#he got that 1000 yard stare

[ciderjacks]

This always stuck with me for some reason. I wonder what he saw.

[ariariari-freehounreal]

Chell’s life Chell’s rules rat man, the face skunk has to go.

[theblehthatbloos]

Thank you for sharing my story

[sapphirebluebird]

Gay people in my phone help me how do I approach the really tall cute guy in stock why is he so much more intimidating than the guy I just had a crush on who was in the same dep as me like

[falloutnewnobody]

so i got the enclave radio mod for kicks and as much as i love it, all i can picture is courier six just like jamming out to like the saints go marching on or some shit and arcade just having trauma flashbacks in the background but unable to say anything lest he reveal his secret identity.

like the courier turns to arcade like "isnt this one such a banger? also what's america?"

meanwhile arcade is like in a 1000 yard stare thinking about the tragic cost of his comfortable upbringing

Eventually the courier realizes something's up and she thinks he just really hates this kind of music and turns radio new vegas back on.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Lol Ive got an Artoria Pendragon prompt for both saber Artoria and lancer Artoria. Where a previous male master of hers is summoned as a heroic spirit that she has a romantic relationship with that turned into a marriage after she stayed with him as a familiar after the grail war ended. She's constantly spending time with him and having alone time with him leaving the knights of the round confused on who reader are until they finally ask Artoria and she announces that That The newly summoned servant is her spouse and therefore her queen.

I went in a bit of a more... Chaotic direction for this then I intended...

Still, I had a blast writing it!

NOW! YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!!

Mordred’s 1000 yard stare bored into the cafeteria wall, coming dangerously close to burning a hole through it.

At the most definitely not round table next to her’s, the knights of the round sans their king were drawing straws to ask Mordred what was wrong.

Now let us all pray for Gawain and thank him for his sacrifice.

Oh, now he was sitting next to Mordred with the same traumatized stare…

Then Lancelot.

Then Bedivere.

Then Tristan.

Then Merlin, who began to laugh his ass off as if he was in on an inside joke.

That left only Gareth, who, upon asking what cursed knowledge caused this, followed them promptly.

That cursed knowledge in question being this.

Mordred heard moans from the king's room, and the king telling the newest Caster of Chaldea “Don’t Stop”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Knights stealthily watched Artoria and you from across the room, a sense of impending doom hanging over them.

And that sense of impending doom was growing with every second as Artoria began to slowly and very conspicuously scoot closer and closer to you on the couch.

Eventually Artoria was sitting as close to you as she possibly could, a content smile on her face as she began to whisper something to you.

The Knights were quite concerned about this, but there was nothing they could do about it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Artoria eyed her knights conspicuously watching her as she stealthily slid closer and closer to you with each passing second.

She should probably tell them who you were.

Alternatively, she wanted to keep you to herself as long as she could.

Needless to say, she knew what option she was going with.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

This torture of the knights continued for a month.

Mordred saw Artoria share food with you, nearly killing her from the shock of it on the spot.

Gawain saw the king give you a secret kiss on the lips, causing him to faint dead away.

Lancelot has been into the infirmary for head trauma a concerning amount this month from slamming his own head into walls.

Tristan was mostly normal about all of this. Mostly.

Merlin was laughing his ass off.

Gareth had gone into overdrive with making food and sweets to keep her mind off things.

And Bedivere was really just still traumatized by the implications of what happened.

Eventually this all came to a head when Artoria had her fill of fun and called the knights to assemble.

After that things got… chaotic.

Especially when she explained that, through a surprisingly well thought out powerpoint, you were the Queen and then you popped in to say “So that means I’m your mom now Mordred! Technically at least.”

Mordred kinda… checked out after that…

Slowly things began to fall into place, but a certain flower mage wanted to keep his entertainment going for just a while longer.

So, Merlin being Merlin, asked “So then Artoria, how was it to have your bed warmed by your lover again?”

“What do you mean? We haven’t… wait… wait! Oh! HA! HA AHA AH!” you said before beginning to laugh, leaving the knights confused and Artoria blushing as you laughed while falling to the floor, unable to control yourself.

“T-that wasn’t… intercourse…” Artoria said before muttering something under her breath as you howled with laughter on the floor.

“What was that my king~?” Merlin cooed, a mischievous grin on his face.

This when put together with your laughter and her knight’s confused stares led to the inevitable.

Artoria cracked, and, much to her shame, told them exactly what happened.

“IT WAS THE QUEEN GIVING ME A SHOULDER MASSAGE!!!”

Artoria Lancer, unlike many of her other counterparts, can be rather… mischievous at times.

Not to the same effect as Merlin, but she does take some amusement at others' expense on occasion.

And so when you showed up one day and after all of the hugs, kisses, and crying, Artoria knew just what to do.

She was going to introduce her knights to their queen.

Eventually.

Until then however, well, Artoria was going to ensure her knights were kept on their toes.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

First up was Mordred, and Artoria’s plan for her was simple.

A hickey on the neck, or what looked like one at least.

The reaction, to be expected, was Mordred completely breaking.

Second was Bedivere who showcased similar results after seeing her exiting your room. 

Next up was Gawain where all she had to do was make a few implications to have him clutching at his proverbial pearls.

Lancelot was next, and he was a slightly tougher nut to crack, at least until she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Gareth simply received an off-handed comment from Artoria about you being “Someone rather important from her point of view.” This left Gareth confused for a few moments until the dots connected in the way Artoria had predicted.

Tristan was… already in the know… somehow…

 And so, with all her little pieces of chaos sowed, Artoria sat back with you at her side and had some popcorn and a massive buffet of other foods.

However, she eventually ran out of food after… several months.

You were surprised she had that much self control.

You were also surprised when the knights of the round kidnapped you in a very dramatic fashion.

Bag over the head, handcuffs, the whole nine yards.

“WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH MY FATHER YOU HOMEWRECKING RIDER!!!” a very distressed Mordred shouted as she tore the bag off your head, revealing a room covered wall to wall in bulletin boards filled with pictures, red strings, documents and the other, equally distressed Knights of the round..

It seems Artoria’s little mischief has gone a *Tad* too far…

And now Mordred was shaking clarent in your face…

It is probably time to start talking, fast.

Then the door was blown off its proverbial hinges as Chaldea had sliding doors.

And there stood your one and only, Artoria Lancer, looking very, very irate.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

One quick ass whooping later, the Knights of the round were sitting on the floor, lumps on their heads and looking very ashamed of themselves.

After all, they had just kidnapped the queen…

And that was a whole other can of worms for Mordred…

Nonetheless, the entire charade came to an end, and you were only slightly disappointed the amusing antics Artoria had caused were over.

Simply put, there is no pomp or flashiness when Artoria Alter is involved.

When you are summoned she is going to find you, kiss you, and tell everyone in no uncertain terms, that if they were to even think about touching “Her Berserker” she will use their head as a doorstop and feed their bodies to pigs…

After that, she refuses to elaborate and leaves, you following her closely behind.

This left a very scared Chaldea and a very confused Knights of the round.

This is because of the following.

They had just been threatened by a very, very scary lady.

Artoria Saber Alter had just walked up to someone and claimed ownership of them like a lost puppy.

ARTORIA SABER ALTER JUST KISSED SOMEONE IN A VERY PASSIONATE AND LOVING MANNER!!!

ARTORIA SABER JUST DID SOMETHING IN A LOVING MANNER!!!

So, the Knights immediately set to trying to track you and her down.

