#honestly i had so much fun writing this because i can just imagine them (all dressed up mind you) tucked in a corner of the room

[valentine-cafe]

Hi there! I normally walk just past this place, but something smelled particularly good. The croissant, maybe? Chocolate? (Dark content, smut)

Yeah so like this is a bit of a weird ask and I know that... but the aesthetics of your page just made me think of an enigma whose body was like that of taffy? Squishy, soft, sticky, and most importantly, stretchy. I was thinking reader would be a man, who was working for the Resistance but ended up in the clutches of some very nefarious people.

Maybe they can start out with just invasive physicals, but it slowly worsens and... yeah. Do as much as you feel comfortable with, please!

Yours truly, Hush~

. ˚◞♡ 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒃𝒕𝒕𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 209 jingyi / bttm male reader ꒱ you caught the mad doctor's eye. he hated the idea of feeling attracted to an experiment. and no matter how much he tried to sate it, he needed to get his hands on you

𖹭. content warnings◞  dark content . experimentation on reader . implied torture . dub con . mind control . explicit content . rough sex . penetrative sex . 0.7k

𖹭. receipts◞  glad that you decided to stop by dear customer<3 one croissant coming up! this honestly was so much fun to write and quickly became my favourite request because I have been itching to write some dark stuff with the herrera husbands<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

𖹭. the mad doctor of valence has certainly seen many peculiar enigma around, but you by far were quite the special case. he is well aware of the classification of “body morphers” under the enigma hat, but you caught his eye in quite the special way.

𖹭. jìngyí had seen you around his brother a few times. he was uncertain why the depths of his soul burned with bitterness. he assumes it was the idea of an enigma type being out there that he had not quite explored. in reality it was you. the fact that a lowly enigma had sparked his interest in a way he never thought it would.

𖹭. he was disgusted, yet thrilled. like a snake eager to sink its fangs into new prey. one can imagine his excitement when his husband admitted to the same dark desires.

𖹭. lucky them. you’d found yourself caught in the last hunt and now found yourself along an examination table. jìngyí did well in exploring your limits. how far your body could go. viscosity? durability? compressibility, torsion, extensibility and temperature? oh he was salivating like a kid in the candy store.

𖹭. he especially loved the way that you would scream. how your voice would change depending on the shape and condition your elastic body was in. he found himself especially fascinated with how you’d cry when his hand would bury into your squishy side or around your sticky neck. even your tears tasted sweet.

𖹭. no matter all his experiments, he couldn’t rid himself of those dark desires that plagued his very being. so what better than to offer you a place in his circus? to perform, to live - while he induced you with a mind control mechanic?

𖹭. oh how you begged for him. how he adored the way your body would wrap around him and cling like a lovesick fool while he pounded your tight, gummy walls. one strong arm wrapped around whatever amalgamation your figure took while the other palmed at your squishy ass.

𖹭. you felt amazing. his mind would swim with pleasure every time his thick cock buried and throbbed into your warmth. he’d cream you so many times an over. it mattered how much or how long he fucked you over whatever surface he could find — he’d always end up cum drunk.

𖹭. jìngyí would be in a state when you started wrapping around him more intensely. extending your hands to provide him more pleasure as well. he’d bite down on whatever soft, messy flesh he could and buck his hips into yours like a feral animal.

“god you are so tight,”

a pant. a ragged groan. snake pupils constrict and his lips part. displaying fangs extended and blood on his tongue. soon to be more when he buried his cold face into your chest and bit again.

“h-hngh fuck -” your hand reaches to cling onto his hip. feel the way that he’s pounding your poor ass raw. filling it to the brim and fucking out his cum onto your thighs from the sheer intensity of his thrusts.

“d-don’t stop - dontstopdontstopdont -”

you choke out when strong fingers squeeze around your dick. a calloused thumb rubbing messy circles around your tip.

“you are disgusting.” the deep hiss finds your ear. followed by a hiccupping moan. his brows crease and he messily thumps his hips against yours as he tenses and squirts your walls white once more.

“d-disgusting little creature. but ah, d-damn. . . do you feel so good.”

he’d hoist you up. twisting your limps into whatever way he wishes as he presses you up against the examination table and goes for a third round. a fourth. a fifth. anything to ease this insatiable sweet tooth.

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[loserboyfriendrjl]

"am i the only one who thinks this soiree is utterly boring?" sirius asked, sliding, on the hardwood floors, towards regulus. "everyone is talking about politics, and mother is laughing that fake laugh of hers again; who told her it sounds pretty? is lucius always this annoying, or is he just trying his hardest today?"

regulus smirked. "unfortunately for everyone in his vicinity, he is always like this. i can't understand how she," he said, nodding to their cousin, "stands him. if i see him anywhere in narcissa's proximity, i will shove that," he said, pointing to the glass in sirius' hand, "down his throat."

"and make sure he chokes on it, please. have you seen the way he dressed today? absolutely distasteful." sirius tsked, grinning at regulus. "bellatrix is fighting with rodolphus, druella, and cygnus all at once. i think she's set a new record at being an absolute priss, hasn't she?"

regulus chuckled. "nothing new, then. i, personally, am still laughing at zabini's dress. who told her that such a huge bow would make an impact, rather than make everyone in the room glare at her?" he asked, stifling a laugh.

"i've no clue, but she looks horrible, for a woman who claims to be such an elegant lady. hey, wanna ditch and go smoke in the rose garden?"

regulus smiled. "after you, my kind man."

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Heyyy you were asking for recs for the Fire Breathing Roommate right???

Imagine Mitsuki coming to reader and Katsuki’s apartment for his birthday and reader’s like who is THIS goddess at my doorstep like- And Katsuki’s like: Babe- that’s my mother.

I just think it would be SO FUNNY to try to celebrate Katsuki’s birthday the way humans do - because I bet dragons celebrate them very differently. So when reader gives him a big wrapped box and a cake that’s ON FIRE he’s like OH MY GOD THE WORLD IS ENDING

oh my god. you are literally a GENIUS THIS IS SOOOO GOOD AND HONESTLY ADORABLE !!! i had sm fun writing this n i hope you enjoy ! <3 if you guys have any more fbbcXtra requests, feel free to send em to me !! ps. this was way longer than i planned it to be which is funny cus this is supposed to be a mini extra's series, but oh well ! i had fun writing ! and i hope you enjoy reading as well !

♡ extra #2 : birthday battle ♡

in which : you celebrate katsuki’s birthday but you end up getting a surprise.

you wake up like usual in the morning, enjoying your day off as you laze around in bed, shuffling the most you can with the big dragon man’s arms around you, snuggly trapping you in his snake like hold and his tail warm and draped on top of your legs beneath the sheets.

just like usual, except things are a little different today and you crack a smile when you manage to free your head from his iron grip.

today is katsuki’s birthday.

he'd told you about it a few month ago in passing, and ever since you found out you'd planned everything meticulously, hence your day off, so you could make his first birthday here as memorable as possible.

you look up at his relaxed sleeping face with a soft smile, before pressing a small kiss to his chin. then another one to his nose and you giggle quietly when his nose twitches. he grouses quietly in response when you lean up and kiss him again, the corner of his mouth, his cheeks and the ones on his eyelids make him grumble. his arms around your waist squeeze.

"s'too early fer you to be botherin' me, human.." the blonde man slurs. one of his red eyes opens to peek at your smiling face, your smile widening seeing him awake. you press another kiss to the tip of his nose and he grunts in appreciation.

"s'never too early to wish a happy birthday to my dragon man." you croon. katsuki closes his eyes at your affection, but his eyebrows furrow in confusion and his grip on you gets tighter somehow.

"that's what you woke me up for ?"

"of course it is, it's your birthday !" he flops down onto his back on the bed and you break out of his hold to sit up, leaning on your shoulder to watch him. he throws an arm over his eyes but the one closest to you feels around the bed for you.

"babe, it's really not that big of a deal." he utters simply.

he'd told you, and you'd assumed, that dragons celebrate and see birthdays way differently than humans do. it's somewhat of a celebration, but not for very long. dragonshifter where usually raised to be able to hold their own; being taught to be indepented and skilled fighters from a very young age.

"it depends from faction to faction," is what he'd said, "but birth celebrations usually don't last any longer than a few minutes. and we don't do whole birthdays like you do. most ya get is a pat on the back and the most to eat for dinner." he had shrugged. a frown pulled at your face and he smirked at you, ruffling your hair as he told you not to get 'all mopey' for him, and that he didn't mind. but in that moment your mind was set.

you'd get him to experience a human birthday. and it'd be his best one ever.

you pout at him, nudging his arms and he groans despite only barely budging like jello. "it is a big deal ! i wanna be able to celebrate with you." you place your head on his chest. he lifts his arm just a bit to look at you. "birthdays are so much fun, i wanna show you that..i planned everything out too-"

"you planned this out ?" he squints.

"-pleaseee ?" you plead, ignoring his earlier question. the blonde huffs out a large sigh and covers his eyes again.

"fine. what am i g'nna do with you ?" he concedes to himself quietly, but he grabs at your waist and pulls at it, signalling for you to shuffle up towards him. you do, until your face to face with him and he sighs again, eyes softened.

"since it's my birthday, i can do what i want right ?"

"mostly, yeah. no burning anyone though." you poke his nose and giggle when he scoffs a sharp click of his teeth in annoyance.

"whatever, how 'bout you just let me sleep in then ?" he snarks.

"i can do that." you grin back at him and he tries to lean in just enough to bite your nose, but he doesn't lean far enough and simply throws his head back in defeat. you laugh and since it's his birthday, you'll let him have it, so you lean in a bit closer to his face. he takes a modest chomp at your nose and you roll your eyes with a huff at the tired smirk on his face like he'd won some type of prize. and despite his sleepy eyes he still manages to lean in again to rub his nose against yours in lazy greeting. you close your eyes and sigh at his ministrations.

but of course, your katsuki cannot live with himself if his not being a little shit and he yawns in your face. you smack a hand over his mouth and groan in disgust. he just laughs into your hand, then he bites at your palm.

"can you be not-insufferable for at least five minutes after you wake up ?" you whine, childishly wiping your hand onto his tank top.

"no can do baby, s'my birthday." the shit eating grin on his face almost makes you regret introducing him to the concept of human birthdays as a whole. almost though, because unfortunately this absolute demon man has your heart fitted nicely into the palm of his hand.

"you are truly something else." you grumble. katsuki snickers at your annoyance. "mhmm. hurry up an' gimme a kiss." he says but doesn't even give you a chance to respond when he grabs the back of your head and brings you to his lips, you don't put up much resistance either. he makes a forced face when you pull away.

"your breath smells like shit."

"you should absolutely not be talking."

the day has been going extremely well. you'd done what katsuki wanted today. which consisted of sleeping in. having his favorite for breakfast and some birthday pancakes, courtesy of you, which he gobbled up in the blink of an eye. watching his favorite movie to make fun of at the moment and taking a nap again. before going out for a birthday lunch and a (extremely tiring) hike all before dinner. the dinner and hike where set up by you. you could tell he enjoyed the activities even if he hadn't knocked his forehead to yours with a kiss to your forehead and a big blush on his face as thanks, but it was a very nice plus.

katsuki's lazing around on the couch asking you which show you want to watch while you're busying yourself with his secret chocolate fudge birthday cake. you plan to give it to him later tonight. you hide it behind a big tupperware box after checking to see if it was still intact. "just pick whatever !" you call loud enough for him to hear. carefully placing the bakery box back behind all of the other foods.

"i can't pick whatever, 'ts why i'm asking you !" you roll your eyes at his sass, a smile pulls at your face at the idea of a little revenge.

"it's your birthday, so figure something out !" you sing, he doesn't respond but growls loud enough for you to faintly hear it, and soon enough you hear a bunch of netflix prequels playing in quick succesion. you can't help but giggle.

then you hear the doorbell ring. and then again, longer and louder. it's way louder than you ever thought was possible and you wondered if it was maybe time to change some type of batteries or maybe have your boyfriend fix it for you.

"ugh, i'll get it !" you groan. you mutter a bitter 'yeah, yeah, i'm coming.' at the door. sachi definitely doesn't ring your doorbell like..that. and the only friend of katsuki's who'd probably ring the doorbell like this is kaminari, since for some reason he seems to be fixated on loud noises and specifically the noises your doorbell makes.

then you swing your door open and your met with katsuki. except a little bit taller and also a woman.

you have to blink to realise that that's not your katsuki at the door because he's already inside scrolling through shows and movies. rather, it's someone who looks extremely similar to him. the same blonde hair and same piercing red eyes and that same hardened stare. and of course, those fiery red horns and matching tail, altough hers was a little slimmer. she's extremely gorgeous.

you blink and gasp, words won't come out and the woman simply stares like she's analyzing you. you think you see the tiniest of smiles break into her face but you turn your head too quickly to tell.

"katsukiiiii !" you call "there's a very gorgeous dragon lady here who looks exactly like you ! "

in an instant it's like he teleported over to you, already in a fighting stance until he realizes who's at the door and you presume she's here for, and knows, him. his shoulders slum forward and an almost guilty expression crosses his face when he sees your widely blown eyes.

"do you know her???" you whisper yell. you forget the woman is right in front of you and can most definetly hear you, not to mention her superior hearing. katsuki exhales.

"babe.." katsuki winces apologetically "that's..my mom."

huh????

katsuki's mom hasn't stopped touching you since she got here 10 minutes ago.

from what you'd heard from your boyfriend his mother was a ruthless, aggressive stubborn and strict 'old bat' (you quickly scolded him about the way he adressed his mother) but from what you're experiencing now, this was anything but the case, though katsuki had the habit of being quite the unreliable narrator.

because ever since you'd brought her into your apartment, she has not gotten her hands off of you. to the great displeasure of your boyfriend, who's sitting on the kitchen chair glaring at the tv with his head resting against his palm and tapping his foot. when you'd went to bow to greet her she quickly scooped you up in her arms, shaking you around in her arms like a ragdoll with such force katsuki growled at her to let you go. you can't tell if being so affectionate is truly a dragon thing or if it runs in the family.

"oh aren't you just such a sweetheart !" she squeals, grabbing onto your shoulder to bring you closer to her and you squeak at the force. her slit eyes scanning over every corner of your face and she hums.

"mhmm, very good.." she pinches your cheeks between her pointer and thumb and tilts your face around, continuing to exam you. "oh, and so soft an' squishy too, like a little dumpling !" she coo's, smiling softly at you. she's a little rough, but she means well, you think. at least that's what you try to think when she suddenly grabs at your jaw to pry your mouth open. you let out a surprised gutteral noise but mitsuki doesn't seem the least bit fazed, she keeps humming to herself like a doctor. it's stupid but you're a little embarrassed because you'd recently eaten and you don't think your breath smells the best, she doesn't seem to mind that either.

"hmm..teeth aren't very sharp though.." she pouts, before a smile shines back onto her face as if to reassure you "that's okay though, sweetheart ! we can probably do something about that-"

suddenly a hand grabs at the woman's wrist and pulls her away from you and it's none other than katsuki. you smack a few times to readjust the slight pain in your jaw and you look up to see the two shifters in a heated stare down. it kinda looks ike a mirror trick because they're just so similar, it almost makes your head spin.

"quit touchin' on her old hag, at the rate you're going you'll break her fuckin' jaw." katsuki spits, dropping his mom's wrists with furrowed brows. his expression mirrors her own as she stands up to glare down at him fiercely. her eyes locking on yours make you flinch but a second passes and her face morphs, she's smiling. mitsuki grabs the top of her son's head and playfully (you hope..) smacks it a couple times, he snarls and growls but she ignores him in favor of giggling at you.

"he can be quite the brat sometimes, am i right ?!" her forced chuckles quickly turn into her pinching her son's cheeks with gritted teeth and a tick mark on her forehead. katsuki's complaint and what looks like to be an almost scorching grip on her wrist is ignored, she ignores him like he's a mere insect on her shoulder and keeps talking to you like he isn't there. "i hope he doesn't cause you too much trouble ? i know my son is a lot to handle." she asks, her sweet tone of voice returns and you sit up straighter. despite the..interesting first impression you still want your boyfriend's mother to like you.

"oh no, not at all ! katsuki's a sweetie." you smile and she coo's at you like a baby. she laughs like you'd just told her a joke and she pinches at her son's face to get his attention "heh. a real sweetie, eh ?" she mocks, raising a brow. katsuki finally manages to rip her hand off his face and he all but growls at her.

"shut up ! what're you even here for ?!" katsuki's complaint is grumbled as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. the only thing differentiating the two of them is that katsuki is currently hiding his tail, it gets in the way around your small apartment and he says it's annoying to sit with it on the couch and he hates tearing holes in his pants, so he mostly only has his horns out. horns identical to his mothers that point back when she raises her nose up at him with a dissapointed huff.

"oh please, it feels like everyone's been able to see your human den besides me !" she exclaims, resting her hands on her waist. "is it so bad that i wanted to come visit my son, and on his birthday of all days !" she huffs. katsuki scrunches his nose up in response. mitsuki continues, she fixes her warm gaze onto you and you blink up at her in surprise. she immediatly chippers up and swoops down to pick you up and hug you.

"and when was it you where planning on introducing me to your mate, and one who's such a cutie at that !" she rubs her cheeks against yours and you're glad she isn't lifting you off the ground but the way she's leaning over you makes your back hurt and has you gripping her arms. a bad decision since she thinks you're returning her affection and squeezes you harder. she glares at her son "as your mother-"

"urrghh-" he groans

"-and the one who practically set you up, i think you should've invited me sooner." she chides, patting at your head. katsuki's almost pout and slouched back reminds you of a little kid getting scolded. you supress a snort when you make eye contact and his frown deepens when you throw him a questioning lifted brow, he just shrugs and looks away again.

"pops hasn't been here yet either." he shrugs off, adjusting to cross his arms.

"you know how nervous your father gets katsuki." mitsuki scoffs, rolling her eyes at her son's comment. said son mirrors her expression, they seriously make your head spin.

"whatever. you came, you saw-" katsuki starts, heading over to rip you away from his mom's grip with minor resistance. "ya put yer paws all over my mate," he growls bitterly, giving you a firm squeeze before letting you go but never too far away from you. “so you can go now.” he says through gritted teeth and squinting eyes.

mitsuki scoffs, dramatically placing her hand onto her chest and even leans back a bit "how rude !" her wide eyes fix themselves to you and you instinctively nod, earning you a growl from the man next to you.

"while it is true i came here to see where you're living, i did come all the way here to wish my son, a happy birthday." she accentuates, putting extra intonation on specific words and every time she does katsuki shrinks into himself a bit. though after a moment he raises a brow

"there's no way you came all the way here just to wish me happy birthday." he deadpanned "what do you want ?" suddenly a smirk crosses the older woman's face and you see how on guard katsuki gets. you start getting a little nervous when stances start getting more..combative.

"do you think that ill of me, katsuki ? i'm hurt you'd thinkso little of me.. i even brought a gift too.." you start to realise how her horns starts to glow as she also backs up a bit, seeming ready to pounce. you hear katsuki scoff out a laugh and your head whips around to stare at the two. two big wings suddenly sprawl from the woman's back, your dragon man grins, doing the same and you realize-

where they planning to fight in your apartment ????

"woah, woah, woah, woah, WOAH." you get in between the both, frantically waving your arms around (you realize this is the second time you've stood in between two dragons now). immediately there's a shift. the tension remains, both blondes staying on guard but gazes fixed onto you.

"what're you guys planning to do ?!" you lock eyes with the older bakugou and shrink back "..if i may ask.." you squeak out. she giggles at your cuteness.

"oh, don't worry darling, this is totally normal ! i know you humans aren't familiar with birthday battles, but they're harmless, really !" she chirps.

"BIRTHDAY BATTLES???" you shriek, whipping your head around to see katsuki unfazed. he simply shrugs at you and your eye twitches at his nonchalance.

"it's fine. m'stronger than her anyways." he waves off, his mother barks out a laugh.

"hah ! is that the hill you wanna die on ?!" she challenges, your boyfriend has the nerve to try to respond until you cut him off before he can.

