly at times.

Review Your Day and Reflect

At the end of each day, take a few minutes to review what went well, what didn’t, and how you can improve. Celebrate your wins and reflect on how you can do better tomorrow.

Organise Your Workspace and Digital Space

A clean and organized environment reduces distractions and boosts focus. Regularly clear your workspace, organize files, and declutter, and then it into a habit.

General Advice

Touch grass daily: nature helps with relaxation and grounds you

Do something social every day: humans are innately social creatures. Talk to your family and friends and stay in contact with them :)

Exercise, eat & sleep well: it might be hard, but try your best to get 150 minutes of exercise weekly, and eat as healthily as you can. And don’t forget to sleep! (Which is hilariously hypocritical coming from a medic)

It’s ok if you have an off day! Sometimes a slow day is just your body telling you that you need a break.

Keep up with your hobbies: life can get busy and prevent you from enjoying what you love. Set aside some time every week to peruse your hobbies. To do this, I plan out all my fun activities then arrange my studying and working around the time for hobbies & rest.

Find a role model/mentor: do you look up to someone and want to be more like them? If they’re someone you aspire to be, or someone you want to learn from, tell them that you would love for their mentor.

Surround yourself with people who help you grow and make you happy. Since uni started, I realised that you don’t need to be friends with everybody, and that you can be more selective of who you spend time with.

To help me remember my goals, I have a Pinterest board that I made before the semester started. This could be something that could work for you too!

What other productivity tools or hacks work for you? Lmk in the comments, I would love to learn more from you guys!!

#productivity #productivityboost #focus #healthy habits #self help #mental health #health and wellness #wellness girl #that girl #inspiration #growth #mindset #personal development

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bluemerakis · 2 months ago

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@handkinkbis you are genuinely insane 😭🙏 you come onto a post that has NOTHING to do with you—ATTACKING the OG poster while you try to push your narrative onto content that has NOTHING to do with it. and after being told NUMEROUS times to move the FUCK on, you insist on staying and resorting to feeble fucking insults that try and villainise US? you’re talking for the sake of talking while not having a single FUCKING clue about what any of the words you’re using means.

and then you come for my fucking neck with a post like this instead of messaging me if you really had something to say? you’re bold for acting the fucking dick behind your screen after YOU started an unnecessary argument. and ouch, i’m so wounded that you resorted to calling me both misogynistic and a bigot all because i’m calling you out on your erratic fucking behaviour. i’m neither one of those things and for you to stoop to the level of an uneducated, impulsive MAN with these insults is actually stupidly ironic.

if you’re so easily offended by a post thirsting over a FICTIONAL MAN and modern day humour, stay off tumblr. or at the very least, stay off the side of tumblr that’s CLEARLY marked as fiction. you’re going around looking for fights by surfing a tag that you apparently hold so much distaste for. this app ain’t your fucking church, so stop trying to preach to the masses like you’ve got an ounce of valuable shit to say.

go touch some grass and keep my blog out of your fucking mouth.

edit: telling me to enjoy my next KKK meeting when i’m a person of colour is an INSANE thing to say 😄 i hope you find some peace in your deeply disturbing life. you’re doing nobody good by coming onto tumblr and aggressively harassing everybody about politics under literal thirst posts for shits and giggles. and to blatantly start calling ppl all sorts of insults and deciding FOR them that they’re not feminists—or at the very least RESPECT women—is crazy. get a life and stop harassing others. 🙏

edit 2: also repeatedly commenting that i called you and other women a wh*re and cunt when i did no such thing 😭 don’t make me pull out the evidence of my comments. i called you a HOE bc HOE IS YOU CRAZY?? another beautiful internet joke that apparently doesn’t wander into your side of the wacko world. don’t try to make me look like i’m the twat by saying that i generalised theoretical women into being whores and cunts when i didn’t say any of that. i called YOU a bitch because you are a colossal bitch. you own the fucking term. good night

#weirdo alert !!! 🚨#mera talks .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆. ˚

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scary-grace · 3 months ago

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Designated Villain - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You loved BNHA's ending, mostly, but a few weeks after the last chapter is published, you get isekaied into BNHA on the day the story begins. That would be a dream come true, except you ended up in the body of a common criminal, and instead of enjoying life in your favorite fictional world, you find yourself struggling to survive in a world that's much crueler than you ever imagined. Armed with nothing more than BNHA Tumblr brainrot and a highly suspicious iPod Shuffle, you set out to fix the few things that are wrong with BNHA's ending. But as you learn more about the villains you hated and every change you make pushes the plot further off the canon storyline, it's not long before your feelings about the ending start to change. (cross-posted to Ao3)

(dividers by @cafekitsune)

Chapters: 1 2

Chapter 1

You stare down at the screen of your phone, not so much in disbelief as amusement. You’ve been debating back and forth with somebody on Tumblr for the last day or two, and while you were in therapy talking about how you’re going to end the argument by being more mature than they are, they went full copypasta unhinged on you. And over what? A post you made about BNHA, and BNHA’s ending. A post that was a joke. But some people are still bent out of shape about an ending they should have seen coming from a mile away. BNHA is about heroes. The person you’re arguing with should have known better than to stan the villains.

Not that they’d ever recognize that they’re the problem. They’re too busy trying to call you out for caring more about Deku losing his quirk and Bakugou crying about it than you do about the death of a villain who killed thousands of people. In spite of your desire to be the bigger person here, you’re starting to get annoyed. Who do they think they are, telling you you’re compassionless? You’re really compassionate. You care about other people. You help your friends and you’re nice to strangers. Just because you think Shigaraki — a mass murderer — got what was coming to him doesn’t make you cruel. They’re the dumb one for ignoring all the people who suffered because of the temper tantrum Shigaraki threw.

You keep scanning the reblog, and right there at the bottom of it there’s two sentences that makes you see red. You think you’re better than they are, but you’re wrong. If what happened to them had happened to you, you’d end up just like them.

Screw being the better person. You type out a response of your own. They made a choice to be villains. I’d never choose that in a million years.

They’re probably going to respond with something even more unhinged, and you don’t want to hear it. You block them and tuck your phone into your back pocket. You’ve got better things to do than fight with some internet loser who needs to go outside and touch grass. You don’t need to touch grass. You’re a college student with a 3.8 average and a campus job and a social life, and you know right from wrong as well as anybody who doesn’t spend all day reading villain smut on Ao3. Compassionless? No way. You start the walk back to campus and try to put it out of your mind.

It’s been a few weeks since BNHA ended. You liked the ending. Sure, you were a little disappointed that none of your ships ended up canon, and maybe you wanted to see a lot more of Hawks than you got to, but it was a good ending. Hero society came back better than before, and Deku gets to be a hero, and the stupid villains get to rest in peace instead of rotting in prison forever. What did that moron think would have happened if their blorbos had lived? Nothing good. The ending they got was the best they could ask for.

You almost stumble, then glance down to see a crack in the sidewalk. A really big crack. Somebody should fix that. You avoid it, then avoid the next one, which wasn’t here the last time you walked this way. Cracks in the sidewalk don’t usually show up that fast. And they aren’t usually that big. You pick up the pace a little bit, keeping your eyes on the sidewalk in front of you so you won’t trip again. Tripping and falling is bad enough. Doing it because you were too stupid to watch where you’re going is even worse.

But you could have been looking from a mile away, and you still wouldn’t have been able to avoid the next crack that opens up. It’s enormous, even bigger than the others, and it’s spreading right before your eyes, widening out from the gutter until it consumes half the sidewalk. You stare at it in horror. What is happening?

It doesn’t matter. It’s still big enough to step over. Or jump over, if you don’t hurry up. You take one step back, then two, readying yourself to jump the crack in front of you. It’s getting wider. You need more of a running start.

But when you take a third step back, your foot lands on empty air, and you’ve got too much momentum to stop yourself from tumbling backwards. You brace yourself for the landing, already beating yourself up for being so dumb, but you don’t land. The concrete doesn’t rush up to meet you. Instead you keep falling, through a crack in the sidewalk that you didn’t even see, without even a chance to call for help.

You call out anyway — you’ll need help getting out — but no one comes, and you’re still falling. The sky dwindles rapidly away from above you, and you reach out to either side, grabbing for anything that could check your fall. But there’s nothing. No pipes, no roots, no chunks of rugged concrete that you could get a grip on. You’re falling into a void, so deep and dark that it swallows your screams for help completely. No one’s coming to help you. No one saw you fall, and even if they did, there’s nothing they can do. You scream until your throat goes raw, thrash desperately in midair, and all you manage to do is flip yourself over so you’re falling face-first instead of back-first, and then over so you’re falling back-first again. There’s nothing below you. Only blackness. You close your eyes.

It feels like you’ve been falling forever by the time you land, and you land hard. So hard that you’ve got an instant headache, so hard that you bite your lip and your mouth fills with blood. You’re sprawled out on concrete, and bright, flashing lights are filling your vision. An ambulance? A surge of relief overtakes you, and you start trying to sit up.

“Holy shit,” someone says from nearby, and confusion pierces through you. They aren’t speaking your native language. They’re speaking — Japanese? “Hurry. Before she gets away!”

Get away? Who’s getting away? You look around, trying to see who the man — the police officer? — is talking about. A hand comes down on your shoulder. A knee strikes hard into the center of your back. You barely have a second to turn your head before you’re slammed flat onto the concrete again.

“Stop resisting,” another voice says. This one’s speaking Japanese, too. Whoever it is grabs your arms and twists them behind your back, one after another. “It’s over. Don’t make me hurt you.”