This took a lot longer than any of them thought possible seeing as the two of you had simply disappeared into thin air.

Then everyone heard a massive crash from the material storage room…

On that day Guda was to be found in the fetal position upon finding their entire storage of materials having an absolutely massive chunk bitten out of them when Artoria forced you to eat them in order to have you in your “Final Ascension” as Guda dubbed it. She did this because she wanted you in “The right clothes for my queen.”

This left the Knights in shock, however, Artoria simply went off gallivanting with you again instead of clarifying anything.

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

Reblogging my own post rn cuz THEE @sreppub has seen my silly lil addition to their AU! I can die happy fr now! But also because I shoulda tagged em from the beginning so ya'll could see the whole of their dope Selkie Jason Cinematic Universe

That Selkie Jason / (SEA CRITS) Au is very children's animated movie coded to me so I drew my brain rot.

Dick is the tween who hasn't discovered Hot Topic yet, just you wait, but thinks his brothers are Babies TM and can't be seen with them. Jason is going thru it with his "shit ass" older brother and baby Tim won't stop stalking his brothers wherever they go. I imagine they're like 13, 8, and 1/2ish,

As for their Sea Crit ids, Selkie Jason is king so he's a snowy baby. That Dick is an otter post changed my life so there he is.

I saw someone suggest that Tim should be a platypus which I would have drawn except I had already decided that he was gonna be a sea lion (they are very tim coded, big heads, droopy eyes, can probably skateboard etc) so there he is.

ps. if ur angsty him being a sea lion makes him even closer to jason and thus more threatening to Jay Emotionally.

I've drawn the boys all together because although I appreciate the angst I think the sibling trio trouble would be very fun, and stressful on Bruce who'd have to actually take care of three literal children at the same time.

[gunnrblze]

Random hcs for the Ghost boys

-Merrick likes to listen to the white noise machines to fall asleep. They’re rarely available to him, but if this man ever has the opportunity to fall asleep to the sounds of the ocean, he’ll conk tf out

-Keegan had a Green Day phase in middle/high school. Definitely had a raggedy t-shirt he wore too much with a logo on it that he just lost one day.

-When Hesh started going by Hesh, Elias didn’t really understand it, but being the supportive dad he was, just pulled the “as long as you’re happy, son🙂”

-Logan was a certified Mama’s Boy before Miss Mama Walker passed away. The only persons ass he was stuck up more than Hesh’s was hers

-Kick will put honey on anything if it’s available. Even savory foods he’ll put some honey on. “It just tastes better” he says as he drizzles it on his scrambled eggs like a maniac

-Keegan has that 1000 yard stare that can genuinely unsettle you. If he looks at you the wrong way? You’re left wondering what poor victorian child’s soul got trapped in his body

-Before their mutual demise, Rorke and Elias would often get together to have some good ole fashioned Male Bonding. Would invite the other ghosts sometimes, but it was always the two of them. Many late, beer laden nights where they had some very odd conversations about their friendship. Cause it was actually all very homoerotic and they wanted each other carnally

-Pre-fed Rorke was the biggest man child when it came to pranking the guys. Those really dumb silly pranks he’d pull and just watch unfold from the sidelines. Ajax once peed on saran wrap over a toilet seat, never knew who did it.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Ed finds a cool puzzle at the store. It's got a lighthouse on it. He thinks "oh shit cool puzzle. Stede would love this." He's never done a big puzzle before. This one has 1000 pieces. He thinks "that sounds like a normal number of pieces." He decides to grab it and put it together for Stede to see when he gets home.

Stede comes home to find his boyfriend fighting for his life in the middle of the kitchen floor. He's been working on it for five hours and he's got sixteen pieces fit together. Didn't plan on what having a thousand puzzle pieces in his kitchen floor would actually be like. Takes him nine months to put that thang together and when it's finally finished he comes up to Stede with this thousand-yard stare like he's been through a war zone and he just whispers "I triumphed."

Puzzles are banned from their home after this incident, which has to be a hard rule because every time Ed sees a cool puzzle at the store he goes "pretty puzzle :D"

[gothmoth21]

Does anyone else think about Dan and Herbert in Peru?

I know it was kind of a throwaway part of the movie but I wonder how much it affected them and what they witnessed there

I wonder if that’s part of why Dan is so distant and almost cold? He consistently has a 1000 yard stare throughout Bride of reanimator, makes me wonder how it fucked with him

Sure he’s got plenty of trauma aside from that but idk I think a lot about what could’ve happened to them out there other than yknow, Dan getting stabbed and Herbert dragging him away

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Penance + (knock-off) Ambrosia

still alive, slowpokes :P

When -- during the meal at the Greene's Farm as seen in S02 Chupacabra. After Shame on a plate.

What -- Carol wanted to cook a communal dinner for the Greenes in thanks for all they've done to help your group. Under the weight of Otis' death as well as possibly having to vacate to God-knows-where, the shared meal is tense. Meanwhile, Daryl's busy beating himself up alone in his room and won't eat.

Relationships -- slow burn Daryl x You

Perspective -- You 2nd, Daryl 3rd

Pronouns -- neutral

TWs -- some language, and a non-descriptive allusion to Shane's actions in Stuck in a damn bed.

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

feedback is nice to get :D

Jimmy’s note to you reads: “What’s a pirate’s faverite letter?”

Easy, you know this one!

After double-taking at the typo, you scribble back “aRRRR!” and pass it to where he sits beside you, a smug grin tucked in your face. Only rule is: don’t laugh.

Yo, this table is fun, you’re not even embarrassed about being in your mid-twenties and sitting at the kiddie table. It’s too bad Carl tired himself out earlier, he’d be in stitches!

Oh, come to think of it, that wouldn’t be good, his actual stitches are still healing. So are yours, for that matter…

Anyway, it started off as a silly thing: Not 5 minutes into the meal, Beth had tiptoed to get her drawing pad from the den and wrote “please pass white gravy + pepper?” instead of whispering it, because supper had/has been that darn quiet.

This immediately (and somehow wordlessly) turned into the no-laugh competition you’ve all got going.

Granted, laughing out loud might would make the dinner a little less stiff, but you aren’t certain.

The big table seems rough. They’re barely making eye contact, not really talking, eesh.

Before dinner began, Patricia, Lori, and Carol were chatting as they finished up the cooking, and at the same time there was light discussion as you were helping wash the dishes and set the table with your friends. Even Lori exiting Carl’s room after plainly having been crying didn’t alter the good jibing any, things were chill.

But when everyone came in, sat down together? It got uneasy. When Mr. Greene said the blessing it almost felt too loud.

Now the room is limited to clinking, scraping noises, murmured niceties, and hushed requests to pass things.

You did almost lose the no-laugh game first when Glenn quietly mimicked the way Gollum said “what’s taters, precious?” because you whispered at him to “pass the mashed taters, please?” instead of ‘potatoes.’ Don’t fret, you’d obviously murmured back the only correct response of “po-tay-toes?” as well as the cooking instructions Sam says in the movie.

You almost lost it again when Glenn next decided to break the silence by asking the entire room if anybody knew how to play the guitar. The crickets that followed, hilarious!

Except, then Patricia spoke up that her husband had known, Mr. Greene agreed about how skilled Otis had been.

Oh, did the tension spike.

First thing you'd done was peek around to see if Shane was okay. He wasn’t.

His expression had taken on that 1000 yard stare sort of deal he’s been slipping into. Scared, lost. Then hard and almost mean.