"katsuki. you are not battling in the house." you squeak, voice pitched high in distress. katsuki, the dragon man who was just about to fight his mother, apparently to the death, has the gall to pout at you.

"it'll be fine, i'll just fix it later." he grumbles.

"and where am i supposed to be while you guys fight to the death ?!" you say, your arms are still spread out like this could somehow stop the two beasts from duking it out should they decide to right now. his shoulders drop, his horns dimming. he pouts harder and you can already see what's coming.

"katsuki-"

"'ts my birthday."

"katsuki. don't-"

"you said i could do what i want."

"but i didn't think you'd do this ??" you try helplessly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes as a last ditch effort. incredibly stubborn as he is,katsuki doesn't budge. you pause to think.

it is his birthday.

and you did want to make his birthday as enjoyable as possible..and if it meant fighting with his mom would accomplish that, then so be it.

you sigh, loudly, and you want to hate the pleased little smirk on your rabid boyfriend's face so bad. but unfortunately, you can't. and that makes you sigh again.

"fine," you look up at him seriously "but not here. i'm sure you can find a field so you can..duke it out. don't get too injured." your boyfriend scoffs boastfully at your words, he pulls you in and wraps a strong arm around your waist, pulling you in. he seems to forget his mom's presence, who's now staring at you both with a smirk. you grip at his shoulders in embarrassment.

"nah, i told you i'm stronger." he says simply, kissing your cheek hard and sloppily "gonna come cheer me on ?" he offers, teasing smile on display.

"i fear i'd die of a heart attack, so i'm gonna sit this one out." you sweatdrop, patting his chest. he grunts in dissaproval but quickly shrugs it off, pressing a kiss to your head before fixing his fiery gaze onto his mother. "well, you gonna chicken out ?" he jeers.

"don't you underestimate your mother." she flashes you a loving grin, walking over to you and pressing her forehead to yours quickly and you feel your whole body warm up happily "it was wonderful meeting you dear. i hope you'll let me visit again soon."

"hell no."

"of course !" you and katsuki respond in unison. as expected mitsuki ignores her son's words and grins at you again. before she leaves she wraps you up in one of her tight hugs, thanks you for taking care of her son, then follows katsuki to the front door. the blond quickly throwing out a "i'll be back later !" loud enough for you to hear and you wave them off before you hear the door click shut. when they leave you heave a long sigh.

that was definitely one way to meet his mother, but you're at least happy it went well.

you truly hope this birthday battle really as harmless as mitsuki claimed it was, though..

after a few hours katsuki returns. not heavily injured, but extremely dirty and with tears in his clothes.

"katsuki !" you whine, walking over and inspecting his upper body and sleepy albeit satisfied face. you grab his face between your palms to get him to look at you. he closes his eyes, "i told you not to get injured !"

he simply huffs and nuzzles into your palm "m'not injured though. can see it can't you ?" he points towards his very exposed chest and his eyes shine mischievously at your flustered splutters. before you can get another complaint in he shoves his head into your shoulder and you squeal, pushing him away.

"no-katsuki, no." he growls lowly at your denial "you're dirty. go shower."

"s'my birthday-"

"you're stinky, birthday or not. you can't keep using that as an excuse you know." you snort, trying your best to stay firm, you quickly check the clock "your birthday's almost over by now." you push at his shoulders so he wouldn't get the opportunity to get comfy and try to coax you into cuddling with him.

he grumbles something unintelligible before lifting his head up to simply stare at you. "did you win ?" you ask and he huffs but he smirks

"nah, almost got her though."

"well, there's always next year."

he squints, scrunching his nose up at your words "she's not coming here next year." you squeeze his scrunched up nose and he pretends to bite at you. "stop being so mean to your mom."

"m'gonna go shower." he ignores you and you roll your eyes as you watch his tail trail behind him to your bedroom to get a change of clothes before making his way to the bathroom.

as soon as the door clicks shut you jump into motion. you bound over to the kitchen, reaching the fridge you slowly pull the chocolate fudge cake out. placing the candles on it carefully, sticking out your tongue for utmost focus. you're happy with the positioning, leaning back to admire your work. afterwards you quickly search for a lighter, and place it next to the cake, you smile when you hear the faucet turn off, just in time.

when katsuki comes out, hair still wet and puffy wearing a simple grey lounge sweater and sweatpants, you're standing in front of him. he raises a brow at your bright smile, he tilts his head back questioningly "what's up ?" he asks, suspecting some type of trick. but he was in for a surprise.

you lean forwards and grab both his hands to drag him over to the couch. "come on." you urge, pulling him along but keeping your gaze fixed on him. a huff of laughter through his nose, he barely supresses a curious smile at your giggles "what ?" he asks again when your closer to the couch.

"just siddown." you push him down rather harshly and he grunts in surprise. "i'll be right back !" before he can say anything you sprint to the kitchen and bring back his cake. "tadaaa !" you exclaim. his eyes widen.

"what's the cake for ?" he asks gruffly and you shake your head. "s'for you, silly !" you giggle. his confused stare has you explain further "for your birthday, it's what we do here." his eyes fly from you, to the cake, then back to you and you can't help but giggle.

"it's dark chocolate since i know you don't like overly sweet stuff, i figured this is sort of a rite of passage for human birthdays" you laugh, but you're interrupted when your body releases a loud "oof !" when your boyfriend's large body topples over yours. you wrap your arms around his neck almost instinctively with a loud squeak.

he doesn't say anything even as you call out to him, but you think you know what he's trying to say when he nuzzles against your neck and squeezes you tight, so tight you grunt a bit and pat at his back and he plops a wet kiss on your shoulder as apology. you smile, patting his back again, because you know what he's trying to say.

"alright big guy." you start rubbing up and down his back and giggling at his annoyed grumbles. "we still have to eat the cake right ?" you nudge your shoulder a bit to encourage him and he gets off of you after a second. he looks away from you with pink cheeks and scratching at his nape. l-let's eat it then." he mumbles. you can't help the smile that grows on your face, when you remember.

"i'll go get a knife-"

"wait, wait, wait !" you lift your arms into his face and his eyes widen "i'll go get it !" you're already getting up before he can protest fully.

"it's fine, i can do it-"

"no, no ! you. sit." you wave your finger at him and he crosses his arms "m'not a dog." he mutters, but he does as you say, begrudingly.

"c'mooon, it's your birthday right ?" you tease, laughing to yourself as you head over to the kitchen again hearing him groan a 'oh, fuck off'.

you come back with a knife, two little plates, two spoons and lighter. you place them on the little table in front of you and katsuki scans your movements carefully as you grab the lighter first. you don't think he knows what they are and thinking on it now, you probably should've at least shown him how they work. because his eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when you flick it on and the small flame comes out.

"the hell are you doin' ?!!" he shouts, quickly reaching over to grab your lighter away. you manage to carefully swerve out of his way, eyes also wide as saucers.

"what are you doing ??!" you excaim back

"why are you trynna set shit on fire ??!"

"i'm not--i'm just trying to light the candles-it's normal !!" you heave. you both stare at each other chest rapidly expanding.

"oh." is all he says. you let out a loud sigh.

"yeah." you breathe. his shoulder slump and he places his elbows onto his knees, opening his hand up signalling you to give the device to him so he could analyze it.

"you flick it on like this, see ?" you teach, showcasing it to him and handing it over so he can test it out himself. he spins it around in his hands, then flicks it on. his eyes scan the flame before he squints at it.

"f'you wanted a flame, you could've just asked me to do it instead of using this wimpy shit." your mouth almost drops in shock and you chuckle, of course he'd get jealous of the lighter. you reach for the lighter and he gives it back, not before fixing it with a scowl. you calmly now, light the candles slowly while he stares.

"i just need a little light, not a flame thrower." you jest.

"m'better than that too."

"oh, i'm sure of it." you decide to humor him, it was his birthday after all, though you are pretty positive he would be better than a flame thrower and a mini lighter.

you beckon him over and he leans towards you and the cake "now you need to blow the candles out, and make a wish !" his eyebrows furrows.

"it's just tradition." you explain, batting your lashes up at him. he drops his head with a sigh and smirks to himself before leaning in, closing his eyes for a few seconds, then he leans back as his chest expands, your eyes widen again.

"katsuki, just blow on it !"

he stops, annoyed " that's what i was gonna do, if you'd let me get it out."

"i said blow, not extinguish it." you quip. he growls then leans in, closing his eyes again to reiterate his wish (despite making fun of it at first he seemed to be taking his wish pretty serious) then softly blows the candles out, huffing out a laugh when you cheer and clap for him.

"man, i wish i'd bought party poppers.." you whine "guess that's for next year." you shrug off. unbeknownst to you, katsuki feels stupid, but he also feels his heart warm at how casual you uttered those words. next year for his next birthday here with you. he nods quietly.

you cut up a slice and place it on one of the plates, you grab a spoon and scoop up a small bite. then, you jokingly raise it up to your boyfriend who's cheeks burn bright red when you go "alright, say ahh !"

he squints at you "..seriously ?" you chortle.

"it's your birth-daaay.." you sing, inching the spoon closer to his face. he rolls his eyes, then grumbles to himself. he leans in, sharp teeth peeking as he opens his mouth with a half hearted "aah.." and taking a bite. you giggle seeing him look up at the ceiling to taste the sweet treat better, his eyes postively light up and he groans in delight when the taste finally hits. you sit on the couch, and try some of the cake yourself. it's heavenly and you hum in content "s'it good ?" you snicker with your mouth full.

"s'fuckin' good." he confirms, you snort. he let's his head rolls towards you, eyes still closed "gimme more." he demands, you roll your eyes but it's his birthday so you'll comply, feeding him another spoonful of cake.

you sit around like this the whole evening, eating cake and making jokes. and of course, finishing the day by watching a movie. you pull your hands from your boyfriends head in your lap to grab your phone, he grumbles but you ignore it in favor of checking the time. it's well over midnight now and katsuki's birthday is unfortunately over. you're happy, but it has you smiling sadly.

"what's up ?" bakugou raises a brow. his hand grabs yours.

"you're officially no longer the birthday boy.." you whisper, leaning down to place a kiss against his nose. he scrunches it and puckers his lips up, grouchy face and furrowed brows on display to get you to kiss his lips instead. you roll your eyes and even if it isn't his birthday anymore, you comply.

"was good while it lasted." he shrugs off, his eyes dart across the room "i--today was..fun." he admits bashfully, you smile sweetly. he looks up at you and closes his eyes with a huff, pulling your hand into his hair.

"'cept when that old bat barged in here."

"quit talking about your mother that way." you tug at his strands and he bites at you.

a beat passes and bakugou's pulling at your shirt roughly, and you squeak when he presses his lips to yours, pillowy lips biting at your bottom one and making you gasp which gives him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, grabbing the back of your head to kiss you deeper.

when you pull away, heaving and lips shining with spit and his hair tousled from your earlier ministrations he smiles softly. it's faint but his eyes shine as hard as his cheeks when he speaks "thanks..for today an' all." he plays with your fingers to hide his nervousness to meet your soft eyes "dunno why you care s'much about this birthday stuff," you try to speak but he bites at your finger to silence "but..m'glad you do, or whatever. had a good day. better be ready to spend it with me again next year." he challenges, smirking up at you.

you smile back brightly, because you'll be ready to spend it with him next year and the year after and the years after that. you'd make sure to be with katsuki for every human birthday to come.

(little did you know, it was katsuki's wish too.)

this took forever but this part is done !! i had a lot of fun writing this one and even tho im a lot of days late (lol) heres another katsuki birthday piece ! i hope yall enjoy reading !! <3 if yall wanna keep being tagged jus lemme know but im only doing this bc some ppl wanted to be tagged for the first part !

*if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( @doofusarena @queenpiranhadon @rosemarygalaxy @slashersl0t @andysdrafts @berryvioo @erenstitanweave @chuugarettes @stardyedkatsuki @atinytiredpanromantic @zaiban2989 @annepamgkrth @mxpl3s-castle @jastoo46 @nemisimp @niktwazny303 @cecee77 @m-inluv

[bratscave]

this blog got me feeling some typa way babesssss

dreaming about a young professor reader who thinks logan is constantly condescending to her when he asks about her lesson plans or curriculum… but he just doesn’t know how to start a conversation with her.

so when she has a bad day and snaps at him about his constant ‘patronizing’ he’s obviously very amused. because he’s honestly been looking for an excuse to chat with the hot, way too young for him piece of ass in a pencil skirt.

bonus points if he bends her over her desk and fucks her like a whore on it. and bonus bonus points if she thinks about it when she comes to her classroom the next day for class to find him leaning on it.

gotta feed the monsters in us i guess

ugh i need to write some logan smut to post already

I LOVE YOUR BLOG ITS SO- *animal noises*

- visionsofcarnality 🤭🫶

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — a lil' help !

The past few days have been hell, actual fucking hell. You had never imagined that the kids would be so... unnerving. It turned out that they cared a lot less about genetic mutation biology then you would've thought. All you needed was a cigarette and a calm, quiet office for god's sake — no interruptions, especially not logan. “Got your curriculum figured out for next week?” his voice, low and rough, cut through the silence as he leaned against your doorway. You stiffened, feeling that familiar sting of irritation. It was the fifth time this month he’d asked you something like that, and every time, it grated on your nerves. You knew you were younger than most of the faculty, barely in your mid-twenties, but did he have to rub it in with his constant questioning? As if you didn’t know what you were doing. “Yes, Logan,” you replied, barely masking the edge in your voice. “I have it under control.” You didn't like how your words had absolutly no affect on him, he didn't move, didn't budge, didn't back down. It was like he was waiting or searching for something, “You sure about that? You look like you could use some help.” “I don’t need your help, Logan. I don’t need you constantly questioning me about my lesson plans, my missions or my fucking curriculum. I’ve been doing this for years, and I don’t need some — some condescending jackass acting like I’m not capable.” His mouth parted in surprise yet his lips twitched in amusement, "Really? Is that what you think I’ve been doin’? Condescending to you?” You shake your head, looking through the papers for tommorow, you couldn't deal with this today, "Yes, that's what I think." Logan pushed himself of the door frame, his fingers instantly moving to your shoulders like he was trying to reassure you, "You're young. You're new and you're trying your best, but you're feeling a bit...overwhelmed." You took another puff, finally looking up to his face. "I appreciate," the tone you use sounds almost sarcastic, "your concern but I'm getting by just fine." Yet you feel his finger absentmindedly trace over the skin of your neck as you lean back ever so slightly, almost on auto pilot. “Logan,” you said, trying to inject some authority into your voice whilst putting out the cig in a close ash tray but it came out breathier than you intended- His proximity was doing things to you, things you didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone act on. But Logan, perceptive as always, didn’t miss a beat. He didn't decide to comment on the little faltter in your voice, just brushes one of your hair strands behind your ear, the action feels intimate, a bit to much so. His hands work on gently pushing you down onto the desk, your face pressed against the cold surface, his rough fingers work on riding up your skirt. If you're not mistaken you can hear the fabric of your panties ripping as you scoff, "Y'know you could've just taken them off." It sounds more like a statement then a question, not that you'd really be intrested in one when all you could think bout was his dick. "That's no fun," you could faintly make out, the dull sound of his belt hitting the floor also, "You don't even understand how much i've been imagining you, like this — you, and your damn skirts." Your hands clench into fists on the desk, your knuckles turning white as you try to keep some semblance of control as he thrusts into you. He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he pounds into you, his breath hot against your ear. “This what you needed, darlin’?” he growls, his voice rough and strained with his own pleasure. “Needed someone to fuck that stress right outta you?” He’s fucking you like an animal, hard and fast, and it’s exactly what you needed. The desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, with this pace you could perfectly forget about all those kids that make you lose more and more brain on the daily. That's exactly what you think about when you see logan leaning against your desk the next day, all innoccently yet gazing u you like he was about to eat you alive, in front of countless of children.

You could certaintly use his help every now and then — not on the curriculum of course.

[love-marimo]

Hiii Lili <3 could I request one piece character (idk for who you write, so u can choose!) reaction to a reader who is very normal looking girl (doesn't stand out from the crowd to say soo) but in battle/confrontational situation becomes a complete, very violent and dangerous, destruction machine?

The circumstances or if she is friend or foe, you can choose, whatever let's you more inspired. ✨ If you don't like or feel very inspired by the prompt it's okay, I just really liked your writing style ♥️

There is More Than What Meets the Eye (Monster Trio x Fem!Reader)

ー hello!! thanks for the ask. this is actually such a fun idea. i went a little overboard with this one lololololol. and i decided to go with the monster trio ♡ hope u like it :3 if you/anyone wants to read sth about other characters,pls lmk! i currently write for jjk, genshin and of course, one piece ★

ー as always, requests and commissions are open! ♡ (im bored pls give me something to do :'3)

cw: mentions of weapons, violence, and battles

Luffy

he's not someone who likes to expect things from anything, let alone anyone.

but he gets really amused easily.

(luffy is a big yolo person, and it shows)

he is naturally protective of his crew though, and that includes you.

but at the same time, he trusts that everyone is capable of fighting and surviving on their own, so he doesn't think much of your capabilities. he just knows that you're strong.

you had just recently joined the crew and you're figuring out how you can help.

you help with franky and usopp with the ship's repairs.

then you tend to the plants with robin.

then you help sanji cook lots of meals (because luffy eats like a monster)

and then you asked nami if you can clean the study room for her so she can make maps comfortably.

and after all that, you joined zoro to workout with him.

for a normal person, doing all these things would exhaust one at the end of the day, but in your case, you seem to never run out of energy.

the crew is thankful for your help, but what they didn't realize is that you never run out of stamina to just do things.

until luffy points out how restless you are.

"hey, don't you ever get tired?"

you were about to answer him when you noticed the presence of a few marine ships at your tail.

the crew panicked and prepared to change course.

when they fired cannonballs, you immediately caught each and every one of them and threw them back at the ships, causing a simultaneous explosion.

there was one cannonball that you almost missed, so you were quick to grab it.

imagine luffy's surprise when you crushed it with your bare hand before it exploded.

everyone pretty much had their jaws on the floor.

luffy practically had sparkling eyes asking you how you did it.

"wow, i never knew you could do that!"

"what other things can you break with one hand?"

"here, can you break this huge weight?"

you were confused, but you obliged, breaking the weight in half.

"so cool!!"

since then he would start attacking you out of nowhere, trying to catch you off guard.

well that never happened, so one day he'll mope about it.

"hey, seriously, what's your secret?" he asks, poking your cheek.

"there is no secret." you laugh. "i just like to train my body."

"well, that's boring." he complains.

after a while though, he smiles at you.

"i honestly thought you look weak. but you're strong, so keep it up!" he said, pointing his thumbs up.

you didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended, but you took it as a compliment.

it feels good to feel needed by your friends.

Sanji

sanji thinks you're the most vulnerable person in the crew.

he doesn't mean to be condescending or anything.

but you just seem so… bland.

and it's not that he thinks you're so weak to the point that you can't defend yourself. part of him just assumes that you're average when it comes to strength and the other wants to protect you because you're a girl and you're pretty.

one day though, you're docked at an island to stock up on supplies and you forgot to tell the crew that you're going shopping by yourself.

sanji panics. what if something bad will happen to you?

something did happen to you.

you almost got robbed.

and sanji saw you manhandle the robber in a flash, and the next thing he knew, you were pointing a dagger to the robber's eyes.

it was so close and he can feel you wanting to gouge them out.

sanji hid himself for a moment, observing how you fight against the enemies.

you were practically raging, beating them up even if though they're already helpless.

one would try to beg for your mercy but you're pissed off. so you punched them hard in the face, knocking them unconscious.

sanji quietly had a nosebleed.

you were just so?? hot??

i mean you already are beautiful in his eyes but something about you being this strong turns him on surprised the shit out of him.

after you're done, you turned towards sanji, going back to your normal self.

"sanji! i didn't notice you were there."

"oh, i love it when you're violent and sadistic y/n-swann!"

he'll practically throw himself at you, showering you with compliments and following you around like a dog.

"forgive me for saying this, but i didn't realize you were that strong." he'll say.