What is going on? You feel metal around your wrists and hear the distinctive click of handcuffs being locked into place. They’re cuffing you? Why? You’re hurt. You need help. “I’ll call for transport,” the police officer says. “Damn. I thought she was dead for sure. That would have been a ton of paperwork for you, Woods.”

“She ran from me. I pursued her.” Woods’s voice sounds weirdly familiar to you. “Only a criminal would think jumping out a window was a good alternative to facing justice for their crimes.”

“She jumped, huh?” You don’t recognize the third voice. You hear a camera shutter, click. “Backwards, out a fourth-story window? That’s not what I saw.”

“No one cares what you saw. Get out of here,” the police officer says. You hear sirens in the distance. “This is a crime scene. Stop snapping photos.”

The shutter clicks again. “This street hasn’t closed. I have a right to be here. And I think people have a right to know what happens when criminals are apprehended. Nonviolent criminal knocked out a window by Kamui Woods. Catchy headline, don’t you think?”

Kamui Woods. You turn your head, trying to get a better look, but he’s behind you. The texture of the hand gripping your arm isn’t skin, it’s wood. Kamui Woods. Everyone speaking Japanese. Another shutter clicks, and this time, you see the man who’s taking the photos. But he’s not holding a camera. There’s a lens protruding from the outstretched palm of his hand. “She used her quirk on me,” Kamui Woods is saying, and you feel a scream rise in the back of your throat. “I would have been able to catch her if she hadn’t.”

The sirens come closer. An ambulance skids to a stop, and Kamui Woods and the police officer start to haul you upright before the EMTs stop them. They roll you roughly over and load you onto a stretcher, discussing your transport to the nearest designated hospital, and all the while the shutters click on the bystander’s camera, taking picture after picture after picture. All you can do is lie there, frozen with horror, as the true picture of what’s happening dawns on you. You don’t know how you got here. You don’t what happened before you hit the ground. But you’re pretty sure you’ve somehow fallen into the world of BNHA, a world of heroes and villains and quirks. And you’re not a hero, or a civilian. You’re a criminal. You’re a villain.

You vacillate on the conclusion at least eight times on the transport to the hospital — a villain hospital, not one for normal people. BNHA is fictional. It’s not real. Getting isekaied is something that happens in manga and anime, not to real people in real life. You tripped and fell on the sidewalk. You probably hit your head. This is probably all a hallucination. Any second now you’ll wake up in a normal hospital in your world and everything will be fine.

Except you’ve hallucinated before — one time when you were sick as a little kid, one time in your freshman year when you drank something that definitely had something more than alcohol in it — and when you’re hallucinating, your senses are dulled. You didn’t feel pain, and right now, you’re in a ridiculous amount of it from a fall you apparently took out a fourth-floor window. A fall nobody expected you to have survived. You, or whoever the person whose body this is was before.

The pain isn’t your only evidence. You know a little Japanese, like any self-respecting weeb, but you’re nowhere close to fluent, and right now you are. You’re not speaking with an accent or stumbling over words — your Japanese sounds like everyone else’s, like you’re a native speaker. And at the same time, you’re not thinking in Japanese. You’re thinking in your native language. Even when you think about whatever happened to lead you up to that window.

That’s your next piece of evidence. Memories. Memories that don’t feel like yours, but are yours — a whole life you haven’t had even a second to sort through. So far, the evidence that you’ve been isekaied is pretty compelling. You’d be a lot more excited about getting isekaied into your favorite anime if you weren’t apparently a criminal.

Isekais aren’t your favorite genre, but you’ve read and watched enough of them to know that most people don’t just get isekaied for fun — and that the type of person you wind up as in the target media is kind of important. In a story that’s all about heroes, you wound up as a villain. And you don’t know when you wound up. BNHA is over in your world. Are you here after the story ends? Or before?

The hospital they take you to is awful, dingy and dimly lit — and it’s packed. You don’t remember the hospitals in the anime looking this bad, but then you remember that you’re a criminal, and this is a designated villain hospital instead of a normal one. You saw a Tumblr post getting bent out of shape about villain hospitals a while back, and you remember rolling your eyes. Villain stans are the most dramatic people on the internet. But as the EMTs park you in a corner of the ER and seclude you behind a stained curtain, you realize that whoever was making the post wasn’t exactly wrong. This hospital is subpar. You spend an hour cuffed to the gurney, an increasingly crabby police officer watching over you, before someone comes to take a look at you.

Your injuries are…injuries. They’re not consistent with a fall like the one you had, and the doctor who examined you asks if you have a regeneration quirk. You’ve been so consumed by the fact that you’re apparently a villain that you haven’t even thought about what your quirk is, even though you and your friends have spent literal hours analyzing what your quirks would be. “It’s not regeneration,” the cop says. “Some kind of flash-bang thing. She just got lucky.”

“Right. Where’s she headed after this?”

“The prefectural jail, so don’t prescribe anything she can sell.”

You’re going to jail. Panic wells up within you, and words spill out of your mouth — in frantic and flawless Japanese. “What are my charges?”

“The judge will work that out. How hard did you hit your head?” The cop sneers. “I’ve seen your rap sheet. You know the drill.”

You have a rap sheet? Incidents flash through your memory, but you need time to study them, to get your story straight, and you don’t have time. “I don’t,” you say desperately. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m not — I might look like — I’m not. I’m from –”

Your mouth clamps shut of its own accord, cutting you off. When you try to speak a second time, your jaw clenches tight. What is happening to you? You cough, clear your throat, try again. “I’m someone else,” you start through clenched teeth. “My name is –”

You feel a quick, bright snap, a flash of light behind your eyes, and your mind goes dark. When you wake up again, the cop is gone, and there’s a student nurse in watching you. You have an IV in the back of your left hand. The nurse looks up when you stir. “Seizure,” she says. Your stomach drops. “We took you to CT while you were out. Nothing’s broken up there, but they’re going to keep you overnight anyway. It sucks, but better than jail, right?”

“Right,” you echo. This nurse seems like she hates you less than the others have. Maybe you can get some answers — like where you are in relation to the story. You could ask her which year it is, but you don’t actually remember what year BNHA starts in. “Um, who’s the number one hero right now?”

“All Might, duh,” the nurse says. “How hard did you hit your head?”

“I just — are you sure?” You have confirmation that it’s the All Might era, which overlapped at least a little with the Kamui Woods era. “Is he doing okay?”

“Of course he is. Better than ever.” The nurse pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Here. This is what he did today.”

The video’s blurry at first. The person who’s holding the camera is moving around a lot, either trying to get a better angle or to get away. But eventually it focused, and through the smoke and the fire flickering at the edges of the screen, you can make out three figures. One’s a monster, huge and gelatinous, and there’s another, smaller figure trapped within it. And a third, even smaller figure streaking towards them both, already pulling his backpack from his shoulders.

Your mouth goes dry. “This was today?”

“Yep! This afternoon,” the nurse says. She takes her phone back. “Nobody’s as good as he is. He’d never let anybody be hurt on his watch. Not even somebody like you.”

Somebody like you. That stings, but in the face of the knowledge you’ve just gained, you can barely feel it. You didn’t get here after the story begins, you got here the same day it begins. That has to mean something, right? You’re certain it does. There’s something you need to do, some reason you’re here. But if that’s true, it also means there’s a reason you were brought here as a villain. You know how the world of BNHA treats villains, which is fine when the villains deserve it. Even before you’ve actually gone through your mental rap sheet, you know for sure you don’t. So step one is to clear your name. That should be easy, as soon as you can explain what happened.

You look to the nurse. “I’m not who you think I am,” you say. Your jaw clenches tight again and you force it open. “I don’t belong here.”

The others ignored you. She gives you a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“I come from –” Another country? Yes. Another world, that too? A world where her world is just a story? “A world without –”

There’s that snap again, like the sound of a bone breaking. The world whites out, and you wake up in intensive care this time. It takes two more seizures, two more heavy doses of Ativan dumped into your veins, before you realize what’s causing them: Trying to talk about your past, about who you really are. It’s not just that you shouldn’t, or can’t. It’s that your mind shuts down when you try to force the issue. You’ve never heard about that happening in an isekai before, and as you lay there in the hospital, your head swimming from the anticonvulsants, you feel foreboding settle deep into the pit of your stomach. You can’t tell anyone, anything. Clearing your name is going to be a lot harder than you thought.

part 2 ->

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #x reader #reader insert #man door hand hook car door #isekai humiliation tour #a bisquared production

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velvet-paradox · 3 months ago

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Secured (Part One)

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: wanting a little slower pace in his military career, König takes a calmer, desk job while he recovers. After a bit of a mix up on shifts, König is now in charge of what comes next. (I've been watching The Night Agent and got inspired!) Length: Medium Warnings: explicit content, strong language, eventual NSFW. ENJOY!

König had fully intended to listen to his mother's concerns the last time he visited her cozy little cottage on the hillside. Tended-to garden, trimmed up grass from the helpful lads that lived just down the road. He'd been injured, shot in the shoulder where conditioned muscle met bone, got treated and sent home with strict orders to take it easy.

Relax.

Live a little.

And he did just that.

Enjoying his time with is mother, resurfacing memories of when he was a boy, less scarred and jovial then the man posted up on her afghan covered couch. Physical therapy was bitch, even a pint couldn't stoke off the fire that burned into his joints.

He was also enjoying homecooked meals and not the usual mess hall offerings or freeze dried lumps they'd slap tantalizing names on the plain, brown packaging, as the stuff inside were actually up to snuff.

Ja right!

"You ought to settle down now , König. You have been fighting for most of your life, you should be living, traveling and seeing the world with the love of your life under arm. Don't you want that?"

Of course he did.