Something got broke in him real bad that night Otis got killed. It’s scary, especially considering how he snapped at you yesterday and even…never mind, you don’t want to get into it.

At any rate, he made a very serious apology to you earlier today, very serious.

So, yeah, the room turned way more tense after that innocent guitar question, certainly sobered you up right quick.

And the strange sensation you’d had after Amy got killed, the one where it felt as if her blood was back on it, it started to come back pretty strong. Granted, it had come back after what happened with Shane the other day, too, but the sensation revved up more after the guitar question. Rest in peace Otis.

And at least to you, it made the unspoken understanding of Sophia twist harder, too.

When poor Jimmy got teary when his dad was brought up, you traced a blessing on his forehead and set to scribbling the next dumb joke you could think of on another scrap of paper for him and reminded yourself your hand was clean and that Otis and Sophia’s fates weren’t on you.

As for poor Glenn, once the exchange was over, he looked like he wanted to transform into a chair.

Silver lining was that Maggie helped him feel better; she slipped him a note that must’ve been a really good joke because Glenn seemed giddy as a schoolboy as he wrote down the punchline or whatever.

‘Schoolboy’ is definitely the best term — Mr. Greene and Dale happened to see Glenn sneaking back his response and were staring at the folded paper in his hand.

It’s kinda silly, right? Not only were you, Margaret, and Glenn sat at the kid table, but you were also acting like kids, what with the note-passing. Caught by the principal lol.

In the moment, you’d figured might as well, and so scribbled in big letters on the back of the notepad itself: “Too quiet, so we pass notes!”

When you held it up to the two of them, Dale read the words, swallowed a smile, then mouthed "troublemaker" to you.

As for Mr. Greene, his expression was, per usual, unreadable.

That was, what, all of 10 minutes ago? And it’s still a quiet, tense meal.

Maggie hasn’t taken the note from Glenn out her pocket to share it. A part of you hopes it’s something sweet, therefore private.

And, well, right now, you’re staring at your plate and thinking on how you’ve already got helping #2 on it. It makes you wonder if the quiet in the room, tense as it feels, might could be related to the food?

’Cause dude, it’s been so long since a hot meal this good!

Even the heartbreak about Sophia isn’t enough to stop the cravings from going into overdrive (not true, actually, but the meal is great, is what you mean)—and Carol orchestrated the dinner, anyway. She’s in a place where even she can eat, so…

Wiping your hand on your napkin again (and again), you take another sip of water, and fidget with your fork and knife.

God save you, you want to go hog wild on the food and shove it all into your mouth in one fell swoop. So, you know, maybe everyone else is also extra quiet to focus on eating politely and not stuffing it all in their face like half-starved hamsters, too.

That’s a nice thing to imagine, rather than it being gonna-get-kicked-off-the-property-and-we’re-very-sorry-Otis-is-dead-and-are-we-allowed-to-enjoy-things-when-Sophia-is-probably-dead? tenseness.

Because the food really is so yummy! And there are potatoes! Carol was so thrilled to find out they have potatoes! And there’s dairy! Therefore butter and cream and milk — hallelujah!— oh, you did a happy dance the second a forkful of the mashed taters touched your lips!

Back to the present, as you set to crafting an unnaturally large bite featuring a taste of everything from your plate, Jimmy is reading your response to his pirate joke while — grinning wide and shaking his head?

Then, you see as he scratches with the pen again on the note in his lap and hands it back to you.

Is not a pirate’s favorite letter R? What other letter could it…

You keep chewing while you open the folded note.

It reads:

“aRRRR? Nay, ‘tis the C!”

��

…

OH MY GOSH—

___________________________

Him

___________________________

A familiar laugh belted out from down the hallway where they was all doing dinner. This was followed by couple seconds of silence even more dead than the dinner already sounded.

But after that? It was as if a dam had burst and carried in pack of hyenas who quickly overtook the dining room.

He next thought he heard the word “pirate,” but that made no sense. A few minutes later, the hyenas seem to have left, judging by how shit got all quiet again.

That is until another noise, this time suspiciously moan-like, called out from the dining room. Within a second or two, he heard the food’s praises sung, T-Dog leading the charge, and, well, the din stayed put after that.

One, big, happy family.

Minus one missing little girl.

Daryl hadn’t touched his plate yet, hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed. Didn’t feel like eating.

How those dickbags was having a dinner was beyond him at that point.

The search today was a bust, yet again. The neighborhood T-Dog’s group went to check was mostly burned down, and the highway spot set up for Sophia was still untouched.

Carol’s words to him wouldn’t shut up, neither — and why in the hell she gave him a kiss on his head?!

“You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole life,” she’d told him.

Can you believe that shit? “You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole life.” If failing and getting benched for a week was the best that little girl ever got, she had a piss poor life, and that fact whipped Daryl on the back harder than his own old man ever had.

Speaking of, when Carol brought him his tray, she hadn’t knocked. Meaning, Daryl hadn’t had time to pull the sheet over his shoulder before she walked in. His shirt had been off.

Daryl’s hope was that it’d been dark enough in the room that she wouldn’t see the scarring, just the tattoos. It's his own damn fault— he hadn’t felt like putting his shirt back on after Patricia checked his stitches, and house got warm from the cooking, besides. And because he didn’t care to slump out of bed and wrench open the window more, he stayed shirtless and decided to simply kick off his blankets.

Joke’s on him. And now, someone else had seen them.

He could just about hear Merle tell him, “quit wallowin’ like you’re on your period, Darylina.”

Well, Merle wasn’t really there, so Daryl would wallow all he wanted, and think on Carol telling him that he was also “every bit as good as them.”

As Rick, as Shane, as T-Dog, as Glenn, as — fuck, who cares, it didn’t matter. Because Daryl was not.

Carol wasn’t the best judge of character, just look at the turd she’d married.

“You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole li—”

—A steady knocking sounded at the door, breaking up the echoes of Carol’s words and setting Daryl on edge.

Yup, it was Y/N’s knocking, no mistaking it.

“Just open it!” was the loudest he’d spoken all day. He didn’t want to be around people, was that such a big ask?

There was a pause before he heard the door open a crack.

“Would you prefer to be left alone awhile longer?” his friend asked softly.

The annoyance Daryl had felt eased and drained off. His whisper was hopefully loud enough for Y/N to hear. “What is it?”

After another pause, whatever they said in response was too quiet and blocked by the door. All Daryl heard was “Red furseh?”

“Y/N, y’can just come in,” he relented. He even bothered to turn toward the door for them, except, his friend hadn’t opened it up yet.

“A-Are you decent?”

Am I…what, did they think he had his hand down his pants or something? “Yes.”

He watched as the door opened and Y/N (nervously?) looked at him, eyes flitting down along the bedsheet.

Goddamn, Y/N really did just worry if I had my hand down my pants.

“Are you ready for seconds?” Y/N repeated, relaxing.

Got it, that’s what they’d been asking from the doorway.

Daryl responded by way of a gruff, soft, “Nah.”

Another pause.

“Do you feel sick? Or are you,” they tilted their head and frowned again, “‘wallowing’ ain’t the right word — are you beatin’ yourself up, Daryl?”

Yes, somebody has to. “What do you want?” If Y/N could not hit the nail on the head right now, that would be great. He had a bandage on it, after all…

“I’m-I’m asking ’cause the symptoms are usually the same, I mean,” his friend started walking toward the bed as if they was hesitant to do it, “you ain’t even touched your plate, your voice is — for real, sugar, d’you feel sick, depressed, or both?” Saying this, they laid their wrist against his forehead.

