#sorry I've been awol for a few days

[eroselless]

───────────────────somebody else // 4

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [2.8k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings: angst, mentions of sex

note: hi friends! I'm so sorry i've been a little awol recently. like i said before, I had been prepping for a big trip. I am studying abroad for a few months and I am slowly starting to settle in. this chapter is an insight on Lando's point of view, exploring his feelings and such. This does mean that this series will be coming to a close soon, one or two chapters at most will be added after this. Thank you guys so much again for reading and for being patient with me! Happy reading <3

Lando hadn’t been looking for anything serious. He wasn’t the type, or at least that’s what he told himself. He was young, successful, and people often told him how lucky he was to live the life he had. Fast cars, travel, a wide circle of friends—what more could he ask for? He wasn’t sure what to make of her at first. Their initial exchanges were easy, filled with harmless flirting and the occasional back and forth. Magui was gorgeous—there was no denying that—and they got along well enough.

Weeks went by with casual texting, late-night conversations, and occasional meet-ups whenever they could. They had met at a party a few months ago, and things had escalated quickly from casual texting to late-night conversations—the kind where they laughed a little too loudly, even over the phone. He met her when he could between races, and sometimes they kissed, letting the evening unravel into something more. The first time they kissed was in the darkness of a nightclub, lights flashing around them, the music loud enough that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts.

He kissed her because it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His lips found hers, and everything else fell away. The next thing he remembered was stumbling into her apartment, their lips barely separating as they fumbled with the door, their clothes falling off as they made their way toward her bed. It felt right. At that moment.

It was fun, exhilarating even. They knew each other on a physical level that went beyond any of his past experiences. In the dim haze of his newfound adulthood, this was what Lando thought he needed. And people thought they looked good together, so why not? It could work.

But something still didn’t feel complete. He began to wonder if he was missing something, something more.

Then he met you.

Lando had noticed you before he had even spoken to you directly. There was something different in the air around you as you moved through the hospitality suite. He remembered watching you stand near the garage, focused, observing everything but never really interacting unless needed. It intrigued him. You weren’t a fan, he could tell—not in the way some others were. Unlike most, you didn’t treat the drivers like celebrities; you treated them like people. It was refreshing. He watched you from a distance at first, trying to figure you out. You were polite but distant, professional.

You weren’t the kind of person to seek attention, and that intrigued him. You were there, working quietly, your head down, but always aware of your surroundings. He liked that.

After that first day, he found himself wandering back into the hospitality suite, dodging journalists and photographers as he snuck away to find you. He always made up an excuse to see you, not fully aware of the brewing feelings in the back of his mind.

You were friends, exchanging late-night calls, staying behind sometimes at the hospitality suite to keep you company as you arranged things back into their places. He’d ask you questions about your life outside of racing, curious about the parts of you that didn’t revolve around the sport. Over time, you opened up more to him. You indulged in his mannerisms, leaning into him when the opportunity arose. He gradually picked up on your habits, like the way you concealed your smile behind your hands or how you fiddled with the long ties of your work apron. Seeing you began to make his heart race.

The more you interacted, the more fascinated he became. Without even realizing it, you became someone he relied on. When he was feeling down after a tough race or just needed a distraction from the world, he found himself texting you, sending you stupid memes or random thoughts. And you always replied, often with that teasing wit he’d grown to love. It made him feel like you were more than just a part of his world—you were becoming his world.

The moments that made his heart race became more frequent—a photo of your smile, a teasing emoji after a flirty remark, or that time you sent him a voice note, laughing at something he had said.

That laugh... it stuck in his mind for days. He found himself cringing at the thought, comparing it to music. But truly, was a melody, a song he never wanted to stop hearing.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He hadn’t even realized how touchy he was with you until someone—probably Carlos—pointed it out. “Mate, you’re always finding an excuse to be near her,” he had teased, nudging Lando with his elbow.

Lando shrugged it off at first, but the truth was, Carlos wasn’t wrong. Whenever you were near, his hand naturally found the small of your back, his arm draping over your shoulder when you both walked together, or his fingers brushing against yours when you handed him something. The touches were light, casual—but they weren’t insignificant. You leaned into his touch, beginning to feel at home. It felt so natural, like you’d always been in his space.