"well, now you know!" you smiled at him.

instantly had heart eyes

"you are my beloved strong woman! woof!"

ever since then, he'll be even more batshit crazy about you.

every time you display your strength in front of him and the crew, it will take every bit of his will power not to pass out.

Zoro

this man…

he doesn't look like it, but he's very good at reading people

he got it after years of travelling on his own as a pirate bounty hunter

he may not have a good sense of direction, but what he's good at is sensing the strength of his opponents.

given that he's in a fight with one.

it's something he honed over time, so that he can create his own strategies when in battle.

like luffy, he knows that you're strong, and you work well in a team or on your own.

what he doesn't know (or at least he isn't aware of) is the lengths your strength can reach.

he has a gut feeling that you never went all out in your time as a member of the strawhat crew. (he's right)

so his competitive ass decides to test you through a spar.

you get fired up by the idea, since you've been wanting to train with zoro for a while now.

"ready? i won't go easy."

what a cocky bastard tbh.

you're very focused on him.

you're literally the definition of "lock on" every time you fight.

after you took weapon of your choice, you began to spar.

since you're on the deck of the sunny, you were both careful not to use complicated techniques to avoid destroying the ship. but you both still gave your all, unwilling to show any blind spots to one another.

chopper admired both of you on the sidelines, and the clashing of your weapons were heard by everyone on the ship.

"hey, moss head! what do you think you're doing-" sanji tries to interrupt.

then you landed a blow to make zoro lose his grip on his swords.

you ended up on top of him, and you pointed the back of your weapon on his chest.

he expected this so he wasn't surprised.

he found it amusing even.

"knew you were hiding something." he chuckled, uncharacteristically admitting defeat.

"but i'm not! i guess i got a little ahead of myself. sorry." you say, looking away from him, a little flustered.

"what are you sorry for? your strength? you know that's a pretty useless thing to apologize for." he replied.

since that day, he respected you more, and you would train together.

heck, when you're on an island, you'll find spacious and uninhabited places where you can spar with him to go all out.

it almost always ends in a draw.

zoro would go easy on you on the ship because you both know that it's not ideal to fully use your powers.

so the times where you can both give your all, you both make the most of it.

he teaches you how to use swords, and if you already know how, he'll teach you some of his techniques.

much to your happiness.

"you're pretty good, honestly. you can easily catch your enemies off guard with how you look." he admits to you one time.

"that's kind of offensive. but i'll take it!" you laugh.

ー Lolita

[anzulvr]

can you do a karma x reader but Korosensei just follows them around or he embarrasses Karma 🎀

Karma x Reader, where Korosensei embarrasses you both. Sorry for late replies as always & THANKS ALOT FOR REQUESTING THIS!! TELL ME IF U SEE TYPOS!!

— Korosensei has a lot of spare time on his hands tentacles. He can complete tasks that would take a regular person hours in a matter of seconds.

Which is why he often shoves his nose in other people’s business. He needs some way to keep himself entertained!

Unfortunately for him no matter how much he tries to set his students up together, none of them seem to make a move on their own accord!

Korosensei is 90% of the reason you and Karma are together.

You were too nervous to be honest about your feelings, confessing was out of the question.

Karma, he considered asking you out a few times but being inexperienced with romance (or any sort of affection ranging from friendships to his family life) , he didn’t know how to go about springing his emotions on you.

He planned it out himself a few times; ‘What am I supposed to do after I confess? High-five? Maybe a hug, nah I’m not a hug person.’

Karmas love language is mentally draining the people he likes, which is why he’s not the type to prepare huge romantic gestures all on his own.

He prefers pissing you off until you want to punch him. (He thinks it’s funny when you miss.)

Or getting his ears pulled when he’s saying something stupid and you’re trying to shut him up.

Korosensei knows you two won’t get anywhere without a push, he’s very observant with his students, he decided he could give you two the encouragement you needed.

Honestly what better self appointed wing man is there? Korosensei can pretty much make anything happen with his abilities! He does everything behind you and Karmas backs. He gets the students and his colleagues involved at times.

Karasuma has spoken against it, might’ve said something along the lines of “Stop poking your head into your students private lives.” But what would he know? Romance has to be pursued! Everyone knows if you can’t follow your heart Korosensei will follow it for you.

He can make the most random, insignificant moments about you two.

“Korosensei, do you have an eraser you could let me have?”

“Unfortunately I’m all out [Name]. Karma has plenty erasers you should ask him!”

Karma looks confused, his only eraser got stolen by Terasaka around 20 minutes ago when he asked to borrow it and never gave it back.

“I don’t? Terasaka has mine.”

“Nufufufu… check again!”

Within a second after you asked, Korosensei flew around the class and replaced everything in Karmas backpack with erasers.

Karma opens his backpack and erasers are the only thing in his backpack, he chucks a few at his teacher before giving you one.

Korosensei finds a way to preform extravagant romantic gestures on Karmas behalf.

That wouldn’t be so bad if Korosensei wasn’t so extra.

With his powers, he struggles not to get carried away with all the cool stunts he can pull!

Cue to him finding a way to write your names together in the sky (Like a sky writer) WITHOUT the airplane. Because he could probably find a way to do it himself. He’s faster than a plane and has nicer writing anyway.

As a teacher he can’t afford to hire [your Favorite music artist] to serenade you two. (Mostly because he’s horrible at budgeting and partly because Karma steals from him once in a while.) Any normal person would give up and maybe rent a boombox.

Korosensei doesn’t give in that easily, which is why he dressed up as the lead singer.

(imagine like his Karasuma Costume sort of situation) He had the rest of E class involved in the production.

Mimura on air guitar😭.

There’d be food catering and everything. The catering is Isogai who’s perfect for the job as he has experience and Maehara who keeps eating from the plates. (He gets fired and replaced with Meg.)

You and Karma both are pretty used to it at this point so it’s turned into something you poke fun at together. Free food is free food.

The most ironic thing is, Korosensei had nothing to do with the day you both started dating.

It was during the island trip when the guys were talking about the girls they like, when asked Karma said that he’d have to go with Okuda because she’s good at chemistry and she’d be helpful with his pranks.

You overheard as you were walking past the room, it made your heart ache. The following days he’d gotten the impression you were mad at him, but couldn’t figure out what he did to upset you. You distanced yourself out of hurt, feeling like he’d been leading you on this entire time. Eventually he pried it out of you (he’s annoyingly persistent not to mention really good at convincing you to go along with whatever he wants.) In this conversation he admits, he wasn’t being serious with his answer towards the guys, that she makes a good friend but he doesn’t like Okuda in that way. He tells you he can make it up to you if you agree to go out with him. Once you agree he goes in for an high-five like he had planned earlier, but you go in for a hug instead. He reciprocates after the initial surprise wears off. Maybe he is a hug person.

[sonotkari]

Saturn

Hanni Pham x Fem Reader

[ Synopsis ]

Listening to Saturn by Sza has made you think about many things since your last (not-so) relationship, and Hanni is on your side, listening to you yapping your thoughts.

Fluff, Angst, and a tiny bit of cursing :)

[ Word Count ]

1.5k yes it's very very short :(

[ a/n ]

I've been listening to a lot of songs lately and the idea just popped out when I was listening to Sza! It's really cheesy like, really, might be too tacky but oh well :P My first time writing this kind of stuff so it's a mess but do please take it easy on me guys /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\ (i suck at writing honestly)

I hope someone out there likes it dis for u bae <3

You've spent your entire year, loving someone. As the "giving it all" type of persona when it comes to relationships even when it's as small as a crush, you really gave it your all. Praising them the chance you got to, making sure to spend lots of quality time together, presenting gifts for no particular reason just because you enjoyed seeing the smile that appeared on their face with the cute little dimple on their cheeks which was one of the many things you liked- no, loved about them.

But maybe it was a little too much or perhaps it was something else. You eventually got tired of pursuing them after a year. Feeling more and more drained as the days passed and feeling that both of your distances hadn't moved an inch, you were debating a lot with yourself. Mixed signals were everywhere but you just couldn't let them go that easily. Like you were stuck in quicksand, trying to get out of it but as you do, you just sink in deeper. Might as well let it sink in and disappear. 

That was all a year ago, and you were now outside by the beach. Sat by the white sand as you admired how beautiful the waves were even at nighttime. Saturn by Sza was playing on your headphones as you looked up at the dark sky, admiring the little stars you could barely see while the sound of waves was also in the background with the music. 

If Karma's really real

How am I still here? 

Just seems so unfair 

I could be wrong tho

If there's a point to being good

Then where's my reward?

The good die young and poor

I gave it all I could 

The lyrics hit you hard, earning a bit of a chest pain as you couldn't relate to it more than ever. All the fun memories you had together flooded your mind as you listened to the music. Going to dates where she mostly wanted to go, having late-night calls and talking about almost everything that was going on with your life to each other, all the stupid jokes and the bickering where your friends couldn't take it anymore and the two of you would just laugh it all off.

You had to lose it all. Sometimes you wonder if you've made the wrong decision to let go. Regret washes your entire mind and soul as your tears start flowing non-stop every midnight, reminding you of all of the beautiful memories you just had to trash out because of the choice you made. But as much as you felt all the joy and the happiness of the world when you were with her, it began to change into pain. Pain that you wouldn't have imagined stinging so much that you eventually had to make a choice to let go and leave. 

Taking a big deep breath, you felt someone's presence come and sit beside you. You smile softly at her as you take off your headphones, letting them hang on your neck for a while as you can hear small music leaking from them. 

"What are you doing here at this time?" 

"Just admiring the view while having some fresh air" 

"You sound like a romantic" 

Hanni snorted a bit as she looked at the view in front of her. The small cold breeze hits both of you smelling a hint of sea salt passing by as well.

"I thought you were crying again" 

"Stop reminding me, it's embarrassing" 

You laugh a bit at what Hanni had just said and remember the time when she decided to crash into your apartment with snacks in her hand but instead caught you crying in your room alone with crumpled tissues scattered everywhere. You were a total mess at that time and the image still creeps into your mind, sending a shiver and an uneasy wave of embarrassment down your spine every time you remember them. 

"I was thinking of her, though..." 

Thoughts linger on about her once again as you start to daze off from the beach view. 

What if I didn't let go of her? Would we still be talking, laughing at each other like we always do, or would I be in a crying mess again? 

We used to joke around, laughing non-stop at almost everything, now all I do is cry non-stop instead. I sometimes wonder, if I had enough courage in me and talked about my feelings about her, we might've done something about it together.

 I wonder if she thinks about me like I do. Has she ever cried about me? I feel bad if I ever made her cry. Not like I can do something about it now. 

I wish I could, but I think it'll just hurt me again. Because I'll be giving her my all again and I'll be stuck in a loop then. 

You snapped out when you finally noticed you were rambling your thoughts to Hanni without even noticing. 

"Sorry..." 

"Don't be"

Hanni shifted her gaze, locking them at yours as she smiled warmly. You would always feel reassured every time you see that smile of hers. Perfectly warm for a cold breezy night. You could see the stars clearly by now and the moon peaking from the thin clouds, the light shimmering as it reflects on the surface of the water, and a bit of music that's still playing from your headphones, going to the end of the chorus. 

Find something worth saving 

It's all for the taking 

I always say 

I'll be better on Saturn 

None of this matters 

Dreaming of Saturn 

You listen to the lyrics and think if it'd be actually nice on Saturn. Even if it wasn't as far as Saturn, just somewhere you could ease your mind without all the lingering thoughts that wrapped you around like a thorned bush, pricking your soul. 

"Saturn sounds nice" 

The girl stares at you with a hint of confusion in her eyes as you suddenly, out of the blue, talk about planets. 

"I'm so fucked up on this planet, might as well just go to Saturn you know?" 

You never know, being in Saturn might be better than you think. Far away from the problems you've left behind, no one chasing you down for it. I'll make Saturn a place where I could rest from heart, just carefree and mindless. No more pain or hurt. Just focusing on myself and the future ahead of me. I bet I could make the best planet in the universe if NASA would let me. Well, that would be valid if we could "land" on Saturn in the first place without burning and melting ourselves. 

You outed a chuckle as you yapped your thoughts of Saturn to Hanni and the girl couldn't help but laugh lightly at your sudden plans about making the "best planet in the universe" 

But deep down, you knew that even when you'd send yourself off to Saturn or even as far away as Neptune, you'd somehow think about the girl just like how you've been lingering your thoughts on her on a random night at the beach. You take a deep breath, stopping thinking about it for once when you hear her speak up in a quiet mumble. 

"I'll be your Saturn." 

It was your turn to look at the girl with confusion and surprise. Your eyes met once again as she showed that warm smile with a soft chuckle. 

"Sorry, that just sounded cheesy way more than I imagined"

Your thoughts wander again. 

Hanni had been with you from your first-ever crush to your first-ever relationship (even when it was complicated as hell) till your heartbreaking moments. She was the one who you'd open up to when it came to opinions and bits of advice, she's the one you'd tell firsthand about every exciting thing that happened to your life, the one you'd update even when it was 3 am early in the morning, and her shoulders were the ones you cried and leaned on when your heart was shattered to pieces.

Being with Hanni allowed you to be idiotic, to be yourself. No matter how bad the situations were or how stupid things could get when with her, you could just laugh it all off and be carefree. You'd forget all your worries and problems, and the time with her would fly so fast. You remember way back then, you'd repeatedly ask Hanni's mom if she could stay a bit longer. You feel all the comfort you need when you're with her. 

"You already are"  

Her facial expression turned into a surprised one as she heard your response. The music leaking from your headphones had finally come to an end, only the sound of waves in the background left as you gave back the warm smile she always wears to reassure you, letting you forget all the problems and weight on your shoulders. 

"You are my Saturn" 

After some time of staring at each other, the long comforting silence soon ended with soft giggles and laughs as you and Hanni looked back at the ocean view with the golden moon and diamond stars shining their way making everything a perfect picture. 

"You were right... that did sound cheesy than I imagined" 

no way I just fucking finished this wait what

[commanderyes]

The Commander Says Goodbye

I’m not going to lie, I’m extremely anxious as i’m writing this, out of what these news could mean to a lot of people, and my heart feels heavy enough it could drop down my ribcage any minute from now and squish all my other organs. But I’ve been dancing around this topic for a long time now, and I think i’ve finally reached a point where i can’t ignore it anymore, for my own sake.

I hereby announce Commander Yes has come to an end.

As I’ve mentioned plenty of times before, here and to many other people, when I began this comic all the way back in 2018 I was in a really bad, really low place in my life in every sense of the word, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision to cheer myself up, because Path of Fire had just released and my enjoyment of the game had reached fever pitch and I had been playing Guild Wars 2 alone since as far as launch, and none of my other friends had ever really gotten into it. I guess I just, dunno, cried out into the big maelstrom of the community, one voice amidst millions, because i wanted SOMEBODY to look at what i did and revel in the nerdery with me.

And somehow the snowball began to roll and people wanted more and more of what I could do, and I was being actively reached out to, and, well, some time after that I landed my first ever job, I discovered a lot of things about myself, and I found myself in communities that welcomed me with open arms, and many of the people in there have since become among the best friends I could’ve possibly encountered, kindred souls who i’ve shared joys and sorrows for many years and who I can’t imagine living without anymore.

And all the while I kept making the comics, and with every entry posted every week I’d keep having people stopping to comment on them, and whether they were dumb jokes or personal takes on the story, they’d all share how much what I do kept hitting them in the kokoro, and to this day whenever I play anywhere in the game I still get people who recognize me and thank me for doing what I do. It was wonderful, it IS wonderful, and seeing that response motivated me to keep going, because what did still mattered to people, out there.

But I did always say I planned to keep doing these comics until I ran out of energy for them, and I think i’ve finally reached that point.

Because ever since I actually landed that job I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived every other day, so much so that I only have time to work on the comic on saturdays and sundays, and it gets harder and harder to just sit and draw, and at that point it was just more work, and while I still enjoy and play Guild Wars 2 a lot, it no longer consumes my time and attention like I’ve used to and i’ve been having fun with more personal projects, and honestly the direction the story is taking these days does not sit right with me and it’s hard to find inspiration in that, and this might be borderline selfish but every year I find people care less and less about the comics and it really takes a hit to you motivation when hardly anybody responds after you’ve spent a whole weekend trying to squeeze a five-page comic out.

And, well, I have been doing these for six years straight, and I think that’s a good run. I’m tired, and ready to move on, at long last. Let it be someone else’s turn.

But that’s the beautiful thing about this community, isn’t it? Even if I’m hanging up the hat, there are a whole lot of fantastic artists out there, as we speak, still cranking out works of art, deserving of all the attention they can get. And think of all the artists yet to come! For every story that ends, another story is just about to begin!

The world keeps on spinning, one way or another.

I’ll be closing my patreon shortly after this, but the reddit archives and tumblr blog shall remain for people to browse whenever they feel like (or until they both go in flames, i guess, what social media isn’t about to these days)

I still don’t think I ever was that much of a big deal, but all the same, to everyone who’s ever supported me and helped me be the person I am right now, to everyone who’s been there from the beginning, to all the devs of this game that has captured us for nearly a decade now, to all my fellow players and artists out there

Thank you.

See you out there, fellow commanders. Still the stars find their way.

[ryker-writes]

Oh my, your works about Azul’s sibling literally *chef kiss*

I am curious and would love to request of Leech twin’s sibling but angst too? 👀

I could imagine they’re bit insensitive because the little siblings boring when both parents not looking to their little siblings, resulting them too used crying silently and good at hiding it until they go to NRC honestly. With or without Jade noticed, Floyd would drop his job to them and they can’t do anything except just do it, after the shift over they would cry of exhaustion. Jade would be secretly concerned how his little siblings overworked themselves, and decided to check them but stopped at their door dorm realizing how quiet they cried.

Also do you think the twins would try to show their love to the lil siblings? i mean the lil siblings would be weirded out and felt being taken advantage of—

Thank you darling! I would be happy to write angst for them too! Thank you so much for your request! <3

Request rules and Masterlists

Leech twins as siblings (Broken relationship)

you were always sort of the odd child of the Leech family

the family was very business centered and pretty serious

mama and papa Leech loved you of course, but you knew they were in charge of some sort of serious business

and you had two older brothers that went along with it well

they always seemed to understand more than you did

you just couldn't seem to get it

because of the family business, you and your brothers often got gifts from people trying to impress your parents

to you, it always seemed like Jade and Floyd got more than you

they would get more attention from guests, and therefore more attention from your parents

you just couldn't understand why

because you never went along with what the rest of the family did, you were considered the boring child

and it became very well known that the youngest Leech wasn't someone required to pay attention to in order to gain the families favor

both of your brothers seemed to notice that your parents didn't even pay as much attention to you

and they liked to poke fun at it

they often referred to you as their boring little sibling

the two of them enjoyed making fun of you and they reveled in all the attention they got instead

it was just so unfair

naturally, you were very upset by all of this

you couldn't help but cry alone in your room

usually this happened when the family had big events so you had to hide it well

crying quietly ended up happening about as often as the family events did

because you would constantly be reminded about how everyone found you boring and not worth their attention

the plain and boring Leech child that was often cast aside and forgotten

that's what you were

but then you went to Night Raven College with your older brothers

you thought that this would be a great change

at least here you didn't have to worry about guests or your parents

you ended up in Octavinelle with your brothers and therefore you worked for your housewarden, Azul

Azul expected much from you considering you were related to the twins

so he often gave you plenty of work

it wasn't too bad working with your brothers

but it sure was tiring, especially when they continued to call you their boring little sibling

and even more so when Floyd would just come up to you randomly to tell you he's gonna go do something else and you can handle his shift

this could range anywhere from once a week to almost every day because of his mood swings

It seemed like Jade either didn't care or didn't notice

today, you were almost done with your shift when Floyd came up to you

he just smiled and told you he was going to go take a nap instead and you could handle his shift

then he just walked off before you could respond

you had already worked for hours and were minutes away from being done

but thanks to Floyd you now had an entire other shift to do

and you did

by the end of Floyd's shift, you were exhausted

so when you got to your room you just collapsed on your bed and cried

you cried like you always do, quietly

you would have to go to bed soon and then wake up in a few hours to cover your next shift and go to classes

but on the other side of your door, there was Jade

he had been worried at how much you worked today

doing two shifts in a day wasn't easy for anyone

he just wanted to check in but then he heard your small sniffle and got concerned

lingering outside your door, he quietly listened

and then he realized that was the sound of you crying

no one could naturally be this quiet when crying

this was a skill you developed over years

that must've been what you were doing when you disappeared from the events as kids

and the fact that he and Floyd always picked on you probably didn't help

Jade felt pretty bad at the realization

he thought that his comfort wouldn't be wanted or needed right now

instead, he needed to have a chat with Floyd

the next day, you were pleasantly surprised to find that you didn't have to do your shift

Azul simply told you not to worry about it and that it was covered

it was strange...

but what was even more strange was the sudden attention you got from Jade and Floyd

the two of them were spending an awful lot of time around you today and insisting on doing whatever you wanted to do

there wasn't any teasing or insults either

it was very...suspicious

you knew of Azul's magic with making contract and how clever they were at luring people in

so you were a little concerned that they wanted you to sign a contract

deciding not to dance around it you asked

"Are you guys trying to get me to sign a contract or something?"