“Careful, I got a bandage!” was stupid of Daryl to grunt, because it was coming off tomorrow morning and because Y/N was careful, but he grunted it anyway. Just — why’d they need to use that pet name?

“There were a whole lot of ways you could have contracted yourself an infection, and, well, y-your shirt is off. Ain’t never seen you do that, um…” Y/N inhaled, then exhaled slowly, and pulled their wrist away. “You are kinda warm, but it is warm in here. Really warm, actually, um, d’you want the window open more?”

Yes, please. “M’fine.”

He shifted back onto his side and resumed staring into space.

“Let me do somethin’ for you before I go,” Y/N gently insisted. “Please.” They put a soothing-type tone on. Normally, a tone like that would cause him to feel belittled or pitied, but, he didn’t know, maybe after this week he was used to it. And, he didn’t know, maybe pity wasn’t such a bad thing.

“First, would you like a shirt, or are you good?” his friend asked.

‘Would he like a shirt,’ hell yes, he would like a shirt.

The tugging sensation in his chest came back for a sec. Y/N had a knack for hitting the nail on the head with him. And while the offer was both innocent and loaded, he started to feel as if his soul had been stripped bare-naked in front of them again.

The fact that he’d even let them see his back had been a lapse, a huge lapse. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

But, if right now he didn’t act like it was the worst thing, he hated hated hated people seeing, nobody was supposed to see, weren’t nobody’s damn business! a big deal, it wouldn’t be, right?

Which is why Daryl decided to make no effort to cover up more at that moment, so that nothing would seem off. It made his skin crawl to not, it made him feel cornered, but he left the sheet where it was and decided to kick Y/N out.

Yet, strangely, instead of hoarsely grunting at them to 'leave him be' like he thought he was about to, he softly admitted, “Yeah.”

Y/N grabbed the clean, folded shirt and pants that Lori had brought and placed it beside him.“Here’s your pants, too, make it easier in the morning when you get discharged. Miss Patricia will come in and you’ll be all ready!” A nod at his untouched meal. “Want the plate to stay, or go?”

“Take it.”

“Positive? Carol, Lori, and Patricia went ham cookin’ the food. Literally, they cooked some salt ham, but there’s also a little of the fish left that Andy caught for me, if you’d prefer?” They tried to entice him more. “The green beans are fresh, the veggie casserole is creamy, and the mashed taters got fresh butter in ’em? There’s white and brown gravy…”

The thought of eating was tempting as hell, he’d give it that. He was hungry and the food smelled amazing. Still, he shook his head. The thought of putting a bite in his mouth made him feel sick.

Y/N looked a little disappointed, but accepted his decision with a tiny, forced smile. After a beat, their smile turned real. “You’ll get awarded MVP for not touchin’ your plate tonight,” they teased. “It’ll get shared well. I don’t reckon there’ll be crumbs left at the rate we’re hoovering it down, I-I accidentally already had thirds. But, um,” they added, biting their lip. “Dare, in a little while, please might can I bring you a bowl of dessert, in the least? You must be terrible hungry by now and you need to eat if you’re gonna heal, hon.”

He just sorta stared back, didn’t know what to answer yet. Them using a pet-name again wasn’t helping none.

This was no problem for Y/N, who seemed to have begun nervous-jabbering. “When I told Jimmy there was dessert, his eyes got all big. I’m not gonna lie, it was so darn cute. But I didn’t ruin the surprise and tell him what it is, I just winked and let him imagine. Do you wanna know what it is?”

His cheeks warmed. “What is it,” Daryl dutifully responded.

“It’s a surprise!” was the completely expected answer. Y/N looked very pleased. “But it involves hand-whipped cream,” they sing-songed.

___________________________

You

___________________________

You haven’t seen anyone’s mood here drop as low as Daryl’s has in the past few days, not since Andrea’s did after Amy died. Not even Shane after what happened to Otis, he’s handling the pain differently.

But just now when you enticed Daryl with the notion of whipped cream, he almost smiled, you saw it!

Victory!

And, before you went to Daryl’s room to see if he wanted more, you’d walked over to the big table and whispered in Shane’s ear that when dessert was served, he should wake Carl to give him a bowl and get “cool uncle points,” and he smiled, too!

Victory!

Why do you feel like you are personally responsible for holding everyone’s shit together?

Like, even at the dinner, after you’d burst out laughing, it felt so good to have eased the tension in the room, even if by accident. Then, when you heard the laughter dying down and the room going quiet again, you felt as if you’d just failed. So, you had to fix it.

Cue you to shove a big bite into your mouth and loudly moan about how good it was in the hopes that saying so would keep the momentum going. And prompt Hershel to accept your people, change his mind, keep your family safe, and keep everyone together because what if you personally aren’t trying hard enough or doing it the right way and things fall apart? Who’s fault will it be? Why does your stupid hand feel like Amy’s blood is on it again? Dale already explained how it’s ‘self-reproach because of survivor’s guilt,’ so why can’t you shake it off?

Okay, chill out, it’s not all on you. You’re not responsible, you cannot control and fix it all, it’s not all on you.

Surrender it up, and trust.

Offer it up and trust…

Thankfully, Theodore had joined in with your noise of appreciation, declaring, “I second that, mmm-mm!”

Good Moses, you could’ve legit knelt down and pledged him your fealty (or whatever it is squires did for knights in shining armor).

Heck, you were tempted to ignore the age difference and propose marriage to him instead, you were that relieved that he’d gone with it, because it prompted those at the big table to join.

Shane was right there for you, too. “This meal is hittin’ all the marks,” he quietly praised, “ain’t had grub this good in a while.”

Then there was a toast (thank you, Ricky and T-Dog), and things stayed fairly light after that. Light and comfortable.

And only during your last bite, when you noticed everyone else had seconds (…or thirds…), was it that you scrambled off, mid-chew, to Daryl’s room to see what he wanted for seconds and maybe convince him to join everyone.

Instead, you were met with an untouched plate and a man who’s voice could barely raise above a gruff whisper. So, you had to try and fix it, obviously, even if the only thing that would actually fix it is finding the little girl who everyone’s hearts have already mourned.

“Wha’ was so funny earlier?” Daryl suddenly surprises you by asking.

You snort. “We were trying to see who’d break first and laugh — this is at the kiddie table, by the way.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Psht,” you play-grumble. “But yeah, I lost the game big time. I’d just taken a very impolite sized-bite of food, too. Ain’t never swallowed a bite that big in my entire life, but I didn’t want to snarf in front of everyone!” Way to overshare, weirdo. “Oh, right, you’ll probably want to know the joke,” you remember. You can get scatterbrained when you’re carrying on. “What’s a pirate’s favorite letter?”

“A pirate’s what?”

“Favorite letter.”

“A pirate’s favorite…” Daryl makes a low, soft hum as he exhales. “Didn’t, uh, wasn’t most pirates illiterate?”

“Bro.”

“I dunno, um, the…P,” is the gem he comes up with.

Bless his heart, has Daryl never heard the ‘arrr’ joke before?

“Why a P?” you’ve simply gotta know.

“P…P for pirate, and peg-leg and um, eye-patch, and, the uh, they got parrots. That’s a lotta Ps.”