Most of his life were acts of service, finished deeds, quotas. Filling out paperwork, signing classified documents, pursuing the worst of the worst, taking down targets, letting his life on the actual line for the greater good.

Did a certain foreign dictator need to be 'rescued' from their senate floor and taken to an undisclosed location and threated, beaten and broken for an extended amount of time until intel was finally given through broken teeth and a bloody jaw? Perhaps.

Was a 'missing' senator maybe not so missing after all under the clutches of the Austrian and with good reason, added sex trafficking was highly frowned upon and under his high ranking position too? Not on his watch.

Yes blood was on his hands, in his hair, in his mouth but those same hands wanted to also be washed clean, to hold another, to touch another.

Sometimes he'd feel unworthy, all these acts, all these years in the military formed the man laying in his bed, the same four walls that molded him, crafted him like clay. That maybe all his hard work wasn't worth all the damage. His shoulder screamed when rubbed his hands over his face.

….

"How she doin'?" Sebastian Krueger asked the following morning, sipping tea from one his mothers' glass cabinets, sitting across from König at a little table and chair set behind the cottage. He'd already eaten two biscuits was not so subtly eyeing the third one of the decorative plate.

"Mother is well, she'll be back from the market soon. You should stay for dinner, I have half a mind that she is trying to fatten me up like some Christmas goose!"

"You know I wasn't going to say any-"

"Then don't!"

Krueger chuckled and broke off half the biscuit instead.

"She must be happy to have you home for a bit, not off on field duty."

"A little too happy," König took a long, hot sip, savoring the honey on his tongue. "She thinks I should settle down, find a partner, live life while I still can."

"Is she wrong?"

"Nein. I want those things as well, Seb. I just don't know where to start! I've been on deployment after deployment, cots, and safe houses since I was seventeen. How do I talk to a woman about a life like that? One isn't going to just fall into my lap, you know?"

"I could set you up with someone if you like?"

"Yeah right," König snorted and finished his tea. "I'm not taking fucking dating advice from you."

"Why not?" Krueger eyed him, expression laden all the way up to his hairline.

"Because smart pants, you don't know any women to set me up with!"

Krueger pondered his words, eyes narrow, mouth opening and closing, lost in thought he just grunted and finished off the rest of that biscuit in defeat.

"It is smarty pants by the way!"

König heard Sebastian shout as he made his way through the threshold of the open back door to refill their cups.

….

Four months.

Four months of softly changing his sheets, helping his mother about the house, going for runs through the jagged hills, splashing his face with fresh creek water, chewing on wild growing ramps. Bringing back little rocks to add to his mother under-window flower beds, he'd done so since he was a knee high boy. She had saved them all of course.

He was starting to lose his mind, the pain meds his doktor had prescribed sat half full on the nightstand, he took them as needed but for the most part he punished himself, testing his own pain tolerance as means of an endurance challenge of sorts. He needed to do something, anything, to get out of the house.

Sebastian suggested he come back to work, take a desk job, fill out reports, that sort of thing to make his life a little more interesting until he was medically cleared for field operations.

"I know of another type of job, real laid back, you don't have to do too much physically." Kruger had mentioned one sunny, yet cold afternoon.

"Like what?"

"Ever heard of Night Division?"

"Nein, I have not." König had answered, a query on his mask covered face. Sounded interesting.

"There is a reason for that, it is a top secret op, need to know basis," Krueger pulled him in close on their walk through the base, stopping by the archway that lead to the rec room. "If you want in, let me know, I'll get you clearance and I'll walk you through it. If not; not harm, no foul."

König considered it, contemplated it for the rest of the day. He was feeling a bit down, his shoulder throbbed something fucking fierce every fours or so, letting him know he was still in the healing stages, still on the mend. But a cushy little desk job, keep him occupied, maybe he could get caught up on a few books he'd started and had to put down or leave behind, relax at a desk like he had when he first started out after basic. He could do something like that.

Sebastian was right; this job would keep dinner on the table and the lights on. It was simple enough as well, answer the phone when it rang and flashed burnt orange (according to Krueger this phone hadn't actually rung in two months). Monitor the actions, pay attention to the caller in need of assistance, ask the appropriate questions in order to render aid.

König brought a thermos and a water bottle full of ice. He was afforded a notepad and pen, a binder in the top right drawer of a silver desk, the left held a rolodex of people who might be calling in need.

He'd been at it for two weeks now, no phone calls, caught up on three books already as he reclined back in the softest office chair he's ever sat his behind in. Ankles locked, boots on the table reading, belly full. Then it happened.

The phone rang, a shrill sound that damn near rocked him right out of that chair! His book fell to the floor, loosing his page instantly. The orange flashed urgently as König scrambled to get out his notebook to take notes and location, the binder that held random question whoever was on Night Division duties to ask to make sure they were truly talking to who they were supposed to. The phone number as Krueger had told him was only given out to military, not a simple phone number one might find scribbled on a folded up post-it or bar napkin.

König cleared his throat and picked up the receiver, holding it tightly to his ear.

"Hallo, what is the color of the day?" König asked, clicked pen at the ready and pressed onto the first page.

"What? I don't know! I need help." A frantic woman hushed her voice into the phone, he could some shuffling and light grunting.

"Ma'am, I need the color of the day before I can assist you."

"I don't fucking know! Please help me." The woman gasped and he could hear something close.

"Miss this is a very secure line-"

"I know that. Night Division, right? My brother said if anything suspicious happened while he was deployed, I should call this number immediately. Which is what I am doing!"

"Without the color, miss-"

"Please, sir. There's two people breaking into the house, their looking for something. I don't want them to find me. There's a crawl space in my brothers' closet, that's where I am." The woman rasped, panic in her voice made König uneasy, things could get messy fast, he knew that first hand.

"I do not know your location."

"There's a rolodex in the top left drawer of your desk, my brothers' name and address are in there. And hurry!" She growled lowly.

"Name?"

"[REDACTED]."

"I'll send over someone."

"What? You're not coming?" The woman almost sounded offended, as if he had stood her up on a date or backed out of a last minute party.

"This is my station, miss. I can't leave my post, another call might come through."

The pregnant pause made him even more uneasy, as he wrote down the boyfriend's name and address with three scratches of his pen below it.

"I don't want to die like this." The woman exclaimed with a sniffle.

….

Much to König's surprise when he told his supervisors that a phone call had come in, he didn't realize that meant he was the one to answer it meant that in the very sense. Another selected Night Division advocate would take his place.

They handed him a standard service weapon, shoved a bullet proof vest to his bulky chest and sent out on his way. He even got to pick which company car from the lot. The SUV handled beautifully, the screen on the dash showing the coordinates to the Division caller. He cut the lights as he turned down the block, a quiet, wet residential street. Most of the cars were put away in their garages, all but one.

König memorized the plate, just in case things got hairy.

He could see movement in the house, shadows dancing in the low light. He narrowed his eyes, and softly exited the vehicle, approaching the house like the thieves already inside. König maneuvered around the back of the house, rolling his bad shoulder before kicking open the back door. He could hear muffled voices from inside, startled footsteps, a new magazine is put into a weapon that stands no chance against the man advancing in the darkness, especially when he flips down his night vision goggles.

"Whoever the hell you are, you owe me a new door asshole!" A raspy man calls in the dark.

"Sorry. Are you [REDEACTED]?" König asked, already knowing the answer.

"Who?"

"Didn't think so!"

König held his gun steady as rain, aimed true at one of the intruders. The man before him was crouched and steadily raising to his feet in the foyer, hands up.

"Do not do anything stupid, well more stupid than breaking into someone's house."

"Easy big guy, [REDACTED] is my brother, he asked me to check on the place while he's on vacation."

"Vacation, ja? Where to?"

"Uh Spain I believe he said." The man mumbled something.

"Then why are you in the dark? Go ahead and turn the lights." König suggested.

The man reacted by reaching behind him and swiftly pulled out a blade, the metal glinting in the darkness.

Big mistake.

Though König is on the larger scale in terms of height and weight, he is quite agile, a superb trait and bonus to his career. The blade came right at him but was easily slapped away by his gloved hand, the man reached back for another but ever the observant Austrian, he located the light switch panel next to him, flipped up his goggles and whacked the room into brightness, exposing everyone to the white hot lights. A woman tried to bum rush him and failed as she made a distressing sound when she hit the floor, her loosely held gun skidded away.

The second attempt at throwing a blade stuck to the wall beside him, König ripped it out of the dry wall and threw it back at the man in the foyer, landing perfecting in the shoulder. The man wailed out in pain, the woman scrambled for the gun only to slide it further out of reach.

König pointed his gun and undid the safety.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the woman looked up at his towering frame, her head jerked slightly and she slowly put her hands up. "Get your little friend and leave, you wish to wake up tomorrow do you not?"

They left without a fuss while König cleared the rest of the house. Not too much damage, the office behind the French doors was a mess though and going to be a bitch to put back in order but that wasn't his problem.

"Miss?" König called out after finishing his sweep of the first floor.

"Miss you can come out now. We talked on the phone. Night Division. You're safe now."

As he made his way up the staircase, lined with paintings of landscapes and bodies of water, the door to his immediate right swung open and the woman appeared.

"Oh!" She was startled, no doubt by his mask and head coverings, by the way he was steadily putting away his service weapon. His size in comparison to hers.

Her eyes went wide and she slightly hugged the doorframe, a baseball bat in hand. Her expression ranged from frightened, to skeptical, to calm in an ease of seconds.

"I didn't mean to startle you." König apologized.

"It's not.. sorry. You're who I spoke with. Are there more of you?" She asked peering around him, or at least what she could, clutching her cellphone and bat.