Lando felt the shift long before he was willing to admit it. It was subtle. The way you began to pull away during team events, your texts becoming shorter and less frequent. Your touches were more hesitant, less willing to stay in his arms when they enveloped you. More quiet when others were around, and even more so when it was just the two of you. He racked his brain trying to figure out what went wrong, but every time he thought about asking, he stopped himself. Could he be imagining it?

He tried distracting himself, telling himself it was nothing. There was always Magui, after all. She’d been popping in and out of his life more times than he could count, and every time he thought he was done, she found a way back in. Sometimes, when he felt lonely or frustrated after another awkward interaction with you, he’d slip into old habits. He’d wake up in Magui’s bed, her arm draped over his chest, and he’d tell himself it didn’t mean anything. And it didn’t. Not really.

But it didn’t fill the gap. It didn’t make him stop thinking about you. No matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they kept coming back. He missed you, he felt lonely without you in the busy world you both found yourselves in. You were the one he wanted, even if he couldn’t say it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The night at the club was a turning point. You were there, a few drinks in, your inhibitions lowered, and for the first time in a while, you weren’t pulling away from him. He had to stop himself from kissing you when he first pulled you into his arms. Your perfume was one he almost hadn’t recognized, knowing you only wore it a few times when going out. He’d smelled it on you on the rare occasions when you weren’t working hospitality at McLaren dinners. It was so… you.

He spent most of the night watching you, unable to keep his eyes off your frame as you swayed drunkenly with Alex and Lily. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t tear his gaze away from the way you were so you in that moment. Every time you moved in time with the music, he could feel himself falling deeper under the spell you unknowingly had him under.

He had to stop himself from kissing you right then and there when he pressed into you from behind, taking your hips into his hands. Your flowery scent mixed with the tang of alcohol and sweat was intoxicating, and it took everything in him not to lean down and meld his lips to yours.

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as the bass of the music thumped in his chest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t dare ruin the moment with words, but he knew you could feel the way his body responded to yours. The tension was electric, each second of your closeness like a silent admission that neither of you could avoid anymore.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t tell him to stop. Your body felt heavenly against his, fitting right where it needed to. His hands were everywhere and nowhere all at once. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Lando’s thoughts were a mess. Every time your hips brushed against him, his breath caught, and his brain spun in circles, trying to make sense of what this was. Did you feel the same pull? The same desire that clawed at him every time you were near? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

The moment you stepped off the dance floor, Lando took your hand, leading you toward the darkened hallway. Neither of you said a word as you slipped into the bathroom, the music muffled by the walls around you. He pinned you against the cool surface of the sink, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation he hadn’t realized he was carrying. You kissed him back, just as hungry, and for a moment, he let himself forget the confusion, the hesitation, everything except the way your body felt pressed against his.

He wanted to take you right there and then, not wanting to wait any longer. Your soft moans sent shivers down his spine, and he wanted more—needed more. His hands slid down to the hem of your dress, ready to lose himself in you entirely.

And just as they did, there was a sharp, sudden knock on the door that had the two of you jumping. He cursed the Dutch driver as he pulled the two of you out of your lustful haze, grounding both of you back in reality. There was a sudden soberness instilled in your bodies as you left the restroom, only spurring him to drink more as the night dragged on.

The rest of the night was a blur. He remembered drinking more, trying to drown the frustration gnawing at him. But he knew one thing for certain: you had come home with him. He remembered your face hovering over him as he lay in bed, the soft light casting a glow around your hair like a halo.

You slipped under the covers beside him, and for a brief moment, everything felt perfect.

When he wakes up alone, he can still smell your perfume. It lingers on the sheets, the only proof that you were there the night before. He lies there, staring at the ceiling, his bed still warm from where you had been beside him, and he tries to convince himself that it doesn’t matter. That you’ll be okay, that things will eventually go back to normal.  

He sees his phone charging on the opposite bedside table and reaches across the bed to check it. It's almost dead, having just barely been plugged in. He reaches for it, expecting—hoping—for a message from you, but instead, it’s from her.  

already missing you, when are you coming over again? last night was fun ;)

It's a message he’s been avoiding, a message he’s been ignoring all night long. Lando swears under his breath, tossing his phone to the side. He hasn’t seen Magui in weeks, but she has a way of showing up at the worst possible times, like a ghost from his past that refuses to be laid to rest. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him. What if you saw the message? What if that’s why you left?  