The immediate gut reaction you have is the strong desire to gasp with delight and smooch him square on the lips WHAT THE, why did his answer turn you on?? Oopsy lol, yeah, gross, no way. You meant to say, um, ah,…?!?

Anyway, you unfortunately end up squealing, “Oh Lord, that was hot.”

It’s fine, you slip in a ‘dude’ right after. “C’mon, dude, what do pirates say? Like the, the sound they make in movies and books?”

“I don’t, uh…'Yo-ho…ho?'”

That’s now you, belly-laughing, even as it makes your stitches pinch more. “No, the noise they make, like, when they’re mad or tryin’ act all scary.”

Hold the darn phone, is he — good Moses in heaven with the angels and saints, Daryl Dixon is blushing.

He’s gone from plain to red splotches on his cheeks, it’s visible even in the low lighting. The inconvenient butterflies start fluttering around in your stomach again, but this is such an unexpected treat, who cares? Ha!

“No way you’re turnin’ red, nerd,��� you whisper.

“Stop,” he grunts in his way, and his eyes are crinkled and his mouth is threatening to grin.

A pleasing shiver travels down when you scrunch your pointer finger into a hook. “Arrr,” you enunciate with spot-on cartoonish flair, if you say so yourself.

His eyes shut when the punchline hits him. “Sonofa—it’s R, then?”

Hot damn, is this joke satisfying. “R? Nay nay, boy, ’tis the C!”

___________________________

Him

___________________________

That he’d gone from wishing he were left for dead in a ditch to laughing out loud in the few minutes his friend was in the room with him…Y/N was something else.

A weirdo, too.

The dessert was ambrosia, by the way, Y/N eventually came back into the room with two bowls of it. “Ambrosia” was a loose term; it didn’t have none of the usual stuff but for the pecans and cream dressing.

“It’s peach, raspberry, wild blueberry and pecan ambrosia with hand-whipped cream — Glenn won’t even know to miss the marshmallows!” Y/N had chirped.

Him telling them it was “knockoff ambrosia” (as a joke) only lead to them pursing their lips, giggling, then immediately going back to happily twittering on how: “Lori hand-whipped it to make it extra special, and Carol added a mite bit of buttermilk to get the tang it needs. Can’t wait to taste how it came out…”

Their little food dance as they took the first bite was cute.

And shiiit, the little moan they made as they shut their eyes and tilted their head back shouldn’t have been enough to turn his thoughts sexual, but yeahhh did it. The cabin fever was apparently messing with his dick, too, great.

But, like, why did Y/N say something he did was “hot?” Was it slang for something else, other than what he knew it usually meant?

“Dare, what do you think?” Another quiet, hummed moan, and then Y/N opened their eyes and saw that he hadn’t tasted any. “Oh, Daryl, c’mon and try some? It’s heavenly. I think I’m dying, it’s so yummy.”

Nah. As good as Y/N was making it seem, he couldn’t, and so, shook his head.

But then his friend said something that, weird as it was, for some reason hit the nail on the head for him once more. It was as if there Y/N was, seeing his soul bare-naked again.

“If I were your confessor,” they began so casual-like, “other than explaining how accidental injury ain’t sinful, I’d tell you your penance was to eat what’s in front of you.”

Y/N almost took another bite as if in example, but hesitated before the spoon reached their lips. The light expression they wore dimmed and turned serious. “All you’ve gone through this week isn’t divine justice, that ain’t how God operates. It was an accident. Just like Sophia. It, it wasn’t no test or punishment what happened to her. It was just a… a bad thing,” they hushed, eyes fixed on their bowl, spoon. With an empty half-laugh, they mumbled, “Suddenly can’t stand the thought of food, now, neither.”

With that, Y/N put the bowl to the side and didn’t seem to know what to do next other than maybe cry, by the look of them.

Daryl would’ve missed it if he’d gone back to spacing out and wallowing, but from the corner of his eye he noticed them wipe their palm on their knee a few times as if to dry it off.

He recognized what was going on, or was pretty sure, anyway.

After Amy got killed, Y/N had this messed up thing go on with the hand, the one they’d used to try and stop her from bleeding out. For a few days, it felt to them as if Amy’s blood was still on it and wouldn’t clean off.

Back when Sophia first went missing, he noticed their hand thing came back a little that first afternoon.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s clean.”

“What is?”

“Your hand.”

They took an extra beat to respond. “I-I know. It’s nothin'.”

“It’s clean,” he repeated, which resulted in Y/N bowing their head. “Ain’t nothing there, Y/N. Lemme see?”

His friend lifted their head back up, raised their hand for him, and shrugged. “Dale says it’s a guilt thing.”

Yeah, he could see that.

“It's not on you to fix everyone’s everything,” he needed to say. Y/N seemed like they didn’t remember that sometimes.

“Ayy, way to come at me with a hammer,” his friend answered with a dry smile. “I know I can’t fix everyone’s stuff,” they spoke carefully, their throat sounded tight. “But we’re called to help, right? After how far things have fallen, we’re called even more now to, to bring, you know, that, that light, to do what we can. And, and,” they stuttered, then took a deep breath. “I dunno. Before all this—did you ever feel like your life was stagnant? Like you was just...existing?”

Did Y/N know how well they could hit the nail on the head?

Yes, Daryl felt like his life was stagnant, it fucking was, he was a nobody! Didn’t do shit with his life, he’d just…rotted, and fixed up bikes in whatever direction his brother drifted. “Yeah.”

“That’s how I was was for years, too. Kinda floated one day after another, just tryin’ to make it to the next.”

Daryl stayed quiet. Yet again, they’d hit the nail on the goddamned head and he wanted Y/N to keep on talking.

And Y/N did, they kept chatting very matter-of-fact. “It got better, ev-eventually, I um, I got help, and then started forcin’ myself to do stuff, get out in the community, all that. Healed a bit.” They swirled their spoon around the bowl. “It didn’t fix everything boom, like: I still felt stagnant a lot, or like a failure, or that things were all my fault, still sometimes wanted to die really bad,” they shared with a shrug, very chill. “But that’s why we can’t rely on feelings, right?”

The invisible string was tugging Daryl’s whole damn torso toward them at this point and he just wanted to hold them to him and — shit, sorry, uh, he meant he wanted to pat ’em on the back, at least.

“Really, it was when the, um,” his friend bit their lip. “This is gonna sound weird.”

“Prolly, if it’s you we’re talkin’ about,” he ribbed, completely dead-pan.

His friend liked it, and even taunted back all goofy, “sure is, betch,” before their smile fell away. After a beat, Y/N quietly, quietly told him the rest. “It was when the…outbreaks happened, that I-I didn’t have to force it anymore. There was suddenly such a, a, a clear duty, clear sense of purpose, I dunno. Just—so much to do, so much to live for, and,” a big exhale, “so much work to be done.”

That explained a lot. Y/N tended to go hard, burn the candle at both ends, if that’s the right phrase.

In fact, he flat-out said so. “Is that why you push too damn hard to be ‘useful?’”

“Again with the hammer on the nail, dude. And, no, it’s—” Y/N found their words. “When you think how w-we, we might could get killed, at any second, any one of us. And how we’ll look back on it all, all our choices, and then answer what we did ‘for the least here on earth’…”

Ah, that checked out, too.

It was something, to see someone still believe in all that stuff after the world fucking ended, he’d give it that.

He used to, too. Not that he’d been any good at it.

Didn’t matter, he didn’t anymore. Not after the dead started walking.