"Just me I'm afraid."

"Oh. Did you kill them?"

"Maimed."

"Good. I don't think there's enough peroxide to clean that up."

"You've cleaned up blood before?"

"You do see that I'm a woman, right? I've been cleaning up blood since I was twelve." The woman cocked her head to the side with a snort and dropped the bat down to her side.

König got the OK to clear the rest of the second floor, just in case. All was well and he followed her down the stairs, pointing out the mess the intruders had made of the office.

"You mentioned they were looking for something. Did you hear what exactly?" He asked from the doorway, watching her side steps and tip toe about the space, moving a crooked lamp, picking up a few pillows from a small futon in the corner, a woven blanket.

"Something called Eden. Does that mean anything to you?" The woman asked, putting her brothers' things back in order. The sound of shuffling papers being neatly stacked once more made for a delightful background noise.

"No but I'll look into it. You should get ready."

"You certainly cannot stay here, miss. Those two dirt bags might come back with more firepower and back up. Nein nein, you shall come with me to a safe house after a debriefing at the base." König explained, watching her face rise and fall with understanding that the man before her was right. "My superiors will want to know what you have told me."

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

König waited patiently in the office, looking at childhood photos of the woman who was pounding the floor upstairs, gathering some belongings. Her brother's Marine portrait, certificates of accomplishments and replica swords lined the wall behind the wood stained desk.

She knocked on the side of the office doorframe soon after, giving him a thumbs up.

….

"You said Eden, correct?" Kim Hong-jin or another masked man by the codename Horangi sat down with König and his charge. He was used to the cold conference room, the woman beside him, shivering and rubbing her hands before sitting upon them, did not.

Mid conversation, König shouldered off his jacket and draped it over his shoulders, dwarfing her in size. She gave him a nervous smile before continuing.

"Did they mean to hurt you, the duo?"

"I don't know. They just broken in through the side door, my brother, [REDACTED] has three entrances to his place, I got a Ring notification and hid. I'd never seen them before but they were adamant that my brother had something they wanted."

"Hmmm. We'll look into it, see what rocks we can over turn," Horangi scribbled down some information, circling a few keywords from your statement. "König; take her to the old farmhouse on 84th, hasn't been used in a beat, could use a tune up. Keep yourselves occupied until further notice." Horangi shook the woman's hand before gathering up the folder and notes. "Oh and König?"

"Ja?"

"Don't let her out of your sight."

The ride to the farmhouse was a bumpy one, the cabin of the SUV jostled the pair around, rocks and pebbles no doubt threatening with good merit to get lodged into the tread of the tires. The crooked place came into view from just the headlights, on bright of course, started to appear along the empty dirt road. There wasn't a neighbor for miles König and his partner noticed once they took their exit ramp from the highway, making sure they weren't being followed.

He held the door open for her, taking the duffel bag from her lap, flipping it over his shoulder like an afterthought.

"I never did get your name," the woman said, walking up the rocky driveway to the creaking porch as König took out the keys Horangi had given him on their way out from base. "Suppose I ought to know who I'm being shacked up with."

König snorted and put the key into the lock. "You can call me König ." "Hmm, nice ring to it if you ask me." She said, fumbling along the wall until the lights came on, showering the cozy house in a nice warm glow.

"And you are, miss?" He asked and placed her bag down on a stiff looking couch.

She spun on her heel and held out her hand in salutations. "I'm Y/N."

Even in the country light and glow of the almost yellow/orange lighting, you looked great. Not that he thought you looked bad; at all. He realized you were incredibly attractive the moment you popped out of your brothers' room, weapon and phone in hand. Hair mussed, face contorted with relief at his presence, stroking his ego.

You looked around, checking the rotary phone on a polished side table. Lifting the pewter Eiffel Tower, the fake flowers were dusty and the place reeked of mothballs.

The kitchen was decent, a little round table with a cheap plastic table cloth, four chairs with matching tied cushions.

"Not too bad," you announced after rummaging through the empty fridge. "I could live here."

"How long do you reckon we shall be out in the sticks?" König asked, more so out loud to himself than to you.

"Who knows. We'll need to go to the store in the morning, fuck all is in this place. Not even a water pitcher!"

"We will just have to take it day by day, I'm scared."

You snorted. "You're scared? You. All what? eight fuckin' miles of you. You're scared."

"I mean uh… I'm afraid. You'll forgive me, I tangle my words sometimes."

"Clearly! We should check out the rooms, I call first dibs!" You shouted, brushing past him like a child or wobbly infant, thundering your footsteps to the second floor. He could hear you exclaiming up there, bouncing on one squeaking bed in favor of the other as he locked up the house.

"Found mine, fend for yourself big guy."

He took the third room, at the top of the landing, it's bedspread reminding him of sweet grass summers. He laid there for awhile on top of the covers, telling you to keep your door open just in case. He could hear you snoring lightly, could picture the rise and fall of your breaths, timing them on his watch before he crept down the stairs, taking sudden notice that the fourth stair from the bottom creaked at just the right spot to the right.

He propped himself into an armchair by the sheer curtain covered window by the door.

Ever cautious.

Hyper aware.

He knew he wouldn't sleep and had planned on being awake as soon as Horangi sent you on your way from base.

He didn't mind.

He was being useful which filled his head with light, happy thoughts.

#könig #konig x reader #könig x reader #konig x you #konig cod #konig x female reader #konig imagine #konig fanfiction #konig fanfic #konig fan fic #cod imagine

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kyunghwannie · 26 days ago

Text

Hello, dear readers.👀

This is a Random Rant Post, But I Need to Address Some Real Nonsense.

Alright, let’s talk about something that’s been bothering me: why do some people have a personal vendetta against Male Reader x GG Idol stories? Like, did a self-insert male reader steal your lunch money or something?? Because the level of anger some of y’all have is INSANE.

I swear, most of us writing these stories have never slandered GG Idol x Female Reader writers. Hell, I even even read those stories because a good plot is a good plot. But suddenly, people act like we committed a war crime just for existing.

And then there’s the real unhinged people—like the one who literally posted that writers like me deserve a painful death for writing Male Reader x TWICE or any GG idol. EXCUSE ME?! Ma’am, sir, entity from the void—are you okay? Because that’s not “criticism,” that’s psychotic behavior.

I personally got DMs from someone (possibly a woman, as their profile said) cursing me out for writing TWICE x Male Reader because, and I quote, “TWICE belong to the girls.” First of all, NO. TWICE belong to themselves. Not to only men. Not to only women. Not to the person throwing a tantrum in my inbox. They’re idols, not Pokémon—you don’t ‘own’ them.

Look, I don’t care about your gender, your sexuality, your preferences (Iam a straight boy and that's what matters to me. Other shit be damned)—write what you want, read what you want, and let others do the same. It’s really that simple. But when you start sending death wishes or acting like my mere existence offends you… yeah, I’m gonna be rude right back.

To the crybabies who get triggered just by seeing GG Idol x Male Reader stories: We will continue to write. We will continue to enjoy our stories. And you? You can go cry into your pillow or start a Male Reader Eradication Club, I don’t care. Your opinions, threats, and bad vibes? Straight to the trash where they belong.. Or just your parents need to refund you to the hospital you were born in because people like you who sends literal triggering death wishes are just disappointments.

All we want is a chill, supportive community where everyone can write, read, and have fun. Too much to ask? Apparently. But hey, I’ll be over here, vibing and writing more TWICE x Male Reader, because nothing fuels my creativity more than annoying haters. 😘

Oh, but wait—we’re not done yet. Because the hypocrisy in this situation is giving me whiplash.

So let me get this straight: I’m the villain for writing Male Reader x TWICE, but you can write GG Idol x Female Reader and that’s totally fine? OH OKAY, GOT IT. So when y’all do it, it’s “artistic expression,” but when we do it, it’s suddenly a crime against humanity?? Make it make sense, because right now, it’s looking like delusion with a side of double standards.

And to those truly unhinged ONCEs who cursed me out in my DMs, let me ask you something real quick: DO YOU OWN JYPE? Like, did you wake up one day and legally become J.Y. Park? Are you sitting in the boardroom making executive decisions on who’s allowed to write what? No? Then why are you acting like TWICE’s personal gatekeeper? Sis, bro, mysterious keyboard warrior—go touch some grass. 🌱

Meanwhile, I’ll be along with other goated writers over here, writing more Male Reader x TWICE or GG Idol content just to spite you. Maybe I’ll even make it spicier. Who knows? Life’s full of surprises. But one thing’s for sure: I’m not going anywhere. And neither are my fellow writers. So either sit back and deal with it, or keep screaming into the void. Either way—I’m still writing, and you’re still mad. 😘

And my fellow people who supports my sayings here, SPREAD MY WORD AND LET THEM HEAR THAT WHAT THEY ARE DOING IS BULLSH!T"

#kpop #rant post #twice #girl group #girl group x reader #twice x male reader #male reader #Some people are pure stupid #WLW readers are insane to curse at us M!reads when they themselves read G!P fics. Talk about double standards eh?

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 8 months ago

Note

Hi Mouse! Could you pretty please write some general romantic headcanons for the bachelors. No in particular just stuff like how they romance the farmer and what they do as a couple. Thanks!

Sure thing, dear anon! Thanks for your ask, enjoy some headcanons!🫰💕

_________________________________________

Some romantic SDV bachelors x Farmer headcanons:

Elliott:

Letters. Many, many love letters, and not just any love letters. Every letter must be perfect, every word must convey the love that Elliott feels for Farmer. Even the paper must be of high quality and pleasant to the touch. There's a whole ritual involved, because it's for Farmer, after all.