But deep down, he knows that isn’t it. There’s something else going on, something more that you haven’t talked about, something you’re both avoiding. And he hates it.  

Sitting up in bed, he runs a hand through his messy curls, his mind racing. He can’t keep doing this—dancing around his feelings, pretending everything is fine when it clearly isn’t. He needs to talk to you, to figure out what’s going on, but the thought of confronting it scares him more than he’s willing to admit.  

Because what if you don’t feel the same way? What if this is all in his head, and you’re just trying to let him down gently? He can’t bear the thought of losing you completely, even if it means staying in this strange limbo where things are left unsaid.  

But one thing is clear—Magui isn’t what he wants anymore. Not really. She’s a distraction, a way to fill the void that has grown between him and you. But it’s not enough. You’re what he wants, the one who makes his heart race and his thoughts spin in ways he hasn’t felt before.  

Lando glances at his phone again, the urge to text you overwhelming. He types out a message, his fingers hesitating over the send button.  

Hey, can we talk?

Simple. Direct. But as his thumb hovers over the screen, doubt creeps in. What if you don’t reply? What if this is the end? 

Before he can hit send, he tosses his phone to the side once again, the message box now empty.  

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When he pulls you into his driver’s room, it’s not a decision—it’s instinct. Carlos’s words still ring in his ears, but it’s the image of someone else's hands on you, someone other than him, that makes his blood roar in his veins. His thoughts, his feelings, everything he’s been holding back solidifies in an instant. He crosses the distance between you, heart thrumming wildly in his chest. Without a word, his hands find your face, and his lips meet yours, slow and deep, pouring everything he’s never had the courage to say. You don’t pull away; you don’t ask questions. Maybe, somehow, you always knew.

It wasn’t like the kiss in the club—this one was softer, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. It’s tender, woven with unspoken confessions, full of the vulnerability he’s buried for too long. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and you match his intensity, your body melting into his, as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment forever. 

Neither of you speak—words would only shatter the fragile understanding that lingers between you. Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?

But as quietly as you slipped into his room, you slip out and away. He’s left sitting in the dim light, staring at the bed, his heart still racing but now hollow. You left without a word, but this time the emptiness feels sharper. You had clung to each other as though trying to hold back the inevitable, a storm of passion that left him breathless. Yet, as he had laid on your chest, listening to your heartbeat fade into silence, he can’t shake the feeling that this was an ending. That whatever it was you had—whatever it could have been—was slipping through his fingers like sand.

Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When the next race weekend arrives, Lando paces restlessly through the hospitality suite. His stomach is in knots, his mind spinning at a pace faster than he’s ever driven. He goes over the words he’s rehearsed a thousand times in his head, thinking about how he should’ve spoken sooner, how he should’ve laid everything bare instead of relying on touches and stolen moments to convey what he’s felt for so long. Fifteen minutes pass. You’re still not there.

In the time he’s known you, he’s learned that you’re never late. Even when you were nervous or uncertain, you would always show up. Maybe it’s just traffic, he tells himself, trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach. Maybe you’ll arrive later. But you would’ve told him, right? You always told him.

Then the doors open, and his heart stumbles in his chest, but it’s not you.

“Oh, she quit,” a colleague tells him when he asks for you. “Her contract was ending anyways, something about heading back to university.”

The words hit him like a cold wave, their meaning sinking in with agonizing slowness. You’re gone. Just like that. No warning, no farewell, no final glance. As he stands there, staring at the space where you should be, at the bar, at the tables you once hovered over, the reality crashes down on him with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

And in that moment, the depth of his loss becomes a stark, aching reality.

tags: @horseymchorse3 @bluebluesol @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @lipstickstateofmind @rafeyybabyy

a/n: hi everyone, thank you much if you've gotten to this point! I really loved being to explore Lando's point of you and seeing more of his side of the story. let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Onstage

What - it's nothing to panic about, Lori's secret pregnancy, Shane's changes for the worse, Sophia gone for over a week, and now a barn full of walkers. It's fine. No big deal, nothing is wrong, so you're gonna step onstage and act like it. On the bright side, Daryl isn't stuck in a bed anymore!

When - the morning after Keep this dog asleep. (the night where Glenn discovers the barn in Season 2)

Who - this is part of the Slowpoke Series, which is a canon compliant slow burn Reader x Daryl. You're also Shane's younger sibling

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots

References - lots, y'all, want the Masterlist?