“Now, before Teddy materializes in here to scold me, I get that ‘It’s not through our own efforts.’ And the problem I have with feelin’ worthless is a separate issue my faith helps tackle. Now, I know it ain’t about racking up works of mercy, but, dude—there’s so much work to do! And I want to do as much as —” Y/N shook their head a few times as if shaking out of it. “Sorry, I-I’ma just quit while I’m ahead, here. Oversharing Olympics.”

“Mm.” Hey, it was. “But that’s part of the deal with friends, right?” he murmured while trying to think of a good way to razz on them. “Means you trust ’em.” Y/N tended to make light about everything, so a tease would do ’em good, right? “It, like, Sunday or somethin’, preacher?”

The tease might’ve missed the mark that time, if he was seeing it correctly.

“Friday,” was all his friend mumbled back, and looked embarrassed as shit. The forced smile they offered in return — it made Daryl’s side ache more, somehow. And the way Y/N then sat there, curling their feet in and looking as if they felt…just about as small as Daryl did?

It was as if the invisible knee to the nards was connected to the invisible tugging string on his chest, because while that knee to the nards got him good, he felt that strange string tug toward Y/N big-time.

It was next, when Y/N stood up and moved to take the dishes out, that something very forceful moved in Daryl that had him sitting himself upright (sort of upright) and reaching for his bowl and spoon (oww) before his friend could get to it.

“It’s still good without the cherries and the marshmallows?”

His friend blinked. “Th-there are some, uh, it’s technically got those mini freeze-dried ones, as an extra-surprise.” They tilted their head, squinting at him in a way not unlike how Rick squinted at shit. “The Greene’s had some hot chocolate packets in the back of the pantry, we separated the marshmallows out.”

“That’s a lot of work,” Daryl commented, scooping a spoonful. Looked real pink because of the raspberries.

Y/N next twisted their mouth and almost seemed shy, when they realized what he was about to do.

It made Daryl feel good, seeing them spark up like that. And their shy smile was damn cute, as always.

“Oh, here, try mine if you’re only havin’ a bite,” Y/N asked, holding out their own bowl to him.

“Nah, m’gonna do the whole thing. It being penance and all,” he grunted, then waved his spoon at them. “You, too, go on. Do your penance.”

“My penance?”

“Yeah.” Oh goddamn, the stuff was delicious. “Have a seat, eat up.”

His friend settled on the side of the bed, still looking as if he’d caught them off-guard. They watched him eat for a few moments, and, Daryl had a random, unusual worry that he was eating too sloppy. But holy shit, fresh fruit and whipped cream!

He glanced over mid-scarfing to see Y/N nibbling on (no lie) half a pecan.

“Quit playing with yer food.”

This earned him a small huff and a “I’m savoring it.”

“White lies cost a quarter, remember.”

The amount of attitude Y/N next put into their next bite was funny. “I’b also sduffed a’ready, banjy hick,” they added with their mouth full.

Don’t smile too big, Daryl. “Penance is penance.”

“But pedaces ca be cobooted.”

Don’t smile too big! “They can be what?”

Y/N apologized, swallowed their food and their giggle, and repeated: “Penances can be commuted.”

“They can travel to work?” was his idea of a dumb joke, and this time it did the trick and he made them burst out laughing a second time.

Y/N broke into a laugh so hard they hinged forward and caused some of the cream dressing to get onto their shirt right before their spoon clattered to the floor.

“Laughing like that still hurts, you butt,” his friend wheezed, pressing their arm to their stitched-up side. They coughed a few times, still giggling, and when they thudded their chest a few times they winced. “Ow, bruise. And Lore just washed this top, too.” Another snort. “My fault for bein’ a sucker for dumb jokes, I guess. ”

“Ain’t nobody’s fault, just an accident,” he got the immediate urge to tell them, and so, did.

In response, Y/N looked at him with an expression he wasn’t sure how to read. It wasn’t a bad expression. Then, because that expression made his stomach do more flippy-floppies, Daryl gestured to their bowl again, and Y/N obligingly took another spoonful.

“Dis is so gub,” they hummed softly after taking the bite.

“Damned tasty for knockoff ambrosia,” he had to admit, joining along with another scoop of that damned tasty knockoff ambrosia.

“Do’d even deed deh bigger barshballows.”

Y/N was so fucking cute sometimes. “Or cherries.” He loved the cherries the best, after the marshmallows.

Y/N swallowed their bite.“Or the mandarins.”

“Or the pineapple.” His third favorite part.

“Oh, or the coconut,” Y/N realized, then thought out loud, “Shucks, this is a knockoff.”

“Tasty knockoff, I’d eat it again in a heartbeat,” Daryl murmured. He couldn’t believe his bowl was already empty. “Y/N, you just say ‘shucks?’”

“Shut up.” His friend shook their head and smiled. “Y’know, Daryl, this is prolly one of the top five penances I’ve ever gotten.”

“Top five?”

“One time I got ‘buy yourself something nice that you’ll get good use from. It’s okay if it’s a little expensive, it’s okay if it’s a little frivolous.’ Almost a direct quote, that. I’d been bein’ too, um,” they cleared their throat, “the priest thought I was a bit too hard on myself.”

Daryl knew whatever came next had to be something good, based on his friend’s playful little grin.

“That’s how I bought me my PS3. Pre-owned, so it was a solid deal, and it got very good use.” And with a wistful sounding exhale, they finished, “I miss that thing.” Y/N wiggled their bowl at him. “Please help me with this?”

Daryl’s mouth watered. The stuff tasted so good. Fresh, creamy, sweet, tangy.

Y/N raised their eyebrows at him and smiled.

“If I gotta,” he grunted back.

“Thanks for the assist. Plus, it’s penance.”

“Mm, guess I have to." Oh yeah, big scoop. "If it’s penance.”

------------------------------------------

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-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 ; @its-freaking-bats​​​​ ; @whistlesalot ; @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer ;  @dreamingaboutthewonderland ; @kwazii-kat ; @darylsmavis ; @outlanderhornet22 ; @battinsonrobs ; @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable ; @writingmybeloved ; @boomergirl123 ; @iheartathena0 ; @moonliight-luv ; @suniloli ; @supernaturalgirl02 ; @cnake-garden ; @daryldixmedown ; @sophehe ; @crashlyrose ; @virgo-sunflower920 ; @jennythe ; @theficbaker ; @vampireautism ; @rosetta196 ; @wifeof-barnes ; @thegemthatreads ; @olive-branch-witch-library

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes. Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox! We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)  

[bucketspammer4life]

☆ WVBA Sleepover ☆

This is what i imagine if all the boxers had a sleepover, i had so much fun doing this, imagine the ref as your dad telling you and your friends to shut up at 4 AM in the morning during your sleepover

Glass Joe

- actually trying to sleep

- enjoyed watching movies

- keeps picking truth while playing truth and dare and pissing off everyone

- "guys shut up my moms calling i gotta take this"

- sore loser of any pillow fights that take place

Von Kaiser

- cant sleep because they keep annoying him

- "guys let Joe speak to his mom"

- screamed while watching a horror movie and keeps getting made fun of for it

- if you pick dare while playing truth and dare with him, hes gonna be so evil and cruel

- keeps getting pillows thrown at him by Macho Man

Disco Kid

- wont sleep, at all

- "Tell her i said hi, Joe"

- laughed at a character getting decapitated while watching a horror movie and freaked everyone out

- came up with the brilliant idea of playing "she's/he's a ten but.."