Elliott loves to take Farmer for a walk on the sandy shore just as much as he loves to sit with them in the Saloon with a bottle of wine. Still prefers the walks more, though, as they are alone together and without any noise other than the sounds of the sea waves and seagulls singing.

One of their special pastimes together is leaving seashells in the sand. Yes, that's right, not collecting them, but spreading them out so the hermit crabs can find a home and not use plastic cups for that. Farmer and Elliott sign the shells and take a photo as another crab has found a shell. It's very sweet, really.

There probably isn't a day that goes by that Elliott doesn't tell Farmer that they are the love of his life. Of course, Farmer knows this and loves just as much, but Elliott just adores his partner. He likes to back up his words of adoration with lots of gifts too: some small but nice things that are sure to please Farmer.

Sam:

Given Sam's love for music and his excellent skill in playing the guitar, Farmer will hear many serenades dedicated to them. And it's not just guitar music, it's also a whole song that Sam will sing with his beautiful voice. Just like in the novel, honestly.

Tickle war! The perfect excuse for Sammy to fool around with Farmer and hear their beautiful, ringing laughter. Especially when his partner is sad or moody for whatever reason. A grumpy Farmer in his sight? The heck, Illegal for him! So Sam will take matters into his own hands and cheer up Farmer. He won't be mean about it (maybe~).

Generally, Sam is all for any kind of time with his partner, but probably his favourite is just lying on the grass on a summer afternoon with Farmer and looking at the clouds. Pointing a finger at the sky and convincing Farmer that that cloud looks exactly like a pizza, and feigning offence when Farmer laughs at him because he "sees pizza everywhere". Just a lazy day together, away from problems and things to do.

Physical attention is integral when it comes to expressing Sam's love for Farmer: holding hands, hugs (a lot) and kisses on the cheek and lips (even more). He's a fan of PDA and is ready to talk non-stop about how much he loves Farmer, wrapping them up in a tight embrace.

Harvey:

Maybe for some people sitting near a fireplace is not considered too special, but even here Harvey managed to create a truly magical and cosy atmosphere. Warm firelight, hot aromatic coffee, comfortable plaid and a lot of pleasant conversations about past moments and plans for the future. Especially when snow is falling outside the window/thunderstorm is raging.

The doctor has already got so good at cooking dinner that Gus has to take him on as an assistant. And some pretty elaborate dishes that are usually served in restaurants. So one of Harvey's love signs is to spoil his partner with a tasty and, importantly, healthy dinner almost every night. (Gus jokingly says that soon the Farmer's will stop visiting Saloon altogether because they have their own skilful chef.)

Likes to make surprises for Farmer. Surprise gift, surprise date - surprises everywhere! There is nothing more satisfying for Harvey than to see his lover's face go from surprise to delight and then tender love when they looked at Harvey again.

Well, where's a romantic time - and without dancing? Robin and Demetrius now have to move aside because there's another lovely couple on the dance floor. Nothing chaotic (especially after a few glasses of fancy vine), but as soon as light jazz plays in the Saloon, Harvey asks his partner for a slow dance. The doctor is still a little shy about dancing among strangers, but Farmer's soft gaze was enough to make all insecurity go away.

Sebastian:

Sebastian will show Farmer all his favourite places with fantastic views. And it's not limited to views of the big metropolis with its neon signs and billboards. Sebby will take Farmer for a ride to, for example, a small clearing near Stardew Valley, where they can both enjoy a beautiful view of the stars without all that light from the houses.

He and his partner also like to visit places they've never been to on his motorbike. Just without thinking, Sebastian and Farmer will go to some random cafe that is rumoured to serve delicious coffee, or to a rare comic book shop in Zuzu City. Leaving the jungle of the metropolis and returning to the more wooded area of Pelican Town.... Heh, and earlier Sebby wanted to escape the small town, but instead found the love of his life.

He enjoys listening to anything Farmer tells him, whether it's a spoiler for a new release of a science fiction film, a new character in their DnD game, or stories about the cows and rabbits on the farm. Honestly, he is willing to listen to Farmer 24 hours a day, and he never gets bored of it.

Romantic frog hunting! Well, "hunt" refers to Sebastian and Farmer walking near the ponds with a camera to look for frogs and toads to take photos. Later, they return home to photoshop the photos and get pictures of the cutest frogs. And memes. Seriously, the toad with eyes - lasers that destroys JojaMart was hilarious that the local emo and Farmer laughed for half a day.

Alex:

It's safe to say that one of Alex's love languages is to constantly ask the Farmer if they need help. Not that he's being so intrusive, no. It's just that the athlete believes that Farmer's problem is now his problem too, and wants to show that they can always count on him if they need anything because he loves them.

Alex loves his date with Farmer at the beach. And he doesn't care too much whether the couple is playing volleyball, swimming in the sea or lounging on a beach rug in the bright sunshine - beach dates are the best! It's even better when access to Ginger Island is open and they can go to the beach every season. Farmer is happy - and that's what matters. The main thing - stock up on plenty of sun cream, otherwise the date will end on a not very pleasant note.

At first Alex didn't do it on purpose, but seeing that his partner would sometimes steal his jumpers and jackets and put them on themself, he started leaving his clothes out in plain sight. It's hard to explain, but he likes to see his beloved Farmer in his clothes, even if it means he's unlikely to see his favourite jumper again.

Although the athlete usually shows simple, one can even say - standard, signs of attention, such as flowers, chocolates, walks in the forest, etc, but he tries to make every day special. Farmer sees their partner's efforts, his love and care, and therefore assures Alex that he is not banal, but a very romantic partner. Real gold (envy silently!).

Shane:

One day Shane saw a tandem bike on TV and thought: heck, why not? He'd like to try something new. It would be both a good ride to burn some calories and a nice time with Farmer. Even his favourite chicken Charlie could sit in a cosy bike basket. Farmer liked the idea too, so Pelican Town will often see these two lovebirds riding their bike (and hear Shane complain that his legs are killing him now).

Amusingly, what would normally be considered just a work, Shane sees as bonding with his partner. Especially taking care of the chickens and making winter preparations like jam and pickled peppers. The constant talking and bantering between these two..... It's so special and beautiful for Shane.

Shane is not at all shy of strangers when it comes to physically expressing his love for Farmer. Hugs and kisses - Shane loves Farmer's attention and showering them with the same attention and love. Lewis, shut up, you're generally afraid to show your relationship with you-know-who. Ha ha, Sam, very funny, expect chilli powder in your lunch. No one dares spoil his moment, got it?

The chicken man also doesn't mind having a game night with Farmer to take their mind off work for a bit. All the delicious (and not too healthy) snacks, drinks, a big screen TV and their favourite video game - in Shane's opinion, not a bad pastime either (which can turn into an even better thing~).

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv shane #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv elliott #sdv alex #sdv headcanons #thanks for the ask!

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leggerefiore · 29 days ago

Note

There was this twitter? thread where a guy was mind blown at how much his life improved/changed when his girlfriend moved in. Can I ask what boggles the mind for pokemen when their s/o moves in? ex) Nanu finally has a meal that isnt instant noodles/Local spaceman touches grass for the first time/Spoiled prince learns basic empathy and how to take sunglasses off indoors🌱✨️🌸🌼✨️✨️✨️

cw: fluff

characters: Nanu, Cyrus, Lear, Grimsley

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 The Kahuna was not so sure how he felt about the new situation… It was stressful to him in all honesty. His home really was not all that. What, with living in the police station he was technically supposed to be working in. Nothing really happened in Po Town, aside from whatever the now-disbanded Team Skull got up to. Nanu was more than capable of handling rowdy teens and twenty-somethings, though. You, however, were a force he was unprepared for. The couch he had so long used as a bed was replaced with something more proper in one of the back rooms. A more organised place for his sparse clothing was introduced, too. The front room became even more reserved for the Meowths. Though, his couch still had his computer set up next to it.

🌑 Food had become a little nicer… You encouraged him to join you in the little kitchenette area to actually make things. While his appetite certainly preferred Katonian dishes, your dishes admittedly made him quite happy. Your presence truly brought nicer things all around, he supposed. His energy certainly felt higher with the proper meals rather than just eating whatever cheap and easy thing he could get his hands on. It was shocking to him just how many little things you changed for the better around him. Even sleeping on a proper bed really did him some good.

🌑 What got him the most, though… Nanu would admit how much his mood seemed to improve. While he was still quite committed to being the exhausted old man he was, you somehow brought out a better side to him. It was no secret to those close to him that he had a soft side, but you helped him express it in a way that let him feel less concerned about being taken advantage of. Needless to say, Acerola was delighted to see the grumpy old man being nicer than usual. The other Kahunas teased him about it… On a second, though, maybe he disliked it.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ It was difficult for the Galactic Boss. His long period of shutting himself away from everyone else led to a difficulty in having someone stay with him in his person space. Though, he felt himself unable to even think of pushing you away, despite how unsettling seeing your face in the morning at his side could be. Somehow, you always ended up far closer to him than you started in the night (even if he was on your side, and it was his arm around you). Yet, having company proved fruitful, he supposed. Coming home at night to you became a reason for him to actually leave the office and not entirely lose himself in the madness of his plans.

☄️ Somehow, you even brought healthier habits all around. Encouragement to join you outside in doing things led to him doing more than just going to work and going home. Veilstone was a decently busy city which brought you two in wandering various shopping centres. Though, one time, Cyrus had to catch you before you wandered into a pachinko parlour, confusing it for a popular clothing boutique somehow. You also led him out around the region to do more than just mule over his research. A visit to Jubilife reminded him of how interesting this world can be… Yet, he refused to let himself be swayed.