Length - longer bc I've been awol, I've been dreading posting again, friends, so thank you much for reading. Kind feedback is always welcome :)

“Goodness. You two slept together.”

“Wha—Carol!” you squeak, accidentally splashing some coffee on your hands while you’re at it, to which Carol apologizes, “Oops!”

Glenn and you fell asleep beside each other, by the fire pit. You two must have conked out while staring at the barn.

Brr, the sun hasn’t warmed the day yet, you’re like an ice-pop.

“Wh’appened?” Glenn mumbles, still half-asleep in Dale’s camp chair.

Carl, freshly freed from the house and now officially back to the tents, also wanted to know, “What was the joke?”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Carol whispers in your ear and wipes the coffee off your hand with a tissue she had in her pocket.

That ship has sailed, Carol!

Lori smiles and shakes her head, and hands Glenn a coffee cup. “Carol was teasing them about having spent the night out here. Must’ve stayed up far too late having fun.”

“‘Fun,’” Glenn groans to himself, blindly nursing his coffee. You notice he winces and reaches for the back of his neck when he tries to bend it forward. Must’ve slept on it wrong.

“How late did you guys stay up?”

“I don’t even know, little man,” you answer Carl while reaching out for a hug. “But ‘far too late’ sure is correct.”

He returns your reach and hugs you back, tucking his head down across your neck like he used to when he was little. You press a kiss to his temple and hold him awhile longer, not wanting to let go first.

It’s good to have started the day on an up-note. You’re already on guard this morning. Less so about the genuine, bona-fide barn full of walkers on the property and moreso that Glenn won’t keep the secret long enough.

Which is backwards, but…the worry is that Shane will, um, and, and— oh God, and Carl can’t go near it! What are you gon—

“—Here, Maggie left these for you two.” Lori has returned and plunks down what resembles an Easter basket filled with peaches.

“Wait, should you be lifting heav—” Glenn cuts himself off, apparently having woken up a brain cell and remembering the pregnancy is still a secret.

You run onstage and speak up for Lori. “That’s how her arms stay so toned. Can you believe she hand-whipped the cream for the ambrosia?” Solid improv.

Lori seems to tamp down on whatever frustration she’s feeling. “It’s not heavy, Glenn.”

“Mom can lift so much, that puny basket of peaches is nothing,” Carl tells him, apparently thinking Glenn was being silly.

Rattled, it takes a moment before Lori recalls what she was talking about. “Maggie also gave us a bucket filled with tomatoes along with another big bowl of eggs. We have to find a way to thank them. They’ve done so much.” She sighs. “Even last night, we cooked the meal, but they provided the food. Meat, even. All we contributed food-wise was the field green salad and the two cans of creamed corn.”

You’ve got to keep it to yourself that by not revealing the Greene’s massive secret about a barn full of walkers, you’re certainly giving them some kind of fucked up recompense.

And like you said last night, there are worse things to be bribed with than food. In fact, you have no immediate plans to do anything other than sit here, miserably tired, in T-Dog’s camp chair and stress-eat peaches — and stick close to Glenn lest he get the urge to open Pandora’s box about that barn.

“Carl, Miss Patricia hopefully mentioned how the barn is unstable? They won’t even go near it, and we are forbidden.” You swipe a peach and have at it. The juice dribbles down your hand and chin. Carl smirks. You snort; at least he’s seen you look grosser. So, in a very ladylike fashion, you shove the rest of it in your mouth in one bite and immediately swipe another. “There’s some kind of vermin problem, too, and you don’t want none of them diseases rats and the like carry. Keep away.”

Mid-chew, you realize that you just lied flawlessly by slipping in truth. You’re not big on lying. In fact, you hate it. You don’t do it, or, at least you think you don’t? Do you?

This and the weight of last night’s inward decision that you made sits heavy in your stomach, making the peach sink like a rock.

You’re going to leave, with your brother. Shane can’t stay here, not when the news of the baby and now the barn gets out. You’ll even go to Fort Benning despite all your misgivings. Anything to keep things from imploding here when those secrets get out. Not, um, not that you’ll stay away forever from the group, just until, um…

Well, if looks are any indication, Glenn’s also busy being miserably tired and stressed. He was the one to discover the barn’s secret, first off. And he’s not good with secrets, and now has three to contend with. The pregnancy, Shane losing his temper and physically hurting you. And now, the stupid, stupid, awful barn.