- tries to protect kaiser from the pillow strikes

- had the very great idea of doing karaoke at 3 am in the morning, Got told to shut up by the ref

- keeps picking dare while playing truth and dare, if you choose dare while playing with him, he'll make you dance or sing

Piston Hondo

- really sleepy but doesnt want to sleep because he knows that he'll get pranked (let my boy sleep, hes tired, hes a little eepy)

- trying to help joe ve able to speak to his mom, doing his best

- made a pillow fort to hide from the pillow fight

- if you choose dare while playing truth and dare with him, he'll say something dumb like "scream from the balcony" if you pick truth he'll ask really unhinged questions like "have you ever wanted to kill someone"

- completely silent during the movie,either enjoying it or traumatized

King Hippo

- runmaging through the kitchen, Just hungry

- screaming behind Joe as he tries to talk to his mom

- "hi mom i-"

- "HUAAGGHHHHHGGGHHHHHHH"

- aran ryan thinks its hilarious

- ref chased him with a chair at some point from the screaming

- pretended to be watching the movie but he watched the back of his eyelids instead

Great Tiger

- doing his best not to fall asleep

- "say hi to her for me joe!!"

- winner of the pillow fight thanks to his clones

- keeps asking personal stuff during truth and dare

- "kaiser, what is your deepest, darkest fear?"

- "questions like these"

- keeps yelling at the characters in the horror movie

- "WHY WOULD YOU GO TO THE BASEMENT THE DOOR IS COVERED İN BLOOD!!-"

- tamest dares ever, the fuck is "i dare you to roll on the floor" about

Don Flamenco

- passed out for a while, got his wig (i know its not a wig but its funny to say he got his wig stolen, come on) stolen & had a game of tic tac toe played on his humoungus forehead

- annoying Joe as he tries to speak to his mom by imitating a womans voice while saying really concerning stuff

- kept getting his wig (its funny to say that shut up) knocked off during the pillow fight

- traumatized by the horror movie, 1000 yard stare during it

- played "she's/he's a ten but.." And ended up finding out everyones type

- so much gossip oh my god

-keeps pulling the classic "who do you have a crush on?" during truth and dare

Bear Hugger

- someone keeps whispering dumb stuff in his ear while hes trying to sleep and he keeps laughing at it, mind you it isnt just a little "teehee" either its a entire ass tornado siren, keeps scaring everyone with his laugh

- whacked most during the pillow fight, may he rest in peace

- keeps asking dumb stuff during truth and dare, bear what do you mean by "i dare you to tapdance"

- also yelling at the actors during the horror movie

-" YOU HAVE A HAMMER BEAT HIM WITH IT- NO DONT THROW IT AT HIM"

- also gossiping

Soda Popinski

- pretends to be awake, didnt get noticed sleeping somehow

- saying dumb stuff while Joe tries to talk to his mom

-" sorry for the noise m-"

-" WE ARE DOING DRUGS."

- keeps laughing at the horror movie

- keeps picking dare while playing truth and dare, got dared to beat the ref into the ground by aran ryan, got sad because he got stopped

- wrecking everyone during the pillow fight

Bald Bull

-trying to not fall asleep, struggling clearly, refuses to admit it

- "bull you look like a raccoon please get some sleep"

- "im fine dont worry"

- zoned out during the movie so he didnt have much of a reaction

- keeps picking truth while playing, hates the personal questions

- physically there, mentally not

- 5th to pass out suprisingly

-Just hiding behind hondos fort while watching the pillow fight

Super Macho Man

- keeps whispering dumb stuff while everyones trying to sleep

- saying even more concerning stuff while Joe tries to talk to his mom

- "mom theyre just-"

-"STEAL HIS COCK, BOYS."

- got beaten half to death during the pillow fight

- also traumatized by the horror movie

- gossiping (as he should, PURR)

Aran Ryan

- this fucking menace. Said sleep is for the weak & proceeded to pass out, before that he just kept whispering "penis." while everyone was trying to sleep

- got duct taped to the ceiling by sandman & fell asleep there

- put rocks in his pillow during the pillow fight, still got his shit ROCKED

- kept talking during the movie

- "oh my god i swear if she doesnt push him down the stairs-"

-"shut up"

- the only person he didnt bother was bull, this was only because he was concerned

- did some prank calls but got caught during the 4th call

Mr Sandman

- didnt bother anyone

- "LET JOE SPEAK TO HIS MOM FUCKING DAMN IT"

- really quiet

- was out for blood during the pillow fight

- taped aran ryan to the ceiling

- listened to the gossip

Extra

King hippo fell asleep last on the kitchen floor

Aran ryan fell on top of glass joe when the tape broke while he was asleep, you havent known true fear until a irishman on your ceiling falls on you, both of them broke some bones

Ref got a headache after all this

King hippo kept running around the house until 6 AM

The idea of taping aran ryan to the ceiling came from von kaiser since his dad did that once

[sapphicdib]

NO GODS NO MASTERS // IM MY OWN DISASTER!!!

(ˡᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵘᵐᵖ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘᵗ)

This is from an au where Sig n Pebbles purposefully give themselves the rot while their citizens are still alive! >:D

Basically, imagine if Pebbles didn’t turn all his anger inwards towards himself and instead externalized it. Although Pebbles and Sig don’t get along all that well, Pebbles realized she was going to be the only one who could help him pull this off, since he is one of the local group’s best bioengineers…and also easy to convince to do stupid shit for the bit. So they make a virus that can rewrite their code, specifically removing the “cant harm your citizens” restriction, but they also got rid of any other taboos that they found tedious or annoying lmfao. Originally Pebbles was going to be the only one who gets infected, but after Sig works on it with him for like 1000 cycles, he’s like “I might as well reap the benefits of this!” and gives himself the rot too.

MOON AND SUNS FREAK OUT <3 Their citizens, once they realize what’s going on, ALSO freak out, and this causes a fracture in ancient society as a whole, with one camp claiming they should shut the iterators down completely and kill them, and the others immediately grovelling at their god’s feet, hoping they don’t choose to infect themselves as well. Sig n Pebbs are trying to get Moon n Suns to join them, but it’s not working very well. Between the growing fear that both their own citizens AND their friends are becoming threats to them, they are not having a good time :) Sig n Pebbs are tho hehe. Ironically they become better friends as time goes on because the rot creates a sort of hive mind effect between the two of them PFFT.

To sum it up:

Pebbles: Someone will die.

NSH: Of fun!

NSH: …someones still gonna die, though ~

and to leave you with a silly little horrifying detail: sig breaks his neck in a physical fight with suns and by the point this happens the rot has essentially destroyed his body’s ability to heal, so for the rest of the story her head just. dangles slightly to the side held up only by the cushion of her scarf LOL combined with the thousand yard stare she looks a mess

Hope you like it PFFT I’ve written a couple drabbles for it but imma shut up now ^_^ feel free to send me asks n stuff if you want!!!!!!

[popcornforone]

Unspoken

A Silva Fic

Day 4 of Pedrotober

Masterlist

When I did the first draft of this it was 3 paragraphs. When I did an edit it became 5. Now day 4 of Pedrotober is very much an observation about our favourite man on a ranch & what you’d do to him. Yea I got carried away with this one.

Synopsis:- You’ve admired Silva for years but now circumstances give you the chance to speak to him.