☄️ Those around Cyrus commented on how he seemed to be in a better mood… Almost like he had more going on for him. Though, he felt he was mostly unchanged. It was simply that he had intentions of indulging you when he could. His plans took time after all… In the meantime, he would enjoy the company you provided. It was what he enjoyed most about your presence ever in his home. The only person whom he felt able to stand… You truly were a calming bond in his life. A smile and greeting when he came home truly revitalised him in a way he could not understand. Perhaps… He could rethink a few things. But only a few.

👑Lear💎

🪙 You moving in with him was a given – He initiated it, after all. There were little expectations for change, except that you would be with him. Though, he did find himself more at peace. His quarters felt more lively with your presence within them. He felt excited to show you everything available to him and offer it to you… But, what truly ended up clicking for him were the small things you brought. Your presence was comforting in a sense that no one else seemed to bring. Lying with you in his bed compared to nothing else in this world. He felt so at ease just having always within his arm's reach after being alone for so many years.

🪙 Your gentle scolding about him about being callous about commoner things brought out different understandings from him… Especially when you explained your own experiences. Though, he would admit to being horrified. His concern peaked, and you would have to be more protected… His understanding of the need for more reasonably priced goods were finally understood. With you at his side, he felt that Pasio would become even more of a paradise than it already was. He was a bit more embarrassed by his lack of knowledge, but he had been intended to be king… This information was simply not a necessity to him. Fast food certainly had scared him, despite your insistence that it was good and cheap. These interactions definitely gave him more of an appeal to those visiting Pasio, at least.

🪙 The best thing he discovered…. Was how much he enjoyed just being himself with you. Sitting quietly with you at his side while you spoke about various things with him. The feeling of your skin to his bare hands was a certain intimacy he had been unaware that he was lacking previously. Seeing you with his exposed eyes was something enchanting – With you, he knew that you saw him as a person. He was not your prince. No, he was just Lear. That comfort was everything to him.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ The adjustment was difficult for the gambler. He was used to his home being nothing but a place he occasionally returned to in order to sleep. Knowing you were there… He found himself coming home more often. While, he had decorated his home quite extravagantly. Though, it hardly felt like a home. You, however, seemed to shift things around. Unlike him, you returned for more than just sleep. It was strange to see the rooms become something more lived in. You napping on his leather couch when he came in late made a small smile tug at his lips frequently. Your personal effects around the apartment made him sigh contentedly. There was a strange feeling at the thought of you being here for him.

♡ You brought him home more often. His vices were all-consuming, but his libido could be tamed by you with no risk. If you shot him a text asking him to come home makes him weigh whether gambling and battling that evening was worth it. It was strange… The gambler felt almost domesticated. He still frequently spent many nights out until the late hours, but his evenings in with you became a nice reprieve from it all. Even if it was just as simple as spending time with you – He became enchanted with your presence in a way that had spiralled his madness for you in the first place.

◇ Though, his favourite thing… He would relent… It would be seeing you doing domestic things. The rich boy would admit that there was something oddly pleasant in seeing you cook for him. He liked quality dishes, but he would relent the special feeling that settled inside him at the thought of the effort you put into your cooking. Even the act of doing his laundry made him feel oddly, more and more interested in you. This was far too much like a normal relationship. The dynamic was oddly addicting to him. He has a strange urge to participate… Get ready for Grimsley to attempt the dishes by himself.

#pokemon x reader #nanu x reader #lear x reader #cyrus x reader #grimsley x reader #pokemon/reader #pokemon nanu x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon lear x reader #pokemon grimsley x reader #nanu/reader #cyrus/reader #lear/reader #grimsley/reader

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deadandphilgames · 1 year ago

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A note from Daniel (new epilogue from You Will Get Through This Night)

Thank you for reading This Night. Writing this book in 2021, while sitting locked down in a lightless basement apartment for months, had a certain self-fulfilling irony that was not lost on me.

In many ways, I wrote this book for not only my past self that I wish could have known these things when I needed them most - but for the guy sitting in an incredibly uncomfortable, hunched, t-rex-esque position typing, that needed it right then. Like many of you, I thought those particularly fun couple of years were a temporary inconvenience, that I wouldn't have to age the book by diving into. And here we are. I hope you enjoyed that new chapter about resilience and whatever the hell a 'polycrisis' is. Turns out certain global events do have an additional effect on our mental health - it's understandable that you may try to power through it and pretend it never happened, but we all deserve to take whatever time we need to honestly process how life makes us feel. I hope you're doing alright. My journey of reflecting honestly on my own life experiences and lifestyle while writing was …like spontaneously punching yourself in the stomach. "Wow. I really live like this? That is apparently not conducive to a healthy mind. Oops. Guess I'll go touch some grass." I'm happy if that made this a more entertaining read occasionally.

Even now, I find myself continually re-reading the book in those small moments of first emotional reaction to situations where I now at least think "Wait - what was I supposed to do here? Right. Not catastrophise." If this is you - that is fine. You are not expected to perfectly memorise this book or retain all knowledge you hear in life. I know I don't. If you're ever sat next to me in the emergency exit aisle of a plane, know that you may be required to physically throw me out of the door in order to inflate the slide because I was busy during the briefing, imagining how my life would have been different if I actually had the nerve to dye my hair black that time in school. I am at peace with that.

It was honestly terrifying for me to try and mine the content of my life to try and actually illustrate advice for people that may really need it …for me to honestly look at the balance between joking about my mental health, and really getting real. Hey - if your attempt at opening up via some humour comes out a bit offensive, you still get points for at least putting it on the table. That's progress.

This is not a book about me. I am here just as an example of terrible behaviour that you have permission to have an inappropriate public transport snort at, and as a writer who has repeatedly not finished traditional 'self-help' or scientific study books for being dry, unrelatable and preachy. I just hope you found this moist, identifiable and accepting of all of your beautiful flaws. So many flaws. I often worried if any of the material was maybe obvious, or something you could stumble across on the second page of Google - then I had a small moment of honesty with myself contemplating my own ignorance, commitment to procrastination, attention span …and the fact that factually just 0.63% of all people searching online, ever bother clicking to the second page of results. If you already knew some of this, good for you. Honestly. You must literally be happy with yourself. I'm just looking in the mirror and trying to do something for the 99.37% of humanity that spend their lives never successfully researching how to not lay awake at night fantasising about their doom. Look forward to the upcoming pocket size book of 'offensively self-destructive jokes' by Dan - or 700-page memoir of my yet un-girthy, mostly unremarkable life so far if that's what you're really looking for.

Perhaps the most terrifying result of releasing this book into the world, has been coming face to face with those of you that have read it. For in these moments, all of my protective self-deprecating persona comes crashing down in an instant when someone says this book made them feel better. Hearing that this book was the first time they finished anything tangentially related to self-improvement, or that just one thing they read was a new perspective on a part of their life they needed, makes me feel my mission in life is already complete. Seeing it be recommended by bookstores amongst all the other choices, hearing that people have shared it with their therapists or had it suggested to them by a professional, is an unbelievable seal of approval that I appreciate. I am so inarticulably grateful to have been given the opportunity to do anything that could make your life easier, more peaceful, more enjoyable. I've met people who annotated this book with post-its, told me they listen to audiobook exercises on their commute - and even a few people that have had illustrations tattooed onto them as a symbolic reminder of a message.

All of this puts that year of typing like some kind of infinite monkey at a typewriter into perspective. I'd do it all again. Mostly. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to be the guy whose name is printed on this book, and I just hope that reading it helped you, as much as writing it helped me.

Love and good luck.

- Dan

#ywgttn #ywgttn spoilers #i guess? mental health spoilers is a funny concept #love and good luck <3333 #also. look forward to a 700 page memoir. dont play with me like that daniel #dan and phil #daniel howell

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bluepandaears · 1 month ago

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I am not a dedicated author and haven't written anything approximating a fic in longer than I care to think about, but this just sort of happened. I figure if I was going to put it out into the world there's not much better place than this.

Smile

When Charles was 9 his dad gave him a black eye, it wasn't the first and certainly wouldn't be the last. It was summer holidays and he'd lost track of time playing outside and missed curfew. He only ever got visible bruises when school was out and the first of the season never failed to surprise.

As soon as he was allowed out of his basement room he walked down to the park and sat on a bench enjoying the fresh air and openness of the grass field. After being locked up he would always seek out the most open, outdoor space he could find. Imagine he could dissolve into the wind and float away with the clouds.

Today he's across from a playground. From where he's sat he can see some kids playing. Looks to be a group of siblings, each with an ice lolly. As Charles watches the middle child stands at the top of the slide waiting to go down. In an act of dominance the oldest one runs up the slide blocking it and in doing so drops his lolly. Anger flashes across his face before he grabs the ice lolly from his younger sibling. Hurt the middle child lashes out, but not at her older brother. She doesn't go to their parents either, not paying attention a little ways away. No, she runs over to the youngest and snatches his ice lolly from his little hands. Charles watches as tears well up in his little eyes, unable to retaliate or deal with the loss of a treat. Charles wonders if maybe now the youngster will turn to the adults. Instead he watches as the young boy, no more than 5, wedges himself into a crawl space under the climbing frame and cries alone over his loss.

It is at this point that Charles resolves to never treat others the way his father treats him.

******

When Charles is 12 he has his first crush. A girl named Hazel. She has blue eyes and light brown hair and barely knows he exists. She's a few years older and speaks in that self assured way people do when they know exactly what they are talking about and don't care what others think.

Charles hasn't learned to talked like that.

He never gets up the courage to talk to her.