“Did your head flop down when you fell asleep, Glenn?”

“It must’ve, it’s so stiff!” he mutters. “I can’t have a stiff neck when the…”

Smart, he knows not to finish the sentence and instead resumes warily eyeing the barn. You’re grateful your neck is fine and dandy, you’re in no fit state to mess up your neck or shoulder again. For real, by the grace of God, you’d fallen asleep nestled in T-Dog’s camp chair and your neck stayed blessedly straight and untwisted.

“We search for Sophia in groups, it’s all good,” you cover for him. Carl is still next to you, so the fewer questions, the better.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but you’re restless. Seeking something to busy your hands with, you think to yourself you know what? Your friend could use a massage. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, considering you slept together (lol).

Shoving the rest of the second peach in your mouth, you consider that slurping the juice off your hand may be a mite untoward, so instead you…wipe it on the clothes you wore all day yesterday and fell asleep in…such a feminine, classy woman. Didn’t even brush your teeth last night.

Whatever, a neck and shoulder rub is the least you can do for a friend you may not see again. “Glenn, I can do you a massage,” you offer.

“Wait. Really?”

“’Course.” Let’s face it, you may not see him again after you leave. Maybe no one here, just look at the track record of losing peop — oh my gosh, crybaby much? Get your butt back onstage and act fine.

“Can you, with your arm still wrapped like that?” he checks regarding your modified sling.

“Sure can.”

“Dude, that would be, like,” Glenn sighs, then you hear Lori call for Carl, who gets up and goes to his mother. “Thank you, that would be awesome, it hurts really bad,” your friend accepts.

“Eh, it’s the least I could do, considering last night we did,” pause for dramatic effect, “sleep together.”

“What the f—”

“—Bro, I know.," you drone. "That’s what Carol joked about a few minutes ago. Didn’t expect that joke outta her, right?”

“Slept together, now I get it,” he cracks up halfheartedly. But in an instant, his gaze gets drawn right back toward the barn and resettles into uneasy, blatant stare.

That rattles you. Suddenly, you become convinced he’s gonna spill the beans before the one week (at least one week!) trial. For a few moments, you feel breathless, as in you can’t inhale enough. That happened last night, too, you figured it was because of the cold air.

You cough, inhale extra deep. The sensation goes away. But now you’re starting to get mad. As you rise from the chair, you’re more than conscious of your inner kettle beginning to simmer. Not gonna lie, you sound snotty when you comment, “Glad to see they didn’t learn how to jump as high as a hayloft and find their way out yet.”

“Y/N.”

In lieu of any new comeback, you start on his neck. Immediately and likely without meaning to, he lets out a thankful groan. That warms you, and you remind yourself he’s worried for a good reason and that you love your friend.

And, strangely, then you think back to how you did this for Daryl, gave him a massage. How pleasant the closeness felt, how strange it made your stomach feel. How he’d silently cried but was vulnerable enough to ask you not to stop…

And with the jokes about you and Glenn, you’re feeling some unpleasantly conflicting emotions. Full disclosure, you’d had some hidden and very unwelcome hurt feelings when you found out about him and Maggie. Residual, you reckon, from when you’d two had a little fondness (lol Dale) for each other.

Really, you know it’s just that you’re lonely and things are stressful. Ugh, more than stressful.

“Wanna kick the ball around later with the others, see if the girls can’t beat y’all this time?” Together, Jimmy and he have been an unbeatable team so far, and you three girls want to change that.

“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”

You’d forgotten all about that. It’s supposed to feature none other than Glenn, Maggie, yourself, and maybe T-Dog. “That’s still on?”

Glenn shrugs. “I don’t remember. And I don’t want to go today, let’s do it tomorrow or Monday.”

“Fine by me. Naught dire we need yet.”

He unexpectedly exhales in pleasure when you must’ve hit a spot he needs worked out.“I haven’t gotten a massage since, like,” your friend sighs again, and he sounds weighed down when he continues. “Varsity baseball in high school. Appa was really good at shoulder rubs.”

“Oh.” A memory about his dad might will probably spark a whole lot of memories, and he’s still iffy about crying in front of people. “Want me to stop?”

“Heck no.”