Word count:-1000

Warnings over & above:- masturbation, age gap of at least 15 years, peeping Tom & perving, admiring from a far, obsession, very descriptive of imagining possible sexual encounters.

Thanks for the read people (how are we already on day 4) thanks @norththelemon & @alyssamariag for the prompts as always .

You’ve never spoken to him, but each day you watch as the grumpy old man at the ranch “next door” cleans his horses & prepares them & sweeps his dust off his porch, you can’t help but stare. The man is rather magnificent, strong & handsome.

You watch the man with the silver flecks in his hair. With the red plaid flannel, as he sips his water from the pale. How delicately he washes his hands, such large hands. The way the sun shine through his slightly greying hair. The broad shadow he casts on the ground as he’s so large. He is the man of your dreams, & often those dreams are spicy.

Everyday he walks one of his older horses around the area, not willing to put it down yet but knows it can still move a little. He always nods his cowboys hat to you & your parents. He’s always been at this ranch as long as you can remember, but you’ve never really been introduced. I mean you are probably of more interest to his son, you are similar ages in your early 20s. A man who is at least 45 would never take an interest in you. You can dream it but it will never happen.

That was until the morning commotion, you spied on the whole thing through your bedroom window, with your binoculars, as you did everyday, just to get a glimpse of him searching for his underpants in the draw. Wondering if you will get a look at his delicious peach. You know he sleeps naked, you’ve often seen the out line of his penis as he blows out the evening flame reflecting in the shadow before it all goes dark.

Silva shot a sherif on the day it all kicked off, but the sherif didn’t leave for a good 4 week’s afterwards. He vowed to never see him again. You heard the shouts & the arguments. You saw Silvas body slump in reaction before he headed to the porch to ponder, clearly feeling sorry for himself as he watched the sherif leave. This was your moment. To make friends with the man on the next ranch, to finally speak to him & show solidarity with him. Flirting could come later. His son hadn’t been there since his sherif arrived.

You put on your boots & walked the half mile up the road, the ranch you’d observed for so long you were now stepping into. The dust coating your throat quickly, the horses naying in yard. You slowly approach the porch & sigh. He’s rocking back & forth in his chair, his cowboy hat over his head as he is probably asleep. His foot tapping, his left hand clutching a red bandana. He looks so peaceful, so handsome & manly.

You don’t want to interrupt, you’d be happy to stare at this work of art for a long time.

You cough & he sits up. He almost rocks his chair back a bit too much.

“Hey” you say in a squeaky tone. Trying not to blush.

“Hey, did your parents send you up here?” He asks as he lifts his head up. That beard is even more magnificent in close proximity, even if it’s patchy & those glorious dark brown eyes look back at you.

“No” you say shyly. “I just saw the sherif leave & wondered if everything was okay, he’s been here a while” you stand awkwardly, trying to not be effected by the beauty of this older man, & wonder what he could teach you or do to you. Your thoughts betray you.

“He had but he’s gone now, our business is done” he says tapping his foot still as he rocks. The hand not holding the bandana rubs his own thigh.

“I just thought I’d check you didn’t need us for anything”

“No not yet but please tell your father that I might need to borrow one of his horses for a few days.”

“Yes mr Silva” you blush & he smirks as this happens. You like being obedient in lots of respects, but this he enjoyed a bit too much.

“Afternoon” he says dismissing the end of the conversation, pulling the hat down over his eyes not wanting to be disturbed anymore. You wait a few seconds shifting awkwardly before you head back to your own ranch. You may have missed an opportunity for more but now you have spoken to him, next time it won’t be as hard to approach the older man, to say a few more insightful things, build some trust which could blossom into who knows what.

You tell your dad that Silva may require assistance going forward, as you sit at the dinner table that night. Not hungry for food but hungry for the beast of the man just a few minutes away, consuming your every thought. An obsession which is now forming part of you, more than just a glance or a crush. You have made contact & had a conversation, this was now more. So it’s not a surprise to you that it is Silva’s name you moan into your pillow that night as you masturbate thinking of him. Wondering if he’d be gentle or rough. Would he want you on top or not? Would he expect oral delights & if he did would he give back as good as he got? How good his fingers tongue & cock would feel inside you, & how your small mouth would moan for him for hours until the sun came up.

You have no idea at his ranch, he’s moaning your name too. Smitten after his encounter with someone so young & vibrant. He lays in bed jerking his length, watching the ropes of cum spill over his hand thighs & bedding, wondering why the heck anyone like you would be interested in an old broken cowboy like him.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Also. I just had the fluffiest flip side thought for Benny and Lu….

Need to hear it!!

OK, so as we are talking about all the sadness and angst of when Lu isolates herself due to Spencer from her leaders and advisors -that is the Trinity, etc.- I got to thinking of how the reverse happens when she starts to date Benny.

But incognito. She doesn’t mean to let slip things, it’s early days but she’s just so happy and comfortable it leaches into every aspect of her life and makes her happier and more comfortable in everything and with every one. that’s Benny’s effect

So imagine:

Maureen getting a random call from a flustered Lu asking in oddly specific and pleading tones about the health and safety of a man “kissing down- well…down there!! For a long time? Candy don’t laugh, please don’t la- if it’s for a long time is it alright? Will he be alright? Or will I? What if he spit on it? I mean -what if he spits on it, hypothetically…”

Maureen getting a 1000 yard stare on the other end of the line wondering who on God’s green earth is eating Lu’s pussy for an hour?

Ida getting a call to be asked about some dating protocol Lu never gave a damn about before. “If you really trust him would you- well I know you said to be careful about owing men anything but if he’s really safe, Ida, don’t you think it would be ok this once to let him -a guy, I mean just this guy, do me this favor?”

Rosie Rosenthal thinks Ida is gonna faint when he watches her try to be casual when replying.

Gale Cleven getting a random call from his child asking in a really dreamy voice about when he was friends with Maureen how did he “know when she was the one?”

After hanging up he barges into Maureen’s closet and demands to know the roster of likely friend candidates who’re making Lu soft headed enough to ask that

Bucky Egan havin lunch with the girl as he likes to do when in town, which he often is for no other reason than to see her, gettin asked by little Lu if “as a man, would you still like it if a girl who likes you gives you flowers?”

[gx-gameon]

I can only imagine Jaden's internal screaming when his friends start talking about Yugi and comment on how they wonder what his career would be so different if he wasn't a parent. Only people in the group I can imagine asking that would be Syrus, Hassleberry, or Atticus given their personalities.

He’s sitting there with a 1000 yard stare while these dummies are talking about how much more successful his dad would be without him.

Note Yugi and Seto are at the top of their field they just don’t make as many public appearances, more because of privacy, both for Jaden and themselves.

Yes Jaden being adopted changed their lives, but Yugi’s position of king of games can only be lost if he loses. He’s got enough support to have someone watch Jaden while he duels. Plus Seto has so much money having a kid young didn’t affect them to much. Yes there are young adult experiences they missed. But you also can’t convince me Seto Kaiba would be the sort of individual to go clubbing late into the night or host college like ragers. Yugi, Joey and Tristian I could see going out every now and then especially if Téa’s in town, but Seto Kaiba no, he’s working late.

Having a kid might have kept them from some of that but I don’t think it truly affected their careers just because of how different their fields are and the money Kaiba already had giving them a lot of flexibility.

The gossip rags like to speculate on what they missed out on or how the Prince of games is “keeping” them from making appearances, but that’s not truely the case.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when your friends start taking about how your adoption ruined your parents lives