Floyd was very blunt with his response

"Eh? What would we even need from you? You already work for Azul"

Jade was more polite

"We simply wanted to spend some time with you is all."

he smiled, but it wasn't his menacing one

it was a more genuine smile

they genuinely wanted to spend more time with you

[writella]

Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You

Synopsis: A detailed record of all the special objects Daryl has found for you while hunting, riding, supply gathering, and living in the various places he has in the new world. These objects often lead to sweet moments of kindness, joy, and understanding between the two of you, deepening your connection. Although they are things others might not think much of— they were simply small gestures or trinkets after all— you believed these memories and mementos to be gifts of gold; they would shine in your mind forever onward.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, mutual pining, kisses, lots of love and ♡ sweetness ♡ (true self indulgence at its finest), but there are also descriptions of trauma, abuse, and self-hate. Though other than that, it’s nothing else except Daryl being an endearing friend and future loverboy to you. This travels across the plot and setting of season 6-8, but it might not be a perfect fit. Lastly, even though these can be read anthologically, I did write them in a storyline as if there was an order in which Daryl gives or does these things with the reader as their relationship grows, so some past trinkets might be mentioned in the next story, but it truly isn’t too big of a deal; this is one you can have fun with! ♡

Author’s Note: My dearest reader, this one took much longer than I intended, but I think it’s because I put so much of my silly heart-filled imagination into it— truly one of my favorites to write thus far. I’m just so happy to give it to you. Feel free to read these all at once, one at a time, or pick the ones that best fit who you are. with love, writella . ♡ ⋆ ☽

Trinkets moodboard & visualizer here!

Trinket No. 1: The Ribbon ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⟡.•

A Bow from a Bowman

Daryl was out on a hunt one morning when he found it. It’s like he was compelled to pick it up, he did it without even thinking. It was nothing, honestly: kind of silly really, and flimsy, slightly covered by grass blades— it was dirty and discarded. But there was something about it, something tender… it reminded him of you, even though in some ways still, he hardly knew you at all.

It had been over a month since Daryl came back home to Alexandria; just a month since you entered what was supposed to be your new home. But also a week or so long journey it had been to unexpectedly find you and bring you back.

He remembered it well: you were covered in dirt, tired and hungry, running for your life from the past group you were with. He was going to let you go and mind his business— you looked scared of him anyway when you crashed into him. But most importantly, he had just lost his crossbow, his bike, and maybe even a little bit of his dignity to Dwight who stole them. He didn’t feel like getting tricked again, especially since it takes a lot to trick him; he wasn’t letting that happen again. Especially not the day after. And most especially not for a seemingly young and innocent-looking girl like Dwight’s wife, Sherry or that kid they were with, Tina.

But then, he heard the yelling, the hollering, the men– they wanted you, and none of it was for the right reasons. Very wrong and scary reasons they were indeed, ones he would soon come to understand were things you’d never want to live out or discuss again. He understood that feeling, so he stayed. He hid behind a tree. He decided to help again. Who knows of your innocence, but what was definitely true was that you were a lost and lonely girl in the woods. He knew a thing or two about those unfortunately, those stories ended badly.

Sad enough, the hiding and helping— or attempting to— led him to become a prisoner with you and your ‘group.’ He barely got scraps of food, and every night was just another day of seeing your tears, your face in a permanent state of desolation and misery; staying ever silent even when you were yelled at— even when you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do. You looked scared and small.

It was only when you all reached a hospital, one you burned to the ground just to get away from them, that Daryl saw the fight in you. You didn’t even ask for his help and he tried to save you, but in the end, you saved him. A silent soldier, you were. He returned the favor with the least he could do: he took you home.

And now there you both were. You sat by Rick’s fireplace. No one was home yet, and you had just put Judith down for the night. Daryl found you there on the floor with a book. He quietly sat near you. All you two said was hello.

And this was normal, actually– the being around each other, showing up unannounced, sitting beside each other– talking or not– or you, trying to help him with whatever work he was up to. He tried to fight it at first, but it became a regular thing. It’s what helped Daryl get to know you, and you to him.

You were equally as fierce as the fire you created not long ago, but just as gentle. Just as desiring to smile and create friendships. He knew that now. And he— he was just as rock solid and straightforward as the crossbow he once carried, but just delicate. Just as easily hurt and as quick to hide, yet so deeply desiring of loyalty and acceptance. You know that now too.

It’s still so soon, but you admired him, so deeply. You wanted to learn from him. You thought he was strong, and you wanted to be strong. All that anguish and pain and he came out a fighter, a leader.

Little did you know that is exactly what he thought of you. He went from seeing you cry yourself to sleep every night to becoming the kind and generous friend you were to almost everyone you met. Always offering to care for Judith, or allowing Carl to come to you to talk, or learning about guns and shooting with Rosita. And of course finding a way to go on supply runs, or learn to hunt, or fight walkers with Daryl as much as you could. As always, he pretended not to care that much, but he did. He couldn’t help it. He values his independence, but it was nice that there was someone who wanted to be around him so much. And he admired you for his own reasons as well: You’re someone who fills others up with lightness when such dark things have happened. He felt like that every time you two we’re together. He wanted to learn from you too.

As he sat there, thinking, he wondered if maybe that’s why he thought of you when he saw it. Maybe it was the brightness and softness of it, despite finding it on the ground, despite it being dirty. He cleaned it up, and it still shined, that’s like you but… he was still unsure. Maybe it truly was nothing, maybe it was stupid.

He looked to his side, watching your figure for a moment as he decided what to do. You were on your stomach, laying on the small rug that sat in front of the fire. You were continuing the chapter you were on, paying little attention to him. He only said ‘hey,’ after all. And you did wave back, you asked him how his day was, but all he gave you was a typical response, ‘fine,’ he had said. You thought maybe this visit wasn’t about talking so you left it. And all of this was typical anyway, for Daryl to come by Rick’s, or for you two to sit in peaceful silence, but then you started to see him fidget in his spot in your periphery, like he couldn’t decide how he wanted to sit, hands adjusting his jeans, moving things in his pocket.

“Do you wanna go to the porch?” You thought maybe he was reaching for a smoke. “I can put on the baby monitor…” He just shook his head at the suggestion.

You decide to move to the spot next to him, leaning your back against the wall. “Did something happen today?” Your voice was soft as you tilt your head, trying to reach his eyes.

“No,” he shook his head again, he was facing forward. “It’s just…”

“What?” You asked calmly.

He found it hard to speak, “Just- just brought something.” He reached into his pocket one last time, his hand in a fist as it made its way closer between the two of you until he started to release his fingers from his palm slowly.

It was a ribbon. A pearly light pink one. Just scattered in his hand. “It’s stupid,” he grumbled quietly, trying to shove it back down his pocket, but you stop him.

“Wait,” your hands gently cupping the other side of his and then you pick it up, letting him go. You wrap the ribbon around your finger and you tie it into a bow, examining it in your palm now. “This is for me?” Soft disbelief enchanted your voice. You made sure not to sound too excited or too surprised. You didn’t want to scare him, especially since he replied with:

“It's nothin’.” He was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“It's so nice,” your voice continued in its understated tone despite your smile becoming uncontainable. You couldn’t help the way your lips were curling upward, it was even hurting your cheekbones to try to make your teeth shine through a little less— Daryl Dixon just gave you a gift. And it was a little pink thing at that. Perhaps miracles are real. “It's perfect,” you say, “I can wear it in my hair.”

“It's stupid.” He repeated, brushing you off, but you saw right through him. Daryl doesn’t do anything for no reason at all.

“It's not.” Your words are so kind as your interject, “You know, sometimes it's the smallest things that mean everything. They become our favorite things even.” Your lips pressed together, forming another smile as he meets your gaze, “Like your vest that needs to be patched up.”

“It's fine,” he almost sounded defensive. It made you laugh.

As messed up as it is, it truly was fine. It was his and he loved it; that made it so. And he didn’t only have the vest, he also had his cut-up button-downs, and those ties he laced on the bottom of his jeans— you knew those were probably because the pants available didn’t always fit all the time, but nonetheless— these were all things that made him and his clothing unique from the others. Even in the apocalypse, Daryl was one of the few that maintained a personal style. You couldn’t help but love it. He could, and often always was, the guy covered all in dirt and grim and blood but he still had something about his look that was simply just him.

You missed that. Having those personal touches, and now here Daryl was with this. The simplest thing, but he brought it for you. It was your special piece, your special something. It truly was perfect.

“C’mere,” Daryl gestured, taking the ribbon from your hand and moving your shoulders so your back faced him. He undid the bow and cuffed your hair, he actually almost yanked your head with the way he gathered the ponytail, honestly– he forgets his strength, but you said nothing. Only giggling slightly, but you were mostly quiet. You tried to keep it down, afraid he might stop if he thought you were making fun of him. You wanted to reel at the closeness for as long as you could. You couldn’t believe the fact that he was doing something so domestic— you almost couldn’t breathe. He tried to detangle some pieces with his fingers and then he tilted his head to the side to leave some shorter pieces out at the front. He didn’t know what he was doing and he probably was doing it badly, but he tried his best to be delicate. He’s never touched you like this before. Every time his fingers accidentally brushed against your ear or your neck he relearned just how soft you are. And every feeling of his skin almost made you shiver; like when someone whispers in your ear, it always feels so sensitive, traveling down until you feel it everywhere. His touches felt like that. You always end up feeling his everywhere. He’s entrancing, filling you with hearts and stars.

Finally, he ties the ribbon into a bow right at the top of the ponytail he created. He’s done. He lets go. They shapes and colors fade. Everything is cold again.

But to him, everything looked warm and vibrant. Looking at you was a sight so sweet and so gentle among all this dark wreckage of the world— it was precisely how he saw you: the way the ribbon now laced around your hair looked like an angelic embrace.

You turn to him, “Thank you, Daryl.” Your smile is so sincere, so lovely, there might as well be a halo and hearts invisibly drawn all around you.

A moment passes as you continue to look at each other and your heart jumps. He’s still looking directly at you. There are moments that he looks away and you can’t help it, the bashfulness creeps up on you two, but he’s giving you all his attention; it feels great. You decide to take the chance, you can't help yourself, you hug him, you have to. It has been so long since someone gave you something. So long since someone thought of you so specifically and intimately.

He’s caught off guard, his hands don’t wrap around you until a few seconds later, but when they do, they are sure, and tight, more sure of it than you surprisingly.

You breathe him in, giggling again, “I’m surprised you smell this good.”

“Fuck you.” It makes you laugh just a bit louder, it’s the nicest ‘fuck you,’ you’ve ever heard. Its tone has a hint of sincerity in tandem with humor in just the same way you delivered your line. He shakes his head, “You’re silly.”

He lets you go and you turn away, but it’s only just a little. He watches how the ribbon lays right where he put it again, seeing the side of your face light up with your rosy smile as you sway your head. You’re trying to not make it obvious that you want to feel the wag of the bow and your hair back there so you do it slowly, it just feels so cool and so pretty. You liked it so much. You didn’t even know what it looked like yet, but it already made you feel more like yourself. Like a part of you that had left before this world began— it fit well like a missing piece finally snapping into place. It was your unique touch and he found it for you. He did it for you. Just for you.

For me, you repeated it in your mind, he found it just for me.

Trinket No. 2: The Lesson ō͡≡o˞̶ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Turnpikes, Gunshots, and Dreams

You had asked and asked for weeks with no let up. It made you start getting creative with your pleas: “You know, Daryl, we really should be teaching each other our skills,” you had insisted, sarcasm lining your voice. No one else in the group knew how to ride yet they were doing just fine, but you were incessant, “You never know what kind of situation we’ll be in where we might need it… I could die,” your hands raise as your voice does, “and your bike could be my only escape but I wouldn’t even know how to ride it!”

He would always just stare at you blankly, ignoring you, especially when you got dramatic like this right before you two were leaving. “Get on or stay,” he would say, “go help Rosita or somethin’.”

You’d grit your teeth and get on regardless.

But then one day, one lucky, lucky day for you— it was your earnest approach, and your silly smile, and sun-filled eyes that got the best of him as they looked up to meet his darker ones. “Please,” you said, stretching out the word, it was just as cheesy as your smile. He looked back at you from his front seat as you continued, “I just want to feel capable and- free… I don’t know,” but you did, you meant it and felt it from deep inside you. “To know I have the option I wanted to… I… I didn’t really have those before.”

He was still for a moment and then he nodded, restarting the ignition. You guessed that was another no until you started to ride past the walkers that lined the outer gate. “An hour,” he said, his eyes forward as the trees became a blur to both of you, “then we gotta get work done.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly, you only used to cup his waist or hold his shoulders, but you felt fearless today, head leaning against his back and neck, arms hugging around his torso. He finally said yes.

As time went by, you had gotten comfortable with completing your drills. You learned the controls, how to shift gears, how to waddle and power walk with the bike, operate the clutch, throttle, and lift your feet up, riding on a straight path all by yourself. Turns were still hard though, and the fact that Daryl always insisted you think about the worst-case scenario wasn’t the greatest either. He’d look you dead in the eye, his voice clear and unrestrained from his usual grovels as he said, “If a herd is comin’, or people are shooting, or if there’s something tryin’ to crash into you, you need to think about how you’re going down. Decide on what won’t fuck you up completely, then do it. ” He always got way too close to your face without realizing it in those moments, his finger almost crashing into your nose as he vigorously pointed to get the idea across.

“If something goes down, I’m not arguing,” you say. “You'll be in front.” You meant it, your voice was quiet, you understood.

But really, you didn’t: “If something go down, either of us should be able to do it.” He paused to make sure you got it this time, “That's the point.”

As if you didn’t already sense it, this was the first time you absolutely understood that Daryl was serious when he decided to do anything. Full commitment. Start to finish. You said you wanted to learn, that you wanted to be capable, then that’s exactly what he was going to teach you. You would take it seriously too.

Soon enough, Daryl allowed you to ride out of the gates of Alexandria first instead of switching off after you got a few miles out. You were getting better. So much so that today would be a different day, he explained. Daryl wanted you to ride to the Hilltop. This would be the longest distance you’ve ever rode. A whole 23 miles. But before you guys got there he would steer you in the direction of a turnpike: he wanted to practice speed, and most crucially for you, right and left turning.

His weapons and guns were strapped to his lower body, some on his thigh holster, and a machine gun over his back, all just in case, and his hold on your waist was fixed as you rode. It made you feel like a child and such a little teenager all in one with how excited you would get. Not only were you becoming skilled at riding a whole fucking motorcycle, but you were the one he was holding onto this time and it was the longest amount of time he was holding you at that.

As you reached the turnpike, he guided you around the semi-circular road. Continuing on, you saw a few walkers in the distance. He told you to speed up, there was enough space on the road and there were only four of them, they were far away anyway.

You looked back at your surroundings, other than those four, the road was pretty clear other than some broken down, discarded cars. This accidentally became a lesson on tight turns and swerving too.

Some of your turns were abrupt as you tried to go around the cars, it made you nervous. You knew it was okay not to be perfect, but it was still a little stressful to make mistakes when a master was watching behind you.

“Relax,” he’d tell you, sometimes putting his hands over yours on the handles and helping you out. “You got it.”

You went on and as the walkers approached closer, an idea arose. It was probably irresponsible, but you joked anyway, “Daryl,” you whisper-shouted with fake suspense, getting his attention. “We’re on a mission. Got to take those guys out before they get to Rick!”

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. He leaned in closer as you leaned forward, gaining speed. One arm wrapped around your hips in totality, hand placed firmly there as the other reached for his gun, extending his arm out as you two got closer to the walkers. You two turned to face them as Daryl pulled the trigger: one shot each, straight in the head, “Got ‘em.”

You gasp, your laughter sounding so wild and fun and unrestrained in a way it hasn’t been heard by either of you before. “Is it bad if I say I hope we find another one?!”

“No, that was fun,” he agrees understatedly, trying not to fully give in. You couldn’t even see his face, yet he was trying to hide a smile.

And you were too. It was all too much honestly. You were balancing riding and having Daryl right behind you, holding onto you, trusting you to do something he’s never let anyone else do before; and you just proved you both could probably kill it in a high stakes situation. Well, maybe not, this was very, very low stakes, but still, it made you believe. You decided to ride the high, quite literally as you kept going, shouting back: “Imagine us in battle?”

Oh, wait— your grin fades slightly, you immediately regretted it after you said it. The point of this life was to try to find a way to live, not always fighting to survive. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

The silence makes you feel like an idiot until Daryl speaks up, both hands now on your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, “If we were in battle,” he almost whispers into your ear, “we’d be their worst fuckin’ nightmare.”

You feel your smile practically reaching your ears. “We’re a team,” you say, the humor coming back to your face now, the shine in your teeth reflecting the sun as it always does. “A dream team.”

A dream… Maybe. You definitely were at least, but that is a thought he doesn’t let come to the forefront. He let it go. But it was true… something about you felt unreal to him. The way you wanted to be around him this much, so interested in the things he does; he still didn’t get it, it almost felt unbelievable. He wondered when it was going to stop. When he would wake up. He didn’t want to wake up. The thought grows, he can’t avoid it now: you are a dream. One he didn’t even know he wanted.

Trinket No. 3: Lucky Charms ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Flying Away With You

You gasp excitedly, “The Eiffel Tower!” You hold the bottom up to the light as he still holds the top. “Nice,” you say with bright eyes, “I found the Statue of Liberty in the mom’s jewelry box and a few others that weren’t on her charm bracelet.” You showed him the mother’s sterling silver and he showed you the daughter’s that he found. “I guess they were traveling family… or wanted to be.” You feel a heaviness behind your eyes after you say it.

You loved collecting these charms, but sometimes there was a sadness to it. Like you were collecting other people's tokens, little pieces of their personalities and their stories, keeping it as your own. It almost felt invasive. But it was something that you and Daryl did together. You liked that. Another thing that made you feel close to him… Maybe this was like keeping their memory alive? You may not have known them or know what happened to them, but you were giving something that they loved new life. The charms did make you happy, after all. Especially because it was Daryl that got you into it. But it was also you who got Daryl into it too.

You both can recall the first day it all started: He found it incredulous that you cared more about a little piece of jewelry you saw in the dirt rather than the bigger thing that was right by it: the deer Daryl just shot, the one that you two had been tracking for what felt like hours.

His face twisted up to you as he collected his bolt from the body, “We just caught a deer, and you’re lookin’ at that?”

“We just caught a deer for the first time in months and this was right by them… it’s literally good luck!” You held the gold sun charm to the actual light source it was designed after, “Look at us… Lucky charm, dream team, remember?” Your smile was just so wide after you said it, he let his slight irritation go. It was easy actually, he was always taken aback by that smile. It still wasn’t that long ago when he thought you weren’t the type to do so, like him most of the time. He had only seen you sad, but now, I’m Alexandria, you just glowed. Eyes and an essence as bright as the sun, and that smile, all teeth and just as pearly as the moon… The charm was perfect for you and it needed its match. Maybe a star too. He would find it.