******

When Charles is 14 he meets a boy that he is absolutely sure he will be best friends with forever. Elijah laughs at his jokes and doesn't mind when Charles watches him study. Charles is older now, and wiser, so he's positive he knows what he's talking about. Even if he still can't always talk like Hazel used to. They hang out nearly every day and it's brills. Until his dad finds out and decides Charles should stop putting so much effort into another boy. He gets a good lashing and a sprained shoulder and wears one of the many dark red polos his mum bought incase his back bleeds through. The next time he hangs out with Elijah he flinches away from touches and doesn't smile when Elijah tries for a joke. Charles won't explain because home life isn't something he knows how to talk about, and the whole afternoon is just a bit uncomfortable. They don't hang out as much after that and eventually Elijah stops trying.

It is at this point that Charles resolves to alway keep smiling. Even if he's hurting. People have left before when he flinches away but it's never hurt to loose someone like it hurts to loose Elijah.

******

When Charles is 15 he gets sent to boarding school. He thinks it might just be the best thing ever.

Then he learns how poorly he actually fits in. That's ok though, Charles has had a lifetime of learning how to fit in. He has his smiles, and his red polos, and his easy way of brushing off bad things and not passing them on.

It'll be fine.

Until it's not.

******

When Charles is 16 he dies.

In death he meets Edwin. Edwin has brown hair and eyes that Charles is sure change colour with his mood. He talks like Hazel and laughs like Elijah. He studies and doesn't mind that Charles watches. He doesn't leave when Charles forgets and flinches because Edwin flinches too.

Charles still smiles when it hurts because he can't risk loosing Edwin, but then Charles finds things don't hurt as much as they used to.

He still wears his red polo because it's habit by now innit? And he can never be sure that when things get bad his back wont still bleed from memory.

He finds it's easy to be nice to Edwin and protect him from bad things. Edwin had been through Hell after all so Charles figures he deserves someone to protect him from bad things now.

******

Over three decades later when Charles is still 16 he learns that he doesn't always have to smile. That the people who matter to him now will not leave just because he's hurting or having a bad day. That if he's hurting and doesn't smile they will actually stay closer.

He learns that he no longer wears the red polo in case his back bleeds through. He wears it because at some point in their friendship Edwin once said he looked good in red. And Edwin's opinion matters more than anything.

He learns that he likes being good because he is good and not because he is trying not to be his father.

Charles no longer worries about when it will be summer holidays and the first visible bruise. Instead he and Edwin go on walks through parks and along the river and enjoy being free.

And freedom with Edwin is better than brills.

~ fin

#dead boy detectives #dbda #save dbda #save dead boy detectives #charles rowland #dbda fanfic

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ruershrimo · 3 months ago

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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 9: you'll hate me

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

“You’ll hate me once you see what happened.”

“No, Megumi, I won’t,” you reassure him, “And anyway, things are different now, too.”

---

You could never hate him. After years of waiting to see Tsumiki again, you can finally do so now. Yet still, there's a sombreness in the air, and Megumi won't let you place a finger on it just yet.

word count: ~3k; tws: none for now ^-^

short a/n: hi everyone! I'm so sorry this took so so long, I really missed you all a lot. basically, school and life got a bit busy, but I'm happy to say I'm back now :). I've written an update here where I just talked about some matters regarding the series and my writing. you can read it if you'd like, because personally I think it's quite important for you to do so if you read this fic :)

28-6-2018

“Morning. Did you sleep well?”

Megumi moves the blanket away from him, blinking sleep out of his eyes still. You hoist yourself up until your back is against the headboard.

“The blanket wasn’t here before I fell asleep, I think,” he voices out, nearly inaudible, drenched in the aftermath of a deep slumber, “Did you—”

You nod your head.

“...thanks.”

At this moment, it’s as if nothing exists. Just you and him and the sky at blue hour, on his bed doing something that people who are just friends shouldn’t do. The urge to trace over his face— over his shut eyelids and sharp nose and thin lips— clings to you like a second nature, one which you never thought you had. There’s hair on his head like a nest you’re itching to touch, spiky and jet black like blades of grass.

You’ve seen this kind of movie before, felt these feelings with your best friend, no less— and now they’ll eat you up from the inside like bacteria on a rotting fruit. Because feeling like this means feeling everything else assault you all at once: you don’t know if you'd like to bury your face into something and scream, or cry from the fact that it may be unrequited, or jump around in joy for everything good Megumi has done for you.

But forget the sorcerers, forget the healing, forget the cursed techniques and the need to be useful and needed for one second, forget your parents, forget Tsumiki, even— and you can’t believe you thought that. What can they offer which you can’t find next to him, right now, on a warm twilight with cold blankets and pillows?

There are so many things you have wanted. But right now, just this is enough.

“Sometimes I regret talking about how I feel, being emotional and things like that— to the point that if I feel things strongly, these days I try not to show them. It’s… the vulnerability, I guess. Letting your walls down. I know it sounds super cliche, and I know that about 80% of the time I probably fail at this, and that it’s not always good being like that—” stirring him further into consciousness, “—but I think you’re the same, just in a different way. You don’t like talking about your feelings. Still, I have to say, I really enjoy this, these things we do.”

His gaze stays locked on yours, and silence fills the air again; nothing but steady breathing. You wonder, if there’s anything he thinks about when he’s alone on mornings like these, whether he thinks about you.

“So do I.”

The girls’ and boys’ bathrooms are right next to each other. So at 4 in the morning, when everyone else is still asleep and the sun is yet to rise, you bump into Megumi after brushing your teeth.

“Not going to shower?” he asks.

“The sound will travel and it may wake the others up. What about you?”

“I don’t shower in the mornings, only at night.”

“Oh, right.”

He pauses for a while, makes a little sound to fill in the gaps of his hesitation. You wait for him patiently. “Tsumiki… I can let you know about what happened to her. The truth is, she—”

“Take your time,” you interrupt him. You aren’t stupid; something bad must have happened to her for him to be like this. Any slither of hope you have left that she’s all fine and good was used to play dumb and deny yourself the truth.

“...let me take you there. To where she is.”

For more than half your life, Tsumiki’s been a constant. As you moved around and floated between friend groups, you felt lonely in every waking moment; only wishing for the days when you had Tsumiki and Megumi again. That was the impact they had on you. So after such a long wait, your heart leapt with joy at the thought of seeing her again.

“Okay.”

“Actually, do they not have a curfew? It’s only 5 am,” you say as the two of you are on the sidewalk, next to each other; not with either of you in front of the other. You pull the strap of your bag up every time it slips down.

“They do, but it’s only until 4 in the morning. It’s not as if it’ll be easy for sorcerers to obey a curfew anyway, so the teachers don’t really check if everyone is observing everything,” he explains, “Hey, I can hold your bag for you, you know—”

“I’ll be fine.”

“It looks heavy. It’ll hurt, and I don’t mind carrying it for you for a while. How many things are in there, actually—?”

“... I do try to pack minimalistically. I don’t have many things in it. I don’t know why it does this.”

“Let me hold it.”

“...okay. Thank you. But next time, you don’t have to.”

“I really don’t mind. It’s uh… like what you said. We take care of each other.”

“I’m surprised you still remember that,” you note, chuckling, “In that case I should try to take care of you more.”

“...you’re already doing more than enough.”

“Hope I’m not being too much, then,” you joke, and your voice sounds a little too fond as you hear it exit your mouth, “I’ll start doubling down from now on.”

A small part of you wants to indulge yourself; to imagine him doing this for you always. To feel the extent of the things he can do for you, and to want to do the same.

You hand him the bag. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips.

You have a problem here. You’re in deep, aren’t you?

The two of you had decided not to phone up anyone who could drive you there, nor were you able to take public transport from the school’s campus to your destination. In truth, you had no idea why it seemed that he and you were being secretive about it, but since you weren’t sure if whatever happened to Tsumiki was something Megumi wanted others to know yet, you obliged him.

“Where are we headed to, actually?”

“...the hospital.”

“...what?”

“...you’ll see. I’ll be able to explain once we get there.”

It’s as if the expression on his face is written in a language you can’t understand.

It only spurs your worry— what happened to Tsumiki? You’d wanted so badly to see her again and speak to her ever since she stopped all contact with you. The whole time you’d thought she was just busy, or that she would speak to you again soon, as if she were some constant who you couldn’t imagine being absent from your life due to sickness or injury. It hadn’t even occurred to you, that after you checked in on her and hadn’t even seen that she’d read those messages. To you she was a constant, and she’d always come back. You couldn’t imagine a life without her doing so.

First your mother, and now Tsumiki.

“The whole time I thought she just decided to… stop talking to me for a while.”

“If anything was done to her, she would have told you, provided that she could. You weren’t an afterthought to her. She loved you. I… it was my fault, that after everything happened, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I’m sorry.”

She loved you?

“I still don’t know what happened. I mean, don’t blame yourself—”

A car passes by and the two of you cross the road. His hand hovers near your back at the end of it, when the pedestrian traffic light goes red and the cars move rapidly behind you. You pretend his actions aren’t blowing up fireworks inside you.

“No, you called me, right? You even tried to reach me, and… after all I did and how I acted… it wasn’t the right thing to do. But I chose not to call you.”

You remember when you did, remember how it stung.

He’s not the only one keeping secrets. You’ve got the letter and the years of yearning you want to let him know about. Yet it would feel like betrayal to yourself, even with the guilt you have from always keeping them. You’re not sure if that guilt is for him or you.

“But you apologised for all of that, and, well— I think I’m mostly fine with it now. It was just… circumstance, I guess. Especially because it was Tsumiki. Not sure what happened to her, but I mean… if it was just what was happening at that time, even if it may frustrate me, I just have to accept it,” you explain yourself, speaking from your chest.