He still remembers where he found those. He came across a silver crescent moon necklace discarded on the floor of a girl’s bedroom. It was simplistic, like one or those expensive necklaces that shouldn’t even be that expensive because of how small it was, but it was a perfect charm size, and it shined, there were no scratches. In the other girl’s room in the house, probably the younger sister, there was a charm bracelet on the desk. It was kind of childish and clunky, like one you could get in those supermarket toy vending machines. He took the first charm he touched and removed the clasp from it for your moon. It was hard to do it with his fingers on something so small and dainty but after a few tries, he managed.

As for the star, he found it on a walker in the woods. It was a little girl, it almost made him feel bad to do it because he knew you’d feel bad about it, but her and what looked like her mom and dad went straight for the two rabbits he just caught, ripping their skin, eating them. He shot them all in the head. The thud of their bodies to the ground only seconds apart. Oh well, were his thoughts, their fault for messing with his catch. After that is when he noticed the gold charm bracelet on the kid’s wrist. It was different from the one he saw last time in that other girl’s room, it wasn’t a fake toy, it was more refined. Maybe they were a well-off family.

There was a star was at the center. It’s all he wanted, but he thought you might want to see the others she had too— they were all nature themed, he kind of liked it— so he tried to take the bracelet off but it wasn’t working. The thing fit her wrist perfectly and the bracelet clasp was stuck so, in typical Daryl fashion… he just chopped the girl's hand off.

Kind of gross, and he would definitely have to keep the red off of everything now, but the star charm was gold, it would match the sun charm and the moon would stand out at the center, he assumed. He thought it could look nice… and beggars can’t be choosers in the apocalypse anyway. After he took the bracelet he discarded of the hand, tossing it to the ground like it was nothing. (He’d leave that part out if you asked for the story later). Now that he had the bracelet, you would also have a gold owl, a bunny, a bird, and if it couldn’t get any better, there was a deer charm too. That’s what was most important about the account anyway.

That night, Daryl crawled into your bedroom from the window while you were asleep. He placed the star and moon on top of your journal that was on your desk, and after that, he left. That was it. He just wanted to surprise you. He’d give you the rest later. You only realized he did it and how he did it when you closed your window that was slightly left open the next day. There were scuff marks on the window sill. They were from his shoes.

After that it became a game; a little side quest. Like how people would count red versus blue cars or shout ‘punch buggy,’ when they are out with their family. An activity that took you out of your boredom, or really, for you in the apocalypse, it was an activity that made you feel oddly sane again, since you always dealt with the insane everyday anyway.

That was what today was about. At least on the down low; at least after you found anything of value for the community; at least to you two. You guys had found what seemed to be a wealthy neighborhood a while ago, when you passed that turnpike. The houses there were so big there, but all you had was his bike at the time, nowhere to put supplies and you were expected at the Hilltop, you couldn’t stay and look around.

It had been a little while after that and you had a plan now, a few Alexandrians backing you up with cars. You two finished your portion of houses to sweep and now you were waiting on the others, sitting in one of the house porches. That’s why you both were showing each other your finds from this place and the others.

You continued to hold the Eiffel Tower charm in your hand, “Maybe we should go to Paris…” Your voice was wistfully, then a quietness lingered in the air, it made you laugh awkwardly, releasing the tension. Your suggestion was one of those silly things you say where you mean it, but you pretend it’s just a joke, knowing it won’t have any outcome. “All of us, I mean,” you do mean it, but at the same time you we’re just talking about him right now. “That would be nice.”

“What would I do in Paris?” He asks it while he fixes his weapons, you’re sitting back, looking at the trees. He thought it was a ridiculous idea. He’s never been anywhere. He hadn’t even been to Virginia or D.C. before this and there’s no way he could go anywhere else now.

“Well I guess we’re never going to know unless we find out… you can eat!” You laugh, “You do like eating.”

He snorts, “Who knows if there’s food left there.”

Pessimist. “Again— we’re never going to know unless we find out.”

“Have fun tryin’ to become a pilot,” his drawl comes out strong on that last word. “Or a plane.”

“I guess that’s the next charm we need to find, an airplane or a captain’s hat. I am a pilot… or I can pretend to be.” There’s that smile again, “I can do anything.”

“Bet you could.” He meant it.

You nod, your next words making you laugh at yourself, “I’m Barbie.”

“Better,” he mutters. You can barely hear it. You don’t know if it was real so you say nothing until—

“We’re going to travel the world some day, Daryl.” You say it so surely, breaking the moment of silence, “We’ll find a way.” As long as we’re together. As long as you want me.

That’s all you wanted, truly. Even if this world really couldn’t take you to Paris, or New York, or anywhere out of Virginia. All you wanted was him. All you wished and hoped for is that he wanted you… but did he? You still weren’t sure.

Trinket No. 4: The Flower and the Photograph 𓇢𓆸

Back Pocket Memory

You two were almost near Alexandria, only a few miles left to drive. “Do you think we can just sit down over there before heading back?”

Daryl continued driving, “Dangerous to leave a good van with supplies just put.”

You pointed to the clearing you were referring to ahead. The trees were sparse in that area, it might have been a meadow, but you didn’t know the difference. There was a little pond near the center. “Can we just drive the car a little bit closer? Just for a few minutes?” You look up at him, your eyes doing that little sunshine thing as it always does, “I just want to sit in the grass,” you say, putting your hand out the window, feeling the wind through your fingers, “the sky feels so nice today.”

He huffs, but does as you ask. “Get out,” he says, gesturing to you to walk over to the area you pointed at. “Pick your spot.” You run over and he follows. You have this wonder about you, it was almost childlike, but not childish, more— sweet, innocent perhaps.

You jump down to the ground and cross your legs on the grass, looking out at the pond. Daryl parks the car a little behind you and comes out to sit on the hood. His legs spread, knees almost to his chest, his elbows lay on there, arms extended.

You look at him, “You’re really not going to sit down?”

“If someone comes up behind us and steals our shit then that’s gonna be your fault.”

Fair. You gesture at him to move over and you sit to his side on top of the car.

As you settle, you close your eyes and you raise your face to the sky. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your closed eyelids. There was a majestic kind of wind that blew in the air today. It made everything look effortless, especially Daryl.

His ever-so disheveled hair had pieces flying on both sides, brushing some parts out of his face, and pushing others in. As always, it was just enough that they didn’t completely cover his eyes. How does that always happen? Thinking about it makes you giggle lightly as you look at him.

“What?” He asks, becoming a little self conscious.

You shake your head, your eyes looking at him kindly, hoping to ease his nerves. “You just look nice.” Your voice was silvery and sweet as you said it.

You get up and skip toward the pond, picking a flower and coming back to him. You sit down and try to put the tiniest white flower behind his ear.

“What’re you doin’?” He tries to swat it away, playfully hitting your other hand that tries to hold him in place and he takes the flower from your other hand. He successfully places it behind your ear instead. “Better,” he says.

As he looks at you, he notices light pieces of your hair frizzing up at the top from the wind, other pieces at the bottom still moving around slightly. It didn’t look bad, to him, your hair looks more like that invisible halo he sees when you’re around, and with that flower in your hair, you look like a true angel or maybe even a fairy with all the greenery surrounding you. You’re just lovely.

You give him a closed smile, your head falling to your knees. “Pretty day,” you sigh contentedly.

Pretty girl.

Handsome man.

Then a thought comes. Your smile turning to a grin.

“What?” He asks sharply. He knows the look you get when you’re up to something at this point.

You grab your backpack from your side, slowly bringing out the polaroid camera you found earlier today.

“No,” he pushes the side of your face, already detesting the idea.

“Daryl,” you whine.

He says it straight this time, “No.”

“But…” your eyes trail his face for a moment before continuing, “you just look… I don’t know. It’s like I said, you just look so- nice.” There’s other words you could use, but you don’t, not yet. “I just think it would be nice to have a nice picture. All we take pictures of is the houses and work. It’s boring and a waste.” You pause, “Daryl… Please?”

He rolls his eyes, grumbling, “You first.”

He’s glad no one was around when these moments happened. Someone might think you had him completely whipped. His brother definitely would think so if he was still around. Daryl was almost embarrassed of himself because of it. But you don’t ask for much. Other than the bike thing, you really didn’t. You trusted him and you were patient. You went along with his plans and you could sit for long car rides and periods of time in quietness if that’s what he wanted. You never pushed him to tell you his story. He only knew a part of yours circumstantially and he didn’t push you for more details after he brought you home, so you did the same. He could feel you wanted to ask more questions, but he also saw you stop yourself, move on, you were creative with your conversation topics: you asked him about what the best thing he hunted was, or what his favorite things were about your friends. You were so gentle with him. Maybe you could get him to do almost anything you wanted without you even knowing, but it was worth it for someone like you.

You look down shyly, “I’m not good at pictures,” you admit.

“You’ll look fine.” He wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. You’re so alike, more than you know.

He tilted your jaw with his thumb. It was too quick for you to melt into it but the feeling lingered, it made you buzz with excitement and it was easy to smile after that. He looked through the viewfinder, seeing you do that pretty sunny smile, matching the yellow bud of the white flower. He clicked the button. Beautiful.

You snatch the camera instantly, “Your turn!” You were too eager but you didn’t care.

You take the flower from your hair and bring it toward him. He sucks his teeth, saying your name as he does so, “No!”

“Yes, Daryl!” You push it over his ear, but not before he pushes you knee, just to do it. He didn’t even know why he was fighting, he knew he was letting you have your way right now. “Look,” you sound like a school teacher, “very nice.”

You even out some of the frizzy parts at the top of his head, the light wind was still blowing through it, it was futile so you left it, he looked great anyway. A perfectly imperfect mess.

He crossed his arms over his knees and looked into your eyes. You held the camera to your face and snapped the shot. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him for a moment longer. If anyone else was here that could see those all to familiar hearts and stars around you and in your eyes, it was so hard to hide. “I’m keeping this,” you said, placing the polaroid delicately in your back pocket. He said nothing, he wasn’t going yo let you know he cared about a dumb picture. “Okay, thank you for indulging me,” you start, taking the flower from his ear, “let’s go home.”

Later that night, past one am, he came through your window again. But this time you saw. Your head was almost covered by the blankets, your eyes slightly open. He didn’t even look in your direction. Maybe he wanted to be quick.

You saw him go into your bookbag. It was hanging on your desk chair. He took the picture out. He wanted it. He wanted your picture. The one that matched yours of him. Maybe this was something. Maybe he did want you.

You closed your eyes quickly when he started to turn around, then watched as quietly as you could as he neared the window, starting to climb out but not before he placed the polaroid in his back pocket, just like you did. Now you both had a piece of each other, forever.

Trinket No. 5: The Music Player and the Wish on an Eyelash ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ♬♪

Never Fade Away

It’s official, in all the ways it possibly could be: Alexandria was truly your home. More time has passed: you live in a house, you have a job, you have family— it’s your friends. In some ways things are better than they have ever been… yet you still think about the night and the dark just as much as you used to. You tried to hide it, you wanted to be grateful and you were. But the things that used to happen to you, and the people that hurt you… they still lingered like ghosts when night came.

In the closed and guarded walls of your community, you hoped night could be a time and place that was peaceful. But thoughts of an attack, thoughts of losing your first real home, it left you apprehensive and paranoid of what could happen in your vulnerable state. And when you close your eyes, sometimes the past visits your dreams. It all felt inescapable.

It makes you so fearful that despite keeping your window’s curtain open, a battery-powered lantern resides practically glued to your nightstand— always on when the sun goes down. You knew it was a waste of a resource, but at least you kept it on low, at least when you woke up in the middle of the night, closer to morning really, you remembered to turn it off— the sun making its way back around soothed your nerves; it was always that initial getting-to-sleep part that made you need it anyway.

And of course, you’ve tried to calm yourself down at night using different methods to see what stuck: You do read— your neighbors were always kind enough to lend whatever books were in their houses— and you did daydream— letting your mind wander to happier, more wondrous places when you wanted to escape— and it did help sometimes, but on other nights, it wasn’t enough.

You miss watching tv in bed. There was something about the buzz of the box, and the voices of humor and romance and relatability that miraculously took you away, and helped you stop thinking, even allowed you to drift to sleep… it was a luxury you didn’t have anymore, and not only did you not have that luxury, you also had an overabundance of dead or deadly issues to worry about. It all haunted you.

You sat with your back against the headboard of the bed. You’ve yet to put on any night clothes. You had already read the next chapter of your book, and you would have read another, and possibly another after that, but tonight you knew it would have just kept you awake as something to do instead of worrying about sleep. You were tired though. That’s why you stopped, but you also weren’t ready for trying to catch sleep that wouldn’t come.

Part of you hoped Daryl would stop by, but he doesn’t always, and he probably won’t tonight. Some nights he’s out until the next day or the next week, who knows how far he went this time, you didn’t go with him and he left too quickly to ask. It had been a few days since you saw him last.

When he was here though, he did start to make it a habit of stopping by to see you, especially when it was time for Alexandrians to settle into their homes for the night. He stopped being so quiet through the window and only dropping things off. He would start coming through the door. It was just a light chat for a couple of minutes at first, then there were the times when he stayed an hour or two. He always sat on your floor, by the window, or by the door. You never understood why until you insisted he sit in your chair by the closet. It was only until a few more visits later you realized the chair's light color becoming just a bit visibly darker. It was soot and hard work and the air, he worked outside all day and usually visited before he called it a night. You made sure not to mention it, you just cleaned it yourself. No need for him to feel embarrassed.

Besides, you didn't mind, anytime he walked through your door or jumped in from your window, that was his chair, at least that’s what you called it in your head. You liked that. You liked that after he brought you home he didn’t move on and let you be. In his defense, you didn’t let him be either, but he could have always distanced himself if he wanted to, told you no, but he didn’t.

You two have gotten so close quite quickly. You both felt it and you didn’t know why, but at the same time, you did. It was something left unspoken, even in your mind, always on the side toward the back of your brain. That part knew you could fall in love with him, but why admit it to yourself if the other person might not feel the same? You were still feeling that way. Despite all the moments you’ve shared thus far. His silent nature was endearing at times, but it could also be a very confusing gripe of yours. There were moments when you knew exactly where his mind was, but there were other times when you simply did not. Especially when it came to you. Daryl always gave you just enough, and maybe tonight, it would be nothing at all.

At least that’s where your thoughts resided until you heard the creak of your door slowly pushing inward.

Daryl’s hand holds the doorknob, meeting your eyes as he steps in further. Your window casting just enough light on his face.

“Hi,” you meant to be clever, ask him if he knew how to knock, but only wistful, subdued surprise is all that came out in your one-word greeting.

“Hey,” he replied, it almost seemed like he was surprised too, you couldn’t tell it from his voice but from the way he cut the word short. “Didn’t know if you were awake.”

You laugh somberly, “You didn’t?”

“Didn’t see you in the window.”

His voice is low, your house is quiet, and people are asleep in the other rooms. You match his tone with your own quietness, “Right,” you say. The window did hit the bed end, not the top. But he knew you were a late sleeper. He even came and sat with you for longer the night before he left because you had told him about it— he knew, he had to, but you didn’t question it.

“Um,” he’s looking down, “Was just gonna leave somethin’.”

He starts to walk to your nightstand but you stop him, your hand reaching out, not touching him, but it’s just enough to pull him to your gaze. “You’re gonna leave without showing me?”

Daryl positions himself toward you and you sit up. Gingerly, he takes something small out of his front pocket, it was covered in one of his bandanas. He looks at it for a moment, almost unsure before placing it on the bed, right in front of your lap.

It was an MP3 player. One of those slim rectangular ones with a digital rectangular screen to match and a big circular button with the controls covering the bottom half. There were some small scratches in the screen corners and some dent marks in the back. The arrow buttons were starting to fade too, but he handed you some headphones out of his back pocket as you continued to examine it, it must have worked.

You look up at him, eyes wide, shining just a bit in the dark just like the little silver miracle that was in your hands. You remembered having one of these, the thought made your lips curl, a light open-mouthed smile forming as the nostalgia set in.

You move closer to the edge of the bed, the sky illuminating you more in your semi-darkened room. You place your hand on the other end of your bed, “Come,” you say as your tap the spot. He’s hesitant before he finally accepts the invitation, sitting down. You would have insisted anyway if he didn’t.

You flip the switch on the side then and the music starts instantly in your right ear where you set one of the earbuds in. You tried to put the left on him, but he shook his hand, “You listen.” You let him be for now, you were too excited to see what the previous owner was into.

The songs are scattered from different decades, but what you notice the most of as you skip through were various 90s and 2000s rock, pop-punk, pop, and the like. There was Nirvana, but also Fiona Apple to Blondie, and even Elvis. It was a little all over the place, really. This definitely had to be a teen’s in the early or late aughts. You thought maybe Carl would like this. There was even some stuff that you were sure had to have come out in 2010, right before the apocalypse began… Another kid who wouldn’t get to spend the rest of their teens, or young adulthood, or adult life like they were supposed to, like you were supposed to.

Having these thoughts while Aerosmith’s Fly Away From Here played was not helping, especially since it made you think of your lost family, and those from your found family that were gone now too, so you decided to skip, but the button seemed to fidget. You tried again, then again, even touching the screen. You accidentally made the shuffle icon come onto the bottom corner.

“Don’t like Aerosmith?” Daryl read it on the screen, but he also recalled the melody, even from just the soft buzz produced by the headphones, the volume was accidentally turned all the way up, you set it down.

You give him a light smile, “Aerosmith’s fine. Just have to be a little more careful with this, I guess.”

You continue to press forward to see what else is there until you shriek, color coming back to your face as you shake your head at the memory emerging as you listen. “Oh my god, my sibling used to love this song when we were younger.” It was Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend that was playing. “We used to put on the radio or look up the music videos on the tv and dance. They loved doing that…” Your voice was soft, both sweet yet desolate, “I knew all the popular songs and all their favorite songs whether I liked it or not.” You giggle, “I can lie this one is fun.”

You knew Daryl would probably scoff, but you lightly place the left earbud near his ear for a few seconds so he can hear what you’re talking about.

“Definitely a chick’s.”

“‘Chick’?” It was funny, and you did laugh, but you still decide to protest, “It’s just one song and…I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty eclectic mix of artists…” You continue to press forward as you ask, “Were there kids? Or- did there used to be?”

“Based on the rooms.” He nods, “Boy and a girl.”

“Hm,” you say curiously, flipping through the songs: the next one that played was by Linkin Park, then Alanis Morisette… you wondered if the kids shared it or shared interests. Suddenly, the player starts Lit’s My Own Worst Enemy. Your eyes are starlit as you gasp, “Oh, this one is so you.”

This time you fully push the headphone into his left ear, turning the volume all the way up as the first verse plays, his face is fixed, “This ain’t me.” There is silence as the music continues and he scorns, “You think I used to just get drunk all the time?”

“Daryl,” your laugh is light, “no.” It was a ridiculous thought and he should know it, but nonetheless, you console him, “Of course not.” Your hand reaches forward onto the bed, nearing where his own resided, but not touching. It saddened you to see Daryl always react like this to small things. He was never judgmental, but he was always so quick to believe others would judge him. “Maybe not that part,” you smile, slightly mischievous, “but- okay, this-” you sing-speak along lightly, remembering to stay quiet, “it’s no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy, cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me- that's you! That's literally you.”

He shakes his head, ‘Whatever,’ the gesture says with his grunt.

“No, you’re actually a little bit self-deprecating, I think. At least internally.” You continue, “Oh, and this part— I didn't mean to call you that- you see?” You say, humor still in your smile, “That part is you.”

Daryl gives you another small grunt indicating ‘no’ as he shakes his head again. “If I say something to someone, then I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if I don’t.”

“Well, you also mean a lot of what you don’t say,” your eyes trail to the side. You knew that didn’t make sense, but it did to you. There was a part of you that was still in denial of your feelings or if there was a possibility he had any for you either. You’d never see him talk or treat anyone in a more than friendly way– or whatever Daryl’s version of friendly was. You wanted to protect yourself by not admitting you adored him, even to yourself, but really, you knew. And there was the way he kept giving you these things, these little moments: the ribbon, the picture, the charms… It made that smaller part of you that believed something was there, glow and warm inside your heart.

You look at him, there was a sorrow placed on both of your faces, but he just looks at his hand that is placed on the bed through his hair, the one that's so close to yours. “You really don’t think there is anything you don’t regret saying?” Another song passes, you didn’t recall it, but then the playlist shifts to something slower, it’s the Beatles. “I just think you keep a lot inside… It’s okay though. But it is just something I notice.”

Normally, a comment like this or something similar to it would sound trite and judgmental, there are a lot of things people don’t talk about now, but you say it with understanding, a little sad because you can’t help it, but your voice is kind, like gentle fingers through his hair, evening it out; a voice that shows you care, you see him and respect him even if you do want more. “It’s okay,” you whisper as Paul McCartney’s voice sings softly, “I’m not half the man I used to be, there’s a shadow hanging over me.” It felt like he was speaking right to Daryl as he continued to look away from you.

It’s moments like this where he wants to say it all. The sad stories from his childhood that he has never been able to tell anyone before. Stories about his brother… the bad, yes, but even some of the good ones. He knows he could talk to Rick if he wanted, or Carol. His group was loyal to him as much as he was to them– he knew that, but they probably wouldn’t care to hear about Merle, it would probably make them angry to be reminded of all the bad things he’s done to them. He wouldn’t blame them. In many ways, and for more reasons then all of them, he will always be angry at his brother too. This is why he didn’t even like to let himself think about the past, but in other ways, it still sucked. It makes him feel alone, like talking about himself or his brother or the past was just a gateway to hurting himself and scaring others, scaring you.

You wipe him away from those thoughts even though you didn’t even hear them, your voice pulling him out of his trance, “Things are harder now, Daryl, but I think you’ve only gotten better.” There is still so much you don’t know, but nonetheless, it’s like you can read his mind.

“This is the only me you know.”

“And even then I don’t think you’re the man I met when you found me… We’re definitely not the same people.” Your hand is just inches from his fingertips now. “We all have things to improve on, even if we think we’ve already grown up. I think that’s a part of growing up actually… just realizing that you never do, or at least not entirely. You’re always going to continue to grow.” Your words linger in the air as the next song starts, it’s Paramore, it’s The Only Exception— something still laced with melancholia but it has a sweet gentleness to it. It's just like you. This is how you were trying to be with your words. “It’s better if you allow it though, or work toward it instead of against it, I think.” You laugh at yourself then, “But I'm far from perfect so I should really stop talking.” Blush creeps onto your cheeks, you’re hopeful the night’s light doesn’t show it too much.

He wishes he could tell you he thinks you’re perfect, or at least something close to it. At least for him. You truly were like an angel. Maybe Radiohead is on this too.

The chorus continues to play, leading to the song’s ending and his jaw tightens. It’s annoying that you were right, your words from before echo to him. They weren’t nonsensical, he did get it: he does mean the things he never says as much as the things he does, but no one will ever get to know. Not that everyone has to, but maybe for you, maybe just a little, maybe you can be the exception. And he can tell that you’re trying to me: who carries around a silly little ribbon anyway? Or who keeps their window open almost every night, even on cold nights? He felt like he was failing you. Maybe these gifts and these small moments weren't enough. Maybe they were just trinkets; meaningless, giving you false hope for a love he couldn’t provide.

You both hear the outro, “Oh, and I’m on my way to believing,” and his heart pangs at that. Maybe he doesn’t have to fail, maybe he can try, at least right now, “It’s just…” he speaks up, his voice clears, “It made me think of you when I saw it.” He was talking about the mp3, “That’s why I brought it back… You’re always humming under your breath. Now you can stop annoying me with the same old thing.”

Your eyes roll, but you aren’t mad, in fact, you can't help that it makes you smile. “Oh, okay, Daryl,” you say through quiet bits of laughter.

“Also thought it could help you sleep… I dunno.”

You nod intently at his words, “Thank you,” and that wistfulness in your voice returns. “That's really kind.”

He nods back. He’s so gruff and straight-faced all the time, but was it bad to say that there were moments when you can't help but see him as adorable? He was always trying not to meet your gaze through his hair, and it was always messy like a kid’s, just like when you took that photograph.

Muse’s Starlight starts playing as you brush some of the hair out of his face. It's an awkward transition, but it's what you get from accidentally pressing shuffle so many times. In the end, though, the words make it seem perfect for the moment. The singer spoke of desire and escape, about missing loved ones and wanting to keep someone special, someone that's like starlight, close by. You understood that. He did too.

You giggle lightly, “Daryl, you- you have something…” You point at your face in reflection of his.

“What?” He wipes his nose.

“No, it's- it’s here,” you say, taking your finger to lightly catch the eyelash that threatened to slip away from his face and onto the bed. “Make a wish,” you whisper. Your face is nothing short of innocence and wonder.

His snorts, “I’m not doin’ that.”

“Daryl,” you eyes widened with apparent prodding and pleading annoyance, but your words still have a sense of amusement to them, “I think we need all the luck we can get.” Your head tilts as you say through your smiling teeth, “I’ll do it with you…?”

“Fine.” He can’t help that your squeal makes his lips curl but he’s trying to hide it.

“You have to really do it.” You turn the music down, it's in the background now. Your usual sun-filled eyes are currently wide like the moon as you look into his, coming closer to his face.

He nods, “Okay.”

“Promise?” You sing.

“Promise.” He meant it, he even closed his eyes before you to prove it.

You closed your eyes too, “Okay, I’m trusting you.” Squeezing them tightly, you whisper, “Think about what you want, and then I'm going to count to three and we blow.”

Instantly, your heart foolishly thinks of Daryl. You know you could be thinking about the safety of your group, the stability of Alexandria, or hoping that the threat everyone feels coming subsides into nothingness, but all your thoughts are just of him. It makes you feel like a silly little girl, waiting for that big romantic confession of love that you dream about, the one that will probably never come.

I wish for you, you think. You can’t help it, you can’t say anything else, this is the only thing that’s true, I just wish to stay by your side, forever.

The song echoes your hopes too, I’ll never let you go if you promise not to fade away.

You agree, never fade away, please.

“Okay,” you say softly aloud, “1… 2… 3…” And then your wish flies into the air. You two stare at each other afterwards, eyes starry like the sky from your window.

You wished for each other.

Trinket No. 6: Scars, Marks, Tattoos, and Internal Wounds ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Things I Only Trust You to Know

It’s another night. Another visit. It wasn’t intentional this time, but your curtains were drawn. They’re almost never drawn, at least not completely. The window was still open though, the night’s breeze ruffled them backwards. Daryl became concerned, so he climbed up, opening the window wider and pushing the curtains to the side to get through.

He saw you crying.

Hearing the thud of his boots stomp lightly to the ground triggered you to turn, body facing the closet as you were curled in your bed. You didn’t want him to see you. “I’m tired tonight, Daryl.” Your voice was low, you tried to keep in neutral. For the most part you were doing well, but it was still obvious you weren’t fine— he saw your face before you covered it.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, his legs hitting by your feet. He didn’t feel like asking if you were okay if you were going to lie and say no. “You can tell me to go if you want,” was all he said, rubbing your arm as he did and then let go. You starting sniffling involuntarily because of the touch. You realized you were holding in a breath, the shaky exhale came out louder than you wished it did. “I’m sorry,” your voice blubbering. You were embarrassed. You hadn’t done this in front of him since before he brought you home.

“Don’t gotta be.”

“I feel stupid,” you say under your breath. You’re still trying to hide your face.

“Stop.” He puts his hand over your body now, on the bed, and he faces you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head slowly, looking at him, “I don’t know how to say. I can’t-”

“Just say it,” he said calmly.

You felt heat rising from your throat, it was like the words were trying to come out, but it felt scary to do so, it made your teeth grind against each other. Your head shakes harder, “I don’t think I can.”

He brings a hand to your face and wipes some of your tears with his thumb, “What would you tell me?”

You would tell him to speak, that it’s okay, you both knew it. The thought makes you sit up in your bed, tears still running down your cheeks, but you were going to try.

“You’re just going to get annoyed,” you wipe some of your tears with your wrist, “think I’m dumb, like a little girl.”

“You’re not dumb,” he spoke over you before you finished.

You pause, you shake your head again. The words are on your tongue but you just feel so bad and so embarrassed to admit it. “Sometimes I just…” your voice hitches and your hands goes to your head, more tears fall, “it’s just one of those days, I guess.”

One of Daryl’s hands goes to your shoulder and your upper back, he pats you until it quickly becomes a soft, swaying motion.

Your voice doesn’t go above the lightest whisper as you try to start again, “Sometimes- I just look at myself and I-” a sob erupts from your throat and tears roll much quicker, “I know you’re going to think I’m stupid, but sometimes I just wonder if anyone could love me.” It doesn’t even feel good to finally admit it, but you continue, “I feel like there’s something wrong with me. Like maybe I’m not enough. Or I’ll never be.”

Daryl’s face heats up. How could you ever feel that way about yourself? How do you not see yourself as anything less than everything he’s seen in you since the day he met you? You’re not stupid. Never. He feels stupid for not seeing this in you. He feels stupid for it being so hard for him to tell you everything wonderful about yourself in the way you deserve.

He thinks for a moment, he wishes he was more poetic, but he wasn’t and there are still certain things he’s not ready to say. So he decides on something else as he calls your name, “You’re telling me you can’t see you’re a tough son of a bitch?” The phrase makes you laugh involuntarily through your tears, he always says it like it’s one word. “One that found a way to burn down a hospital and kill a bunch of dickheads in one go just to stay alive?” He huffs, “Prettiest arsonist I’ve seen.”

You gasped but it made you smile lightly, it was funny. “I’m not an arsonist! And it was only part of the building.”

“Coulda fool me.” He tilts his head, “But you’re also probably one of the best scavengers we got. And you’re a good friend.” His hand travels to your knee, “You’re really good at talkin’ to people… and to me.”

You try to let his words fill you up but there is still doubt. “I don’t feel like pretty and really good are the right words.”

“Then you’re wrong.”

You shake your head.

He doesn’t get it, “Well, what do you see that I’m not?”

Your heart beats ferociously, you don’t move, you’re hesitant, you don’t know if this is right, but there is a part of your that wants to. “Can I show you something?” You asked.

He nods.

It’s scary, but you decide to trust him, showing him the part of yourself you felt most ashamed of. The part of you that you thought was unloveable.

But he sees nothing shameful, nothing bad, he just holds onto it or another part of you, caressing you gently. “You’re perfect,” he says, shrugging as if his words aren’t a big deal, but he knows they are. This is the first time he doesn’t keep a thought like this in his head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He turns his back on you now, and he takes a breath, sighing deeply. You’re confused until he sighs and starts to speak; “When you were with those guys— and I know it ain’t the same, but— I know what it’s like. For people to use you.” He swallows hard, “I don’t like myself all the time neither.”

Your eyes widen. He was taking off his shirt. The first thing you see are tattoos, until your eyes travel to the other side, you see what he meant; the scars. “My dad. He was a drunk and a loser and an asshole.” Daryl's voice hitched, you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, but you had never heard him like this before. “He did it to my brother too, Merle. But then he just left when he was old enough. Didn’t even give a shit that our dad was gonna do it to me,” there was anger in his voice. “He said he didn’t know,” and then he chokes on his words, “but how can I believe that? Thought it’d just skip a generation? He never changed. Neither of ‘em.” You wanted to hold him, but you didn’t know if it was too soon. He was still speaking, “Then when I got old enough, I left too. Some time later I started drifting ‘round with Merle, like that was gonna be any better… Two fucked up kids doing nothin’ with their fucked up lives.” His face turned to the side, you saw his profile, his eyes were red, “That’s what I did before Rick… You all were going to do good things with your life and I was gonna be nothing.”

“Daryl…” you were crestfallen, “I’m so sorry.” You held his arm, stroking it softly. “But you weren’t going to be nothing.”

“Yes, I was.”

“There is no thinking about what could have been. This is how life is. Maybe this was always going to happen,” your voice falters as you say it. “You’re not nothing. You’ve become everything to so many people.”

He turns his face back around and you look at his back again. It was difficult to look at, you won’t lie. Your heart sunk low, like it was being squeezed and brought down to the pit of your stomach to know that someone put him through this. Someone who was supposed to love him. Another tear escaped your eye at of the thought.

“Daryl,” you stutter meekly, “Is it okay if I hold you?”

His nod is so faint you barely see it, but he doesn’t say anything else so you believe it is a yes.

Your fingers ghost over his back until you let the tips of them finally lay on his skin.

His eyes wince and squeeze as he shutters despite your fingers trailing so tenderly. Your palm is now flat on his back as you move downwards and back up again. You kiss near his shoulder, right on the tip of his highest tattoo and then you wrap your arms around him, under his arms over his waist, and he holds your hands there.

You stay there for a long while, you don’t have a recollection of time. The moment feels like forever, although it is sad and you wished you weren’t discussing the things you were to get here, you don’t want it to end. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him.

It’s quiet until he says, “No,” disagreeingly, “You’re not brave just because you go through some shit.”

“But you still are,” you insist. “This happened to you and you chose to be the person you are now despite it. You became someone invincible.” You pressed him against you tighter, “I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Finally he turns around and takes you in his arms, your head now resting over his shoulder as your chests touch, closing the gap. You lay down on the bed and he stays on top of you. One hand plays with your hair and you continue to caress his back.

“I really like your tattoos,” you whisper, almost a giggle in your voice. “They look really good on you.”

He smiles a little. He never takes off his shirt so people barely see all the ones he has. He liked that you liked them. “Thank you,” he says.

“Do you want more? If you could?” You also want to ask why he got the ones he did, but the crying has made you sleepy and him being on top of you is making your mind hazy. “I wish I could,” is all you add.

He looks at you, “Maybe that’s the next thing we find.” He was talking about a tattoo gun, “That’s the kind of junk people don’t need now, we’ll look.”

He plays with your hair again, both your smiles are so innocent and lazy, you two would knock out soon, but it was nice to talk about something that used to be mundane for a moment.

“What if we do it and it turns out bad?”

“We’re not gonna find it tomorrow.”

“Right,” you say, moving on. “You know… I remember I used to be so scared of that stuff— needles and blood. I can imagine wincing just thinking about a needle touching me at the doctor’s… But now, I think that’s a pain I’d actually prefer… Rather than the other things we’ve gone through… If there ever was a choice like that.”

He agrees, “If there was a choice, I’d be covered by now.”

You two laugh at that, letting go of each other. Your bodies are on your sides, parallel to one another as you lay down. You’re on the side that faces the window and Daryl’s back is to it. He sees the moonlight illuminate your face because of it, the glow makes you look enchanting.

He wonders if you would get one— a tattoo, or another one, of this: of the moon; of the night where you showed each other parts of your bodies you wanted to hide, thinking they were flaws; of the night where you accepted each other fully despite it. Where he laughed and felt happy even after he shared something so dark. He almost never laughs or feels happiness in its totality, but with you, he does. It happened right now as he’s looking at you.

You see his face glistening in tandem with the white light that shines on you, it’s darker, but it’s still there. You were wondering the same exact thing.

Your eyes feel heavy now. They slowly flutter shut, but you try to keep them open. You don’t want him to leave. But he sees that your face dozing off, you’re tired, your eyes keep trying to close and close fully. He quietly gets up to go, but you stop him. Holding onto his forearm, sliding down to his hand. “Just stay,” you murmur, “please,” it’s light and dream-like. So he does. He doesn’t want to let go of your hand. He doesn’t want to let go of you.

You both stay at your sides, your intertwined hands at the center. He continues to look at you and you smile softly as your body finally allows your eyes to close shut. You drift swiftly to sleep. And he stays awake for a while longer, fixed on you and your slowing breath until sleep finds him too.

Daryl being right there, and you being right next to him, made everything infinitely better.

Despite it being vague on details, feel free to skip around areas of this one if you are not comfortable with reading about the reader being imprisoned at the Sanctuary.

Trinkets No. 7 & 8: The Second Ribbon and the First Kiss ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ જ⁀➴ -`♥︎´-

Confessions From a Broken Bowman and a Battered Beaut

It had taken a long while for you and Daryl to talk again after you escaped the Sanctuary.

The last time he saw you was through your tears as Negan’s men threw him in a van, your eyes bloodshot, wanting to scream and plead. He felt it was his fault that he didn’t fight harder; he felt that it was his fault that you were in there for so long; felt it was his fault that you were taken there in the first place. He couldn’t save Glenn— a burden he still carried so deeply, even after talking to Maggie— and that led to not being able to save you. He felt like he left you, not knowing you would have been in the same place he was if he didn’t escape before you got there. But what choice did he have? He didn’t know. And he doesn’t even know if it’s a good or bad thing to admit that in a heart beat, he would take another day of torture, of abuse and pain, if it meant he was with you, and you could make it out together. One more day for him would have been worth your days only adding up to one hand if it could. It would have been better than just waiting for you on the other side. Having to hide just so Negan wouldn’t find him and kill him and more of his friends because of it.

And even worse, what if he threatened Daryl with you instead? Especially since you were still there, with him. That’s part of the reason why Daryl wanted to blow up the Sanctuary. It would have just been one side. Just enough to cause the chaos you needed to run away from your captures and back home. You were fast enough, he knows you are, and you must have known all the exits by now. He tried to convince himself of it. Rick told him it was a bad idea, dangerous to do that to the workers, and most importantly to you— it too many what ifs if it didn’t work out— but what else was he supposed to do? He needed you out, and the Saviors to be gone. It felt like the only choice.

But then, Daryl saw your face. You got out, you didn’t need another fire. It must have been their first attack against the Sanctuary that helped.

Your breathing was so heavy when you finally stopped, you were running so fast, there were patches of dirt all over you, sweat dripping from your neck. It must have been fate that he, Tara, Micchone, and Rosita were right there on the other side, ironically trying to go back to the place you just escaped from.

All their guns were pointed in your direction. They heard the gunshots, they heard someone running. They instantly dropped everything when they saw that it was you.

It felt like the world turned in its full rotation in seconds, coming into a halt all in this moment. The woods, the running, the chance encounter— him; it’s like you were brought right back to the start.

He was speechless, stunned in a way he didn’t expect, mouth agape and yours the same. You didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know how to apologize in the way he felt he should, so you both just stood there. Tears started to well in your eyes. All he did in the end was look down.

This exchange of stares happened only in a mere matter of seconds until Rosita brought you in for a hug, cursing leaving even though she knew you didn’t have a choice, being so happy you were back, but for you it felt agonizingly long.

And for Daryl, it all felt endlessly hopeless. The reality that his plan probably could, or most definitely would have killed you sunk in. He was stupid for thinking that it could work. And seeing you in that wife's dress? A black bow tied to the back of your head? It was unbearable. He hates that he found it hard to even look at you.

The two other women welcomed you back, Michonne even looked teary eyed. The sight made some of your own tears fall because of it. She took you by the shoulder and Rosita took your waist, guiding you to the trunk. Tara went back near Daryl, she wanted to ask if their new plan at the Sanctuary was still a go but waited when she noticed Rosita sent a glare Daryl’s way. It honestly did more to Tara than Daryl. He didn’t even bother meeting her face, he was already punching himself for his silence, for his inaction. He just got in the driver’s seat and took off.

After that, you watched him, waiting to see when his eyes would finally meet yours, but he tried to avoid them as much as he could. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were okay when Alexandria fell and you were all in the sewers, and when he entrusted you to take care of Judith as he guided everyone to the Hilltop afterwards.

This treatment was excruciating, but you said nothing. You didn’t feel like yelling at him, you just wanted him. And there was no time between when you came back to right now when you could speak alone anyway if you did want to yell. If you asked why he probably would just shoved you off and you’d get more sad and upset than you already were, or maybe you’d pester, demanding some kind of answer and he'd be the one that might yell… no reason to fight in front of people, especially since there are so many other things to worry about.