“You’ll hate me once you see what happened.”

“No, Megumi, I won’t,” you reassure him, “And anyway, things are different now, too.” You’ve got more control over your technique, fine-tuned it with practice and determination. You may still be weak at times: you may struggle to heal severe injuries or may get a nosebleed when you’ve pushed yourself too far and tried to heal bruises on four hours of sleep, but you’ve improved.

“No— I’ve hidden it for so long, I don’t know—”

“I mean, look, we all have our secrets. Sometimes we have them even if we don’t want or have to. You don’t have to be privy to all of myself, especially what I try to keep hidden, but if both of us ever want to… we can always take one step at a time, and I think we’re doing that quite well, in my opinion. Besides, you’re here now. And now that we’re both on campus it’s going to be even harder to get away from me.”

He stops in his tracks all of a sudden. You do, too. The words come floundering out of his mouth. “[Name]... I don’t know the… ‘right’ way to say this, but I don’t want to get away from you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I never did.”

“Huh.”

He hums.

“…me neither,” you coax out of yourself.

“...there’s a floral shop nearby. I usually get her some flowers.”

It’s time to get your mother some flowers, too.

The florist there greets the two of you with a wistful smile, and says that she hasn’t seen Megumi in a while. Megumi introduces you as a childhood friend.

“What do you usually get?” you ask.

“Lilies, usually. Carnations and daisies, sometimes, too.”

You’ve only bought flowers to pay respects to the deceased, at least when it was you buying them and not Yuuji. You’d never met your grandfather, but back when your parents still called you their little girl, your father would bring you to the temple where his ashes were kept every year. You’d see that photo of his face, smiling in black and white, next to your grandmother on their wedding day, and you’d notice how your father prayed before it. He’d replace the flowers— carnations, lilies, daisies, and tell you all the anecdotes he had with his father growing up. You’d gaze at the chrysanthemums and carnations with their honey-hued petals, at the lilies and daisies in their clear glass vases, and you’d think of how pretty they were. You think your grandfather would have liked them, his smile a spitting image of your father’s and a spitting image of yours.

“Those are her favourite, right?”

“Yeah.”

“They suit her. It’s a perfect match, because— well, to me, I always thought of parts of her as different things. Her kindness and the joy she shared with other people were cherries. Her hair was brown, so I’d think of chestnuts and that reminded me of Christmas with her, or mont blanc desserts. And her smile was like a flower to me, a bouquet of lilies. At first I only thought that it was because she was pretty and one of the sweetest people I knew, but now it’s more than that— wait, sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, no— it’s okay,” he replies, almost immediately.

“I’m just excited, is all.”

He sighs, though you don’t know why. “Then you’ll want to scream at me,” he begins, “…I’m sorry. You’re excited and I just… I’m sorry. You’ll understand when we’re there.”

You want to hold him. Tell him that it’s okay. Tell him that no matter what, you could never hate him. That you’d never had the power to, ever since you met him on that spring day.

He chooses one bouquet on display, then heads over to the cashier. You don’t think you’ll be able to hold him at all, today. Or he won’t let you, his walls barring you from him, even when you thought many of them were already gone. You’d been so stupid, thinking the two of you were getting closer, but there was still so much more you had to learn about him now. There was still so much more you had to wait for, until he was willing to take them down.

“Have you known her for a long time?” you ask, exiting the shop. He bought two— one from him and one from you.

“Ever since Tsumiki got admitted.”

“I can pay you back for the bouquets, by the way,” you suggest.

“It’s fine.”

“Gojo’s money?”

“Gojo’s money.”

You snicker.

To be honest, it’s a little difficult walking with him now. The two of you are devoid of any communication whatsoever, a silence calm in the night and early morning yet thickly unbearable once the sun has risen. Before this, you’d been timidly tiptoeing between small talk and deep conversations. Yet now, with the mood of Tsumiki’s incident looming over the air like a ghostly whisper, there’s nothing to talk about, really, as much as you’d like for there to be.

You’d once heard that people who fell in love were able to talk each others’ ears off for hours on end. You could do that with Yuuji. But Megumi has always been different— in your life, at least. He’s not as boisterous, and not as agreeable with most people despite his politeness, but it’s always been a pleasure being silent with him. Sitting in silence. Lying on the bed together. There’s no spark before you, just the tranquility of an ocean at midnight. In the darkness, with shadows.

He’s special. Now you can see that, now more clearly than ever before.

And even now— even when things are awkward and jittery, you find you don’t mind this that much at all. You don’t think you mind anything if you’re doing it with him.

So there are no words between you, and you glance at his face, at the frown that contorts his face so softly and gently.

If you held hands now, it would be pleasant.

If you held hands now, your hands would inch closer to his as shyly as the first hints of spring arrive after winter. Your wrist would reach his, fingers aching for others to interlock with. Then they would slowly graze his palm like a lost man navigating through the wilderness, until you slid your fingers up his arm again. You would keep them on his wrist, at the outline of his veins, and perhaps if you pressed on it hard enough and used the same mental imaging you do for your cursed technique, you would be able to watch as blood flowed through his arteries and veins. You’ve held his wrist before anyway, grabbed it and pulled him along while his hand would slacken a little. At that time you did it almost abrasively.

Maybe he would flinch. And maybe you would pull your hand back.

But then before you realise it he would be tugging on your fingers again, palm against yours, finger to finger. You can even feel it as you think of it now— you would nearly melt in the grooves of his palm, the texture of his skin, and your hand would dance around his a bit until both of your hands wrapped around each other, a snug fit.

“[Name].”

Your breath seems to fall short as you’re pulled from your fantasies. “What?” you ask, your face hot like a pan sizzling with melted butter.

“Are you okay? It’s time to cross the road.”

“Yeah. Just… it’s just… Tsumiki.”

His hand is on your wrist.

“Okay.”

And if your hand slides down to his palm, and you squeeze his hand before he squeezes yours back despite not looking at you at that moment, well—

You’ve done this before, and several times. But yo know why it’s different now.

The sun has risen. There’s a certain pallor on Tsumiki’s face that you’ve never seen before. Under the early morning light it’s as if sunlight is seeping through her like light refracted in water. Her face is torn between peace and a grimace, as if she’s suspended precariously between a dream and a nightmare. A glaring red mark burns into her forehead like carved wood in patterns completely alien to you. There’s no lively ponytail bursting from her head, only the sordid scene of strands of chestnut hair gone flattened and lifeless, her once bright pink lips turned desiccated and pale; the sight of her grinning face from before only slipping through your fingers like powdery heaps of dust. She’s drawn out on the mattress resembling a fawn carcass in a documentary: too young and innocent to be like this, shallowly breathing in the torpid air. Comatose. The sight juts through your heart.

This is different from grief. It feels like suffocation, like heaviness in the air. Your breaths are shallow as you take the clear glass vase, fill it with water and replace the previous lilies with new ones. There is no grief because nothing has been lost, only suspended. Locked in a standstill, for a little while.

“We think it was a curse,” Megumi chokes.

“How can you cure her?”

“There’s no known cure since it was made from cursed energy. All we can do is wait for her to wake up.”

“How long…?”

“Since junior high. A while after you left.” Megumi confesses, “I’m sorry if you’re angry that I should’ve told you sooner,” his voice is strained and soft, a little bit from cutting himself off, “I’m sorry.”

How many times had you thought of seeing her? How many times had you wondered why he’d never call and let you know how she was? Would she survive this, or would you have to wait a hundred times more just to see her again?

He knew all of this. He could have told you.

Don’t be unreasonable, you think. Just focus on what you can do next.

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh, “It’s just that after everything…”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“I just wish I could’ve known. Then this whole time that I spent waiting—”

“I know,” he goes, begging you to be angry. To hate him, as if anything he’s done to you could be the cause of something so great.

You can cure people. You were placed on this world, born with powers to make or break life’s structures and processes, to cure people. With powers like that you’ve been hunted, sought after, protected— and yet now, when you need to heal this wound of hers, there’s nothing you can do.

It makes you feel so useless it shakes you to the core.

“I don’t know if I can do anything,” you start, half-resolute and half-doubtful. But despite your doubt you know that this is what it’s all about; what you’ve pledged yourself to do— to try your best and be useful. Like walking on a tightrope: you’ll have to march forward in the face of all of this and just force yourself not to look down, because this is all it’s ever been. Maybe, you think for a second, everything in your life has led to this moment. “But can I try?”

“…of course. If anyone could do it, it would be you,” he remarks, voice softening with each syllable.

“…thanks.”

He’s very… tender today. Vulnerable. You suppose it’s because of Tsumiki and refrain from commenting on it.

You focus all your energy into her forehead and her brain, trying your best to somehow work against an obscure charm with an even more abstruse molecular structure.

You can feel it— the strain on your consciousness, how it hurts to even think at some point, but ignore it all and try your best to help her.

Be useful. If you don’t make it work now, her health is going to be up in the air for longer. If you don’t make it work now, you won’t know if you’ll be able to speak to her again, to thank her for everything— for teaching you to be kind and loving, for caring for you and appreciating parts of you when you’d never felt it before, for her cherry hair tie and her bright smile and her endless wisdom and—

[Name]?

If you don’t make it work now, how many more months will she have to spend without smiling through life and sharing her love with others?

You want to scream at Megumi sometimes, actually.

[Name]!

If you don’t make it work now, how much time of her life would be wasted in the end, when she had so much potential to change the world and shine her light on others?

…he could have just told you from the start!

You have to focus. If he told you this at the start, would that have changed anything?

Be useful.

[Name]!

You have to make it work. You have to bring Tsumiki back.

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