But you remember when you finally got to the Hilltop, and how you saw the way he embraced Carol almost right after he saw her. You weren’t upset about that specifically. You admired Carol, even if you didn’t get to know her that well yet. You knew they loved each other, you thought they had a beautiful relationship… It wasn’t that. It was the fact that you fought all the way to get back to your family, to him, and it felt like it was all just so he could act like a stranger again. He didn’t even say hello when he saw you, or ask how you got out, or that he missed you. Maybe he didn’t. That was the real reason you said nothing. The thought broke your heart.

You could at least say that Negan talked to you, and didn’t keep all his feelings inside– whether they were real or not, you were only half sure somtimes– but your time at the Sanctuary, becoming a soon-to-be-wife, it was a hardship only you endured. No one would understand the humor of that sick joke, and it especially wasn’t the time nor would it ever be when everyone hated him and wanted to kill him so desperately.

The next day came by, you all prepared for the Saviors to attack at Hilltop. You were on a break, sitting in the cellar. It was dark, but it helped relieve you from the incessant heat that beamed outside.

Daryl was looking for you. This happened to be the third place he went around. He had just spoke to Rick, apologized for their fight. He felt awful that it took until after Carl passed for them to talk about it, and that his passing made Rick start to believe all the killing might be the only option like Daryl believed before. He still wasn’t sure what he felt now. All he knew is he couldn’t let you two go on like this any longer. It was time to talk to you.

As he opened the cellar door he kept it slightly open, letting the light emanate through.

He sits down next to you, bringing his knees up as he usually does. You don’t bother looking at him. Maybe he would just ask you to do him a favor like last time.

There is silence for a moment. He doesn’t know where to begin. All he decides to say is, “You got Judith here safe, I made sure Rick knew. Thank you.”

“You’re the one who led us here.” Your voice says quietly.

“You helped chop a lot of those walkers down in the swap.”

You sigh, not answering him right away. “This isn’t a competition.”

“I know,” he mutters.

Silence is all that hangs in the air again. With each second that passes it makes your throat swell, bubbling up to your tongue and brain as it usually does until you’re trying to hold back tears.

Daryl was feeling similarly. All his words were caught in his throat too, wanting to be said out loud but he can’t, it’s like someone is squeezing and choking him right there. And he can see your teary eyes, it could almost make his eyes match.

He says your name low and slow, “Do you hate me?”

You’re stunned at the thought. Your words are hushed but vehement, “How could you ever think I’d hate you?”

“I left you-”

“You didn’t know.”

“I could’ve fought harder when they put me in that van, you grabbed onto me and I still let them take me—”

You speak in between his words, “Why are you acting like you had a choice?!”

“—I could’ve went back right after they told me that’s where you were. Not leave you! I coulda done that.”

You shake your head, your voice a sharp whisper, “If you tried either of those things you would have been dead. Everything would be worse and this probably still would have happened.”

“I could’ve done something,” is all he repeats. Quietness fills the space again. You’re never going to agree on this. He’s stuck on what happened and you’re upset about what’s happening.

You breathe in shakily. He’s still finding it hard to look and it hurts, it makes you sad and angry.

Your voice becomes stifled, almost weepingly as you ask, “Daryl… Why can’t you even look at me? Why have you barely talked to me since I came back?”

His voice raises strainingly, “Cause I left you.”

Your voice cries as your head shakes again slowly, “You didn’t leave me, they took me. You left me now.” That makes him turn. You see his eyes, they’re puffed and the whites of his eyes are a faint red, and yours are still watery. “It’s not your fault.”

The backs of your fingertips brush against his cheek, feeling the bristles of his beard and you go down further, continuing to shake your head sadly, moving back to your face to wipe your own tears.

“Did they put you in that cell? Take your stuff?”

“Only the first time I came there. And then the two other times I tried to escape. After that I was sent to sleep with the other girls.” Your voice is quiet, “I don’t think it was the same for me like it was for you.”

“Did he,” he almost can't say it, “Did he hurt you?”

You knew what he meant. All you could do was shake your head slowly, it was a gesture of no.

He nods, his mouth fixed. Some relief is finally released from that, but this doesn’t change anything. They still took you away, they probably put you in a cell, they don’t deserve mercy. He wants to tell you that you all are still going to kill Negan and how he still plans on killing Dwight, but he holds his tongue. This wasn’t what being with you was about right now. His mind races with plans, just thinking of how to get close to them, how to commit the final act, until you speak, reading is mind again.

“I-” you stutter ashamedly, “I think- I know that my time in there has changed me and maybe I see things differently or know more than I used to but… it doesn’t change that I’m with you. I never let that go.” You whimper, “It just hurt when you didn’t say anything to me. Like you were disgusted by me.” You can’t help the string of sobs that come out.

“No,” Daryl holds your face close to his. The bottom of his palm reaching your neck, his fingertips extending over your cheeks, his thumb caressing over the area under and behind your ears. “I fucked up. I was going to try to blow up a part of the Sanctuary… even before I knew you got out… If you got hurt that would have been my fault. That would have been on me. I’d never see you again- Would’ve hated myself.” His voice hitches, it’s rasp so coarse and grating.

You hug him instantly. Your hands go under his arms and one of his goes in your hair, holding your head so tightly as it presses into his shoulder. He cries, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop” You breathe him in, “It’s okay.”

“It aint.”

“It doesn’t matter now.“ You wait a moment, telling him quietly into his neck, “I only want to be with you.”

“And what if it goes bad? What if I hurt you again?”

“We’re going to hurt each other, Daryl. What matters is we try and we stay. That’s it.”

He faces you now. His nose brushes against yours, your foreheads connect, it makes your eyes flutter shut. Your tears are drying the longer he holds you like that and everything feels so warm. Your heart, your brain, your cheeks and his fingertips against them. It makes you feel it again, that fearlessness— you kiss him. Gently touching his jaw, your chin moves upwards, your mouths opens, your lips twist so softly with his, you already can’t breathe, and then you let go.

As he looks at your face, he smiles, realizing he’s seeing the girl he used to know again. His sunshine girl with the stars in her eyes. They’re shining up, still half sad and glossy, but the bright lights are slowly coming back on. His dream is back. She’s real. You’re real. You’re trying, you’re staying, so will he.

He takes your neck and kisses you this time. His tongue slips in, you’re so surprised, you gasp into his mouth. It makes you both smile into the kiss. You come closer and he helps you into his lap, allowing you to lean in. His hands go to your waist and yours to his shoulders. Then one of his hands runs up to your hair and your opposite hand does the same to him. You want to touch each other everywhere now.

Then he feels the ribbon, the black one. It makes him stop.

You’re worried, “What happened?”

He holds the piece of hair that the ribbon is secured to, it’s only a little part, the rest of your hair is down, and he undoes the bow, discarding it to the ground. Your hair falls messily over your ears and down your neck. “You don’t need that anymore.”

Daryl pushes your hips and you sit on the floor again. He’s reaching in his pocket, and you can’t believe it, it’s another one. A dark ruby, maybe a silky burgundy one it was in color— it was another ribbon.

“How long have you had that?”

“Since I found the other one.” He shrugs, “I thought the first one was better.” This one had fraying on one end, unraveling just a bit.

You would have said that you could sew it later, but you didn’t, you said only what mattered: “It’s perfect.”

Daryl doesn’t argue. This is him trying, he takes the win.

He doesn’t know how to put it nicely in your hair, how you do it with the different styles, so he just wraps all of your hair in a ponytail, just like last time, tying it into a bow.

It feels like a gift, not just because he gave it to you and not because it looks like a decoration on top of one, but it is all of it— this moment, the conversation— it all feels like breathing new life into something you worried might be slowly withering and dying. You exhale, it felt so nice to feel him so close, to feel his fingers run through your hair, to feel his breath on your skin.

“Think maybe this suits you better now,” he says, and maybe it always has.

He leans back against the wall and you lay your head and back in the crux of his knees and chest. You look up into his eyes and he does the same right down at you. There was more work to be done, more fighting to endure, but for now, you lay there as if you were the only two in the world. In a moment of sweet understanding; in a moment of love. You could finally admit it to yourself now, you were absolutely and monumentally in love.

… I could go on forever ♡ perhaps this can be a mini-series where I post one when I think of another and you can feel free to request a trinket you think Daryl would give the reader and I’ll post it and respond or even write a blurb for it and add it to the list if it’s a good fit! Thank you for reading. ⋆｡°✩

[ughgoaway]

my favourite fics and writers

hi, y'all!! so I've decided that this year, I want to be more appreciative of all the amazing content we have on this app, and thank the writers providing it. this was inspired by Lily (lastnightwaskindofablur) who shared how long it took her to write her series, and it made me realise how much time and love are poured into these fics.

so this list is basically everyone im following, and my favourite piece of writing from them! I don't think I've forgotten anyone, but if I have IM SO SORRY!! if I am following you- I'm obsessed with you.

anyway, so sorry for tagging 1000 people but I love and appreciate you all so much!!

(so much rambling below the cut)

@64yrsold; “aches” is amazing and “wintering” is heartbreaking in the best way. Also, all of their one-shots are just amazing, I could read them over and over again!!

@yourtouchismidas; “ruins” was one of the first fics that had me checking AO3 every day for updates. truly heartbreaking and all-encompassing. and all the blurbs from it are also amazing. The dad! Matty content mixed with the angst is just so well done.

@abiiors; is not only one of the nicest people on this app (and maybe the world) but also one of the most talented writers. so so many amazing fics that honestly, don't even get me started on bc I will talk for HOURS. but “haunt//bed” is one fic I can't stop coming back to. And “Three’s a Party” is… mind-numbingly good, it actually made me scream into a pillow when I read it for the first time. Vee also creates all the amazing 75 Tumblr activities so really she is to thank for SO MUCH content on here!! one of the kindest people I know, and I feel so lucky to call her my friend :)))

@shinycollarboneapologist; was the blog where I started rambling and sharing ideas, so she is to thank for all the friends I've made on here!!! The Taylor verse is PHENOMENAL and “illicit affairs” is a fav. but “clandestine” has invaded my brain so much I literally dream about it regularly... so I have to say that's my no.1

@imagine-that-100; I first discovered her series "Drunk” on ao3 and then promptly binged everything on her masterlist (multiple times...) “Chicken Shop Date” is just a masterpiece (she and her co-writer are AMAZING on this and I will ramble about her later), but my personal fav is “truth serum”. I have probably read that fic about 50 times over and I love it just as much every time!!!

@heyidkyay; I first read “Who Can Say No to Bridezilla?” and became obsessed on ao3. but then I found them on Tumblr and was completely sucked into "I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name" which is quite possibly the best George series on here. so much character building and back story, and overall just a phenomenal fic.

@justlikemebutsixfootthree; has some of the best smut on this app,” The Birthday Party” is probably my most re-read because it is just an absolute masterpiece. but “insane” and “direction” are also both amazing.

@imightgetbetter; was one of the first blogs I discovered on here, and I fell in love with the whole “Love It If We Made It” series. such an amazing development of a relationship and their writing is AMAZING. but my absolute favourites have to be “Bets are off” and “I love dilfs.”

@butyou-callmewhenyourebored; has such good Ross content all around, truly providing for the Ross girlies!!! but the Leeds au blurb 1 is my fav from them!

@drivelikeiido; has some beautiful fluff, and I just love the way they write Matty. but (not so) important decisions just make my heart warm like nothing else!!!

@toomuchracket; my beloved mads!! the fun wine aunt of 1975 Tumblr. I mean I could talk for 17 pages about my love for all of her au's... birthday party is the perfect supportive husband, d-word is the best slutty old man content on this app lol and flatmate is the friends-to-lovers content we all yearn for. asking me to choose my favourite Mads fic is like choosing a favourite child, but right now it has to be totally wrecked. I think that has altered my brain chemistry in an indescribable way… (edit; since writing this she has put out possibly my no.1 fic of all time, “and this is how it starts” so I just had to mention how much I fucking adore it)

@lottiecrabie; I mean... what else is there to even say about Lottie other than she is one of the best writers I have ever read. truly the mother of 1975 Tumblr. “rockstar girlfriend” and “pray for my soul” both have such special places in my heart, but anatomy au locked a new section in my brain fr. that little loser lives in my head rent free!!!

@tillthelandslide; is so so kind and has some amazing series I would recommend to EVERYONE. “insufferable asshole” is one of my absolute favourites, I love a grovelling man what can I say!!! but “Same for You” has me flipping sides every chapter, I still can't choose if I'm team Ross or team Matty.

@lastnightwaskindofablur; what more can I sat about the whole ATPOAIM universe other than it is quite literally phenomenal. the amount of time and effort poured into the Brittany Jackson universe is so clear by how amazing each fic and blurb is. my absolute favourite thought is "Christmas isn't cancelled (just you.)" from the 12 days of Christmas. it is easily one of my favourite fics I've read!!! She is also the whole inspiration behind this list and made me realise how important thanking your favourite writers really is.

@cowboylor; ohmyLORD the smut on this blog is just... wowowoowowowow. actually made me nervous to attempt smut because of how good theirs is. "Cabin Fever" is probably my favourite, I love a good threesome fic.

@alovesreading; the other half of the JAW DROPPING series that is “Chicken Shop Date”. the hours that have been put into that fic are so clear in how well thought out it is. every word feels purposefully placed, and every chapter fucking HITS. A also writes amazing fics for Alex Turner and is slowly making me an Alex girlie just by how good her writing is...

@bookish-strawberry; such such good fics in the "You and Me Till the End Universe". Ambrose has just created such loveable characters and you can't help but adore his writing. “alleyway” pt 1 and 2 are my favourites, I do love some fwb content.

@hypersonic04; her teacher Ross universe is just great, every blurb and fic just radiates the love between the characters that she has created!! but my absolute favourite fic of hers has to be "Tis the damn season", it somehow made me love one of my favourite songs even more.

@cryley; her “Petichor” series is just fluffy perfection, I have probably read it over 10 times and will 1000% be reading it at least 10 more...

@cows-wearing-my-sweater; has some amazing one-shots, and his work on “Eternal Summer” is absolutely beautiful. she manages to make you feel the warmth of summer through a screen, and it's fucking beautiful. 

@thefrontofmymind; has so many great matty fics/imagines, “Helping Hand” jumps out easily as my favourite though. Once again, friends with benefits is ALWAYS gonna slap. especially when they confess their feelings at the end!!!! ahhh so good. “Proof Positive” is such a good Ross fic, if you like pregnancy fics I would HIGHLY recommend it.

@uramilf; did the 12 days of Christmas last year, and every day was amazing!!! But £The Record Shop” is my favourite series from her, love and music combined are too perfect for me not to adore.

@3terna15unshin3; Marcey's fic "then because she goes" had me refreshing ao3 DAILY. este is such a well-rounded and beautiful character, her and Matty's love makes me so lovesick it's CRAZY. that whole series is my favourite, and my fav blurb from that universe is Toothbrush. Este and Matty are so beloved by me <333

@because-she-goes; has an amazing universe with Matty and an OC that I adore, Nora is such a lovely character and every fic about them makes me giddy. "black lace" and "Summer Girl" are my favourites of their fics though!

@theseventyfive; has such a way with words, every fic makes me giggle and kick my feet. but if you saw my tags on my reblog of "not so secret Santa" you know how deeply I adore that fic. the writing on it is beautiful and makes you feel warm somehow??? amazing.

@wrongendofurcigarette; George girlies it's your time to shine!!!! "sun-soaked" and "wet" swirl in my mind whenever I see a pic of George looking... particularly good. but recently she has created an actress reader au that I am BUZZING for. that little snippet was... wowowowowowowow

@automaticllamacycle; OLIVE!!!!! once again, such a nice and genuine human being and I am so so lucky to chat with her because she is the best hypeman EVER. and is amazing to bounce ideas off of. just such a kind person and I am blessed to scream to her over DM. her coffee shop AU might be my most-read fic ever. it was my daily routine at one point to wake up, go to AO3 and read that fic. when part 2 came out???? I DIEDDDDDDD. but also all of olives horny thoughts are... MUWAH chefs kiss.

@red---moon; "after party" is another fic I read regularly on ao3, sleepy matty after a party with flirting and then smut??? hellooooo yes please. also, “Souvenir” as a series is just amazing, so so so good.

@maxverstappensflatbrim; “show me yours” is such a beautiful universe, and has SO MANY CHAPTERS for you to become obsessed with. I just love every character in that universe, and Mac’s writing is amazing.

@justanamesstuff; ���All I Need” is such an amazing series, and I would recommend it to anyone who loves Dad! Matty content!! But all her blubs are worth reading too!!

@procrastinatinglikeapro; is so so sweet and has some absolutely mind-blowing fics. I must have read her entire masterlist 10 times over at this point. Choosing a favourite is hard, but “Does it matter” as a series has me HOOKED. (but also I love “mango lipgloss” and “wear my name around your neck”… don't make me choose okay)

@wrestletotheground; has some absolute BANGERS that everyone MUST read. Once again, the ross-tent on this blog is amazing. “Crime and Punishment” is my fav Matty fic from them, and she absolutely killed it with “Settle Down” for Ross!!

@mybrokenveins3000; college ross SUPREMACY!!! She is right when she says she is proud of “everyday rockstar” because it's easily my fav!!

@steel-elle; beautiful writing with everything she does, but my favourite has to be “But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes” (is this also because I love the song New Year's Day?? perhaps…)

@kscheibles; “e la vita” is so stunning I don't even know how to verbalise it. That fic has a portion of my heart FOREVER. But college bf! Matty is truly the man we all deserve, and I am obsessed with him.

@think0fmehigh; molly!!! My love!!! What else is there to say about Molly other than she might be my fav filthy smut writer on this app, and thats a tough competition. Every time I get a snippet in DM’s from her, I feel like one of the luckiest human beings alive. Molly does not have a bad fic (despite her protests im sure) but my top two (because I CANT CHOOSE JUST ONE) have to be “Birthday Girl” and “You Get Me So High.” but honestly if you have the time, bless your life by reading every word she's ever written.

@controlmyfeet; DAD MATTY FIC. thats all I even need to say, it is SO SWEET and it makes me so happy!!!!

@bfiaflbox; sooooo much good content, but my favourites are “Wintering” and “Tonight I Wish I Was Your Girl” !!

@nowshesdoingitallthetime; kirke. This is me BEGGING for more bartender matty!!! “Cocktails, Cowboys and back alleys” is MWUAH MWUAH MWUAH. Bartender Matty is a need, I adored every second of that fic.

@wiintring; I NEED more from Christina!!! Her writing is all wonderful, and “Come here dressed in black now” does live in my mind!!! 

@grocerystorelist; “body of Christ” is made for the religious trauma girlies and the fleabag girls. PREIST MATTY DRIVES ME CRAZYYYYY. Leila is so talented, it's crazy.

@forcryingoutlloud; wowwowwowwow the smutty content on this blog… its sooooooo good. “Beg for it” and “greedy” did melt my brain in the absolute best way, like I was genuinely SWEATING at how hot it was. As is everything on her masterlist!!

@hrryshoney; gyno! Matty unlocked a whole new side to me that I had NO IDEA was there. Like… insane. And the newest photographer reader fic also drove me CRAZY because I do love a cocky fictional man and some semi-public sex…

@the1975attheirverybest; Halla’s blog is a great place for discussion, good writing and crazy intelligent analysis of the band. “Education” and “being funny in a foreign language” are just… art. Truly. The character of Amelia and the characterisation of Matty are some of my favourites on this app. Hot smut, good writing and a lovely human being- what else do you need hellooo?? (also the pegging blurb from ages ago… yeah I think about her A LOT.)

@sugar-coat-it; FILTY, AMAZING SMUT. literally, every piece on Belle’s masterlist is worth reading 100 times over. Her newest thigh-riding blurb has been rotting my brain, I can't stop going back to it and reading it. Also, the Kylo Ren fic… mask kink unlocked fr. and the matty helping you deepthroat fic is also incredible. (can I just name everything she's done orrr???)

@cinomn; Nina has some great content, and I would genuinely recommend anything!! My favourite has to be “Summer Nights”, but it's a TOUGH competition tbh!!

@noacfslut; THE WRITING SPEED ON THIS BLOG?? MIND BOGGILING. And not only is Elle speedy, but every fic all absolutely wonderful. “Jealousy jealousy” and “undo” are my favourites, but that might change when I get the chance to read her mechanic au, because from what I've heard, it's also extraordinary.

[libraryraccoon]

Ok I request Azrael x archangel gn reader please (romantic pls)

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message from Raccoon : it's honestly a little hard to write for Azrael because we know nothing of him-

You and Azrael have known each other for a long time, before the Earth was created.

You had to watch over Heaven and make sure everything was okay. Azrael often accompanied you in your task because he wanted an excuse to escape the paperwork.

He often tells you what some souls did when they were alive and how they died, like this demon killed by a hunter and dogs because they thought it was a deer.

You got closer, and what was supposed to happen happened.

You start to date him.

Now that was fun.

Do you know what the “50 questions to see if we approve you for dating our brother” archangels/family of Big G version is ?

No because you felt like you were being questioned for a serious crime and not dating their brother.

3 hours.

All right ? 3 hours of suffering an interrogation for a crime that wasn't a crime. In the end, they accepted you, apparently it went pretty quickly because you knew them..

You don't even want to know how long it would have lasted if you didn't know them before dating Azrael.

You and Azrael flying together is canon.

You fly at least once a week, and when you don't people think there's a problem.

Literally you and Azrael might just don't want to fly the week, but people will think you've broken up.

There are always angels to come and find out why you don't fly together, even after you tell them to stop.

Although it also helps a lot, in the sense that when you argue there are always angels to help you resolve the problem.

Personal/private life who ?

You know how Viv sold us Lillith x Lucifer ? Not what it's like on the show, but how she sold it, the loving couple everyone wants ? Yeah. It's you and Azrael.

Azrael always plays jokes on you, and you play jokes on him in return.

I can just see you starting a never ending prank war, you creating new jokes so it never ends.

You created most of humanity's jokes, Big G once asked how you had so much imagination for this sort of thing.

Hugs. So there, three possibilities :

If you are shorter than him then you are the little spoon,

Or you are the same size and always change from small spoon to big spoon depending on your mood,

Or you're taller and he's the little spoon.

The one who makes the big spoon must always put their wings around the other.

Whenever one of you is sad, the other always puts their wings around the one who is sad, because it's just comforting and brings a kind of sense of security.

Gabriel is your number 1 shipper. You can't tell me otherwise, he was literally the one who managed to bring you together in the first place.

Lucifer wondered how his brother managed to find someone, especially since Azrael had never seemed interested in love before.

Michael threatened to kill you if you ever hurt his brother... you didn't feel like it was a threat but more of a warning.

You’re glad he never heard about your little arguments.

Despite your little arguments which are rare, you and Azrael are THAT couple that everyone wants.

I just know that some angels come to ask you how you manage to have such a perfect/good couple.

I can see Azrael being sarcastic, so if you are too, know that you are the threat couple from Heaven.

(Second) Message from Raccoon : Writing for a character that we haven't see/know anything about them is so hard ?? I never suspect it to be that hard tbh.

[tiyoin]

Now I'm thinking about twisted anxiety reader being able to sing really well. I feel like there could be some very interesting/funny moments (4 us not reader).

Reader probably only sings in a reclusive area like a forest around the dorm

I wanna say that the forest already has haunting rumors about it ,and when someone (jade or rook) hears reader singing they think that the "ghost" is up and active again. So students start doing a "test of courage" type thing.

I put Jade or Rook being the one to hear reader cuz they're really the only ones that would really be in that area without a reason.

I also know they're intelligent enough to know it's not a ghost ,but start the rumor anyways cuz they want to know who's singing. And it becomes this big thing the school trying to figure out.

Cut to reader losing her mind cuz she like "wow, I didn't know people thought it was that bad. How am I supposed to live, laugh, love ever again??"

When in reality they were just memorized by reader's singing. And they really want to find out who it is.

Bonus points if they film it and sent it to the group chat you posted about earlier. And reader just has to be like 🧍‍♀️ "whattt???? No way!! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ a random voice in the woods 😱😱"

I'm sorry for sending 2 long asks back 2 back ,but twisted anxiety just gets my head going.

Also if you don't like being sent stuff like this just tell me and I won't send any more. I don't want to over step at all. These are just like head cannons I give to reader ,cuz I just love making things worse for her. Can't let her know what peace is

YOU

hOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY HEAD 🫵

i’m going to give you the fattest smooch alive you don’t understand. AND I LOVE IT WHEN I GET LONG ASKS!!! so please! ask away i don’t mind, i actually get really flattered that people want to share with me their long, detailed thoughts !! i was actually nervous people wouldn’t like my long responses 😖

no cause that’s ALWAYS one troupe i ALWAYS go back to.

i was thinking about making them a singer, REALLY I WAS- but i had second thoughts cause i thought people wouldn’t like it / maybe people would think its too… y-nie or im trying to make twisted anxiety reader too much, ya know

BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU MEAH MWAH (also dw i got your other ask and fully plan on answering it, this one was just at the top of my inbox 🫶🫶)

but oh my god,,,, HEAR ME OUT;

twisted anxiety reader getting pent up because they. have. no. outlet.

none.

maybe they played a sport in their old world, but no longer can’t because seriously?? going up against beastmen, mermen, fae and just,,, men?! absolutely not.

they can’t do anything fun in ramshackle because of the ghosts can and will find a way to stick their noses into your business. also hello??? no privacy at ramshackle👎👎

honestly, twisted anxiety reader doesn’t have any friends so they can’t blow off steam that way either. and going to the gym is out of the question because 1. anxiety 2.gym bros- and working out at home is… different.

so there has to be a way to let off steam… good thing twisted anxiety reader dilly dallied in everything!!

they want to sing but aren’t confident enough to join the pop music club, and the walls to ramshackle are paper thin.

there’s absolutely no where you can go.

and yet… every time you glance at the forest. you can’t help but wonder…🤔

AND IVE ALWAYS IMAGINED READER SINGING

“everything stays” from adventure time

“love all mine” by mitski

“rises the moon” by liana flores

“sky fall” by adele

“memory” from cats

“listen” by beyoncé

“hopelessly devoted” by olivia newton-john

oh my god i have to make a separate post for this before i completely rot and accidentally write a whole chapter because i’ve been WAITING to write about this and i’d feel bad about making this SUPER LONG

but i can’t imagine rook going for a sunset “hike” (…sure, let’s go with that) and hearing you. belting your little heart to “hopelessly devoted” HAGFJAIWOFOSOWOFOAPEIFOZOQFOXOD

ROOK IS AWE STRUCK

such passion! such devotion! how marvelously beautiful! rook is stunned.

of course after you finish singing he can hear you moan and groan about trivial things but- rook hunt was not a hunt if he didn’t appreciate the gift the forest provided.

and yet, the carful hunter made a careless mistake. cursing silently, he glared at the twig his boots stepped on before he snapped his head up to the clearing up ahead.

ah, you fled.

to say rook was… upset was an understatement. yes he was able to marvel in your voice, but he lost the privilege to listen to more, to observe from afar.

the strange songs you sang and possibly wrote (what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him) are gone with the wind and the high step of your foot as you vanished into thin air.

rook could easily hunt you down, but he stopped himself after a slight muscle twitch. non non! he was the enjoyer of beauty! not the hunter! yes he hunted beauty but it would go against his very being to trap it instead of let it fly free and continue its song.

so let this be your little secret, okay.

jade would def walk into you singing ‘everything stays’

OR OR ROOK N JADE BOTH TAG TEAMING READER IN THE CHAT SAYING HOW THEY WISH TO MEET THIS BEAUTIFUL VOICED GOREST ‘NYMPH’ SO THEY CAN HEAR MORE OF THEIR SONGS

readers just like;

😟

“time to find a new location☝️”

*there’s no where those two won’t be able to find you fyi*

TWISTED ANXIETY READER WILL NEVER KNOW PEACE‼️‼️ NOT AS LONG AS IM HERE‼️‼️

please send more headcanons i love reading them 🙇🏻🙇🏻

babes this is me n u rn:

[bones4thecats]

Their S/O Is One of Blitzø's Many Exes

Characters: Verosika Mayday, Striker, and Fizzarolli Inspired By: Apology Tour and the Anti-Blitzø Party A/N: This was so much fun to write for these three. Just imagining them with one of Blitzø's exes is hilarious in my opinion. Anyways, hope you Helluva Boss enjoyers love this! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Season 1, Episode 3 - Season 1, Episode 5 - Season 1, Episode 7 - Season 2, Episode 9 / Swearing, mentions of cheating, being abandoned, toxic relationships, and assassin stuff ⚠️

Disclaimer: Fizz! S/O Song; 10 Things I Hate About You - Leah Kate

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Verosika Mayday ═════════════════════════╝

🎤 Verosika hated your shared ex with a burning passion. She got vulnerable for one of the rare times in her life and he just got up and ditched her in a painful way

🎤 You were left in a similar way. You and Blitzø had dated for nearly a year when, on your anniversary, you had told him you loved him. He froze, didn't even apologize, and left. You were left there alone with the bill and with a broken heart

🎤 Verosika and you eventually met at one of her Anti-Blitzø Parties. You attended because it just sounded like something you could have at least some fun at since he dumped you, and seeing how many others he left in his shadow, you felt horrible for them all

🎤 But your disdain for the imp grew on

🎤 As a fairly cool-headed individual, you were hired by Verosika early on in your friendship to be a traveling Album Cover Designer, Backup Singer, and Sound Technician. Your hands were full, but thankfully you were born and raised in the Greed Ring, so you knew how much work you could and could not handle

🎤 It took a while for you and the pop-star to bond like anything other than friends, but when you did begin your relationship, it was amazing. You two adored one another with a passion. And since you had almost the same experience with your ex, you knew how to talk to one another about it

🎤 When you guys came across Blitzø again, she smirked when he tried calling your name after Verosika walked off. You just looked back at him over your shoulder and rolled your eyes, but when he tried saying he was sorry, you snapped

"What the fuck are you on about?"

"We were fine! I was just having a rough night! I didn't mean to hurt you like that!"

"But you did! That's the fucking thing! You never actually think about your actions!" You screamed, pupils shrinking as you slowly became more and more like a large spider. "Honestly, Blitzo, grab some fucking maturity! If you can afford to pay them," you pointed at the rest of I.M.P., "then you can that!"

"Y/N, dear."

🎤 Calming down when you felt Verosika's hand in your top right one, you just blinked blankly at the group, who were all in shock at your outburst and scoffed, walking away. Leaving the imp and your past behind you for your new one

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Striker ════════════════════════════════╝

🗡️ After you and Blitzø's fall out, you had moved away from the Pride Ring and back to your home in the Wrath Ring. Your father was happy to see his child come back, but your mother was curious on what went wrong with you and your boyfriend

🗡️ Your father would've went up to the Pride Ring and killed the imp himself if it wasn't for your two older brothers holding him back from it. They sighed and calmed your dad down before helping you move back into your room

"Hey, Y/N. Isn't that- uh, Blitz guy an assassin?"

"Wannabe assassin." You corrected.

"Yeah! You come from a family of assassins. Why don't you spite him back by beating him to every punch?"

🗡️ So you did. You had taken one of his old journals, which held many of his few client's requests. Thankfully, you had an Asmodean-Crystal from a past client you killed for, so getting to the human world would be a piece of cake

🗡️ It was when you were traveling to another ring for a new hellborn-client that you met Striker. And you were happy you did. Despite knowing it was difficult to be in a relationship as an assassin, at least working as one, you and Striker did start your own shared life after around three years of knowing one another

🗡️ Striker had informed you of his plan to kill Stolas Goetia at the Harvest Moon Festival. Your family had planned on going there for a couple missions themselves, and while they finished up, you stayed with your boyfriend to finish his job

🗡️ Your ex was shocked to see you standing alongside the hybrid-imp. And honestly it kinda hurt him a little bit. He didn't have any feelings towards you anymore. He has the many after you to prove that, but it hurt seeing you working alongside another to kill him

"After everything I did for you? This is how you repay me, you bitch!"

"Why you-"

"Blitzo," You said emphasizing the o at the end of his name, "I believed that you did everything you wanted for me back then. But when I look back on us, I don't see shit coming out of you. Besides, I have met your ex before me. You only fucked me because I appealed to your demographic; desperate and easy to fuck-over."

"What the fuck are you on about?! I never thought that about you!"

"Then why did you leave me on my motherfucking birthday, jack-off!"

🗡️ Striker smirked as his opponent lightly shifted in thought, you merely scoffed and pulled out your own angelic weapon, that being a spear, and readied it for battle

"Let's just get this shit-show over with. Me and my boyfriend have a owlish-prince to end."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Fizzarolli ══════════════════════════════╝

🪷 Fizzarolli has a complicated relationship with your ex. He believes that he left him in the dust, leaving him alone to be in so much mental and physical pain just because he was jealous. And you just felt like a sack of naive shit when he abandoned you

🪷 You met him just a few days after your breakup. He wasn't surprised that you were one of Blitzø's exes. He's had many, and Fizzarolli was pretty sure it was up in the 50s at that point

🪷 He asked you why he broke up with you, as you were quite the looker, being from the Lust Ring and all. You just shrugged and laughed lightly before getting upset and throwing an empty liquor bottle at the nearest demon, causing him to pass out

"Who fucking know? Probably got so damn terrified of the feelings I confessed. Pussy."

"I'll agree with you on the third swear." He laughed out, making you smile.

"I'm Y/N L/N, professional animal tamer for the Mammon Circus. You?"

"Fizzarolli! Entertainer extraordinaire!"

🪷 You both bonded a lot more than you initially thought. Fizzarolli was quite the funny-guy, it made sense why he was an clown, his jokes were just top-shelf!

🪷 Fizz eventually introduced you to Asmodeus when Mammon was being a dick and fired you for someone else's mistake. You were happy when the Lust Ring's ruler accepted you onto his team, specifically to help out with any animals coming into the mix

🪷 After a while of getting closer, you were surprised when Blitzø came out of nowhere and was on a seeming date with Prince Stolas of the Goetia Royal Family

🪷 Your boyfriend saw you next to the stage and pulled you up into his number, allowing you to add your own turn into the scene so you could get your side of the story out

"I caught you cheating. You had the nerve to say you're sleeping. Just not with her, but tell your friends. That I'll be lost without you." You sang, looking at the imp's shocked face. "And I'll admit it, sometimes I miss when we were in it. So I made a list so I never forget all the things I hate about you. Ten, you're selfish, nine, you're jaded, eight, the dumbest guy I dated, seven, talk a big game 'til you're naked, only six seconds, and I had to fake it. Five, you're toxic, four, can't trust you, three, you still got daddy issues, two years of your bullshit I can't undo, one, I hate the fact that you made me love you."

🪷 As you sang, Fizzarolli admired you. His eyes tracing your form as you danced around the imp, using your abilities as a way to show everything he did to you. From his embarrassing intellect to the many problems you faced in your relationship

🪷 It was nice to dance around freely, especially when you handed the song over to Verosika, whom you grown close to over time of going to her Anti-Blitzø Parties. When you finished, you went over to Fizz and allowed him to pick you up and dance with you as he and Asmodeus finished of the song

🪷 When Blitzø and Stolas left with their imp friends, you looked back at Fizzarolli, smiling before walking away with him while Asmodeus handled some other things. You two eventually made it to his dressing room and kissed, separating only for air and to look in one another's eyes calmly

"You did amazing, cupcake."

"So didn't you, smiles."

[randomness-is-my-order]

from the start, i’ve mainly been praising the show and have spoken against the minor nitpicks but i think some constructive criticism won’t go amiss. i’m always going to advocate for praise + critique but since literally all my posts praise the show (character-work, writing, directing, cinematography, literally all aspects) i’ll focus on the main issues i have with it for this one.

i’m only saying this because i do think there is merit to the conversation: yes, i agree with many other people saying the show has a very real lack of tension. the stakes are established, potential horrific consequences are alluded to, but the instances in which the action needs to take place falls short. i wanted to see percy and annabeth and grover SHOWING their inexperience through stumbling on traps (which would automically raise the tension in both medusa’s lair and the lotus casino), i wanted them to make mistakes and quick-think their way out of it. sure, there’s something to be said about conveying annabeth’s intelligence but aunty em was a great way of highlighting percy & annabeth’s dyslexia by having them be unable to read the signs. the statues could have been removed from the yard–a move that would show medusa’s intelligence instead. similarly, the fun of the lotus casino was about the creepiness that slowly and steadily builds on the backdrop of this harmless kid carival like setting. percy, annabeth and grover’s intelligence and knowledge has already been built in other obstacles so seeing them actually fall for well-set traps seems to me like a much more nuanced portrayal of the kids, their capabilities but also their weaknesses. speaking of, i was waiting for one moment of annabeth making some mistake, showing some flaw. i think it would have been cool if she was the one to lose her drachma given that she was undoubtedly jostled hard while clinging to the cerberus. grover already felt like he messed up after the lotus casino and having percy reassure annabeth after her drachma screwup would really nail in that yeah she’s intelligent and wise but she is also just 12 and she can be a bit reckless too.

honestly, i’m a sucker for flaws. i love my emotional percabeth bits to death but would i have rejoiced just as much had both of them been a little more unempathetic towards each other and been at each other’s throats for a few more episodes? yes.

i love show grover and his earnestness and savagery in manipulating a god but do i love my little coward goat boy who slowly but surely proves himself to be capable and brave? who keeps asking for food at the most inopportune moments but really has percy’s back at the end of the day? who is severely unconfident but slowly learns to trust himself more? yes! i just feel like the grover we have now was my imagining of grover in book 2-3. we never got to see his major flaws so i’m just wondering what kind of upward arc will he have and will it be as impressive as the books.

i really really appreciated that percy’s impertinence was actually something he paid a price for. it will make his continued rebellion against the gods that much more intentional. that said, i would have liked percy’s relative ignorance of the mythic world to still remain. having sally make him so prepared that he sometimes manages to know obscure greek stories sort of blends their roles in the trio. yes, each one of them is layered and there is no one super rigid position they must adhere to but this is storytelling on television at the end of the day, the characters should have unique traits to distinguish themselves. for me, percy’s intelligence was about his presence of mind and deductive reasoning which the lotus casino scene in the book beautifully portrays. similarly, his knowledge was less about facts he knew and more about the street smarts he had acquired. in some way, annabeth and percy have a weird overlap in characteristics (show annabeth feels as sassy as show percy which is not the book dynamic imo).

i don’t see these as minor nitpicks btw – i think show portrayals have changed these characters through small changes and while that is okay, it also leaves room for improvement before it is too late. there are many considerations to be made–percy’s grief, annabeth’s tackling of complex feelings about the gods, grover’s guilt, ofc. but it’s, i think, a valid critique of the show that the main trio’s dialogue and actions could be made more faithful to the books.

also, i think the direction can be more dynamic, especially in exposition-heavy scenes. there are ways to make info-dumping fun and i’m sure the directors are more than capable of exploring these options moving forward.

there are many more smaller things i would point out but i don’t want to make this longer that it already is. many people handwave alot of the critique saying that the show is for children to which i say: children’s media doesn’t mean lesser quality media–the books were literally made for children yet on tv, many scenes are sanitised, very little left not on-the-nose. i have myself mentioned how certain scenes could be impossible to film with 12 yr olds (medusa beheading) without harming them mentally in some way so i appreciate the clever sanitization there. but the action sequences do need much more edge and that’s okay to acknowledge. the show we have now is great but it is absolutely not without flaws and normalising discussion about the flaws is only going to benefit the show moving forward.

and lastly, rick might be the author of the books but there is no rule that once you like an author’s work, you will have to like all of that author’s writing. just because rick made some final decisions does not take away the fandom’s rights to question those decisions and critique the screenwriting. there is seriously no use putting him on a pedestal–and i say this as someone who adores his writing in pjo.

let’s let the fandom breathe a little. let the mild, politely conveyed critique become commonplace as much as the ardent praise because i think that’s the balance we need to ensure that season two delivers on all the fronts that season one was unable to.

that’s all. thanks for reading lol. have a nice day. :))