“Are you cool with crying? Massages sometimes do that,” you hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant the act itself can make folk cry sometimes.” Especially if memories get brought up.

“Make ‘folk’ cry?” he teases. "You already used the word 'naught,' too, bumpkin."

You pause the massage to give him a very light shove. “Shut up.”

Breakfast is eggs again, you can smell them cooking. The Greenes have been very generous with eggs. And, of course, now extra-generous with the peaches and some tomatoes, apparently. Maybe the thrill of yellow squash or string beans is in the future, too.

Ooh, or dairy. Oh my gosh, or red meat! Jimmy mentioned they’ve made a ton of jerky what with all their cattle.

“G’morning,” you hear Shane behind you.

“Heya.”

“Morning, Shane.”

The razzing is clear in his tone of voice, but try telling that to Glenn as your brother says, “Lookin’ cute, you two. Didn’t know this was a thing now, I thought that ship had sailed.”

Yeahhhhh, Glenn wriggles away from your hands quicker than you can whine, “Shaney!” who simply cracks up, “Just teasing.”

“I’ll tease your face,” you wish you weren’t snickering back. “And you know my heart belongs to darling Theodore,” you add in an exaggerated accent.

T-Dog, unfortunately, hears, and utters a soft “Da hell?” aaand you cackle even harder. Surely he knows the not-so-secret secret that you think he’s a catch? Too old for you, but, like. What a gem.

“Glenn, my apologies.” Shane winks. “It’s too easy to rile this one up. And Dog, don’t worry.”

“It’s cool,” Glenn answers so awkwardly.

You scrunch your lips at your brother in an effort not to smile. He’s acting like himself again, the real Shane. You don’t feel as if you’re looking at a stranger, you don’t feel the urge to stay on-guard or stay onstage. “Proud of yourself?”

He shrugs with a lazy grin. “It is real easy to rile you up.”

“Mmhm, well I’m fixing to escape to Fort Benning right now, lemme just wash up first.” You insert this little seed in hope it takes root. He was planning to go there before things changed.

He was planning to go without your input or foreknowledge, too, but he was doing what he thought was best for the group. For Lori and Rick.

Until he didn’t anymore, according to what he said to Lori.

That night, the same day Daryl had almost died, was something else.

The things he said to Lori echo in your head, the confident flirting while she was visibly unreceptive and shaken.

Then you recall the way he’s been “pragmatic” and almost irritated about the continuing search for Sophia.

Then the way he blew up at you, hurt you.

And finally, how your first reaction to finding out there was a barn filled with walkers a mere one minute trek from where your people are sleeping in tents was to insist that the secret must be kept from Shane at all costs. That the secret had to stay that way because of what would happen if Shane found out.

Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine. You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.

“Lemme take over here — aw, Glenn, hey, sit back on down,” Shane insists to your friend who just tried to escape. “Heard you slept on your neck wrong. That shit stinks, man. But,” he holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers. “I got so much practice with massages from this one’s migraines, I might should switch careers. C’mon then,” he says lightheartedly.

The unease you just wrestled with lessens. This is the real Shane, the confident, even cocky, but goodhearted one.

Ooo, your breathing feels a little better, too. Cool!

He looks at you and points with his thumb toward the house. “The uh, the little one, what’s the blonde girl’s name again?”

“Soph—oh! Um, sorry, y-you mean ‘Beth,’” you stammer, all the mirth from a moment ago zapped.

The look in your brother’s eyes changes from easygoing to dampened to cold.

He tries to sound nonchalant behind a thin veil of both defense and offense. “Yeah, the, uh, the teenager. She asked for you.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You’d be off like a shot if there wasn’t another potential time bomb to worry about.

Glenn.

To your friend, you assure in truth, “He does give a mighty solid massage.” But when you lean over enough for him to see your face, you can feel your eyes darken when you hold the finger to your lips and set your jaw.

And as you make toward the house with your coffee and another two peaches, you’re grappling with the fact that, in an effort to keep Glenn quiet so everything won’t blow to pieces, you’re behaving not unlike the very person that you’re trying to prevent from igniting the explosion in the first place.

Another worry is the way you so easily slipped in and out of being onstage.

You’ve always been one to insist on truth and honesty. It’s a badge of honor you wear with pride, and even Daryl, prickly grump Daryl, has mentioned it and appreciates that about you.

And yet, look at your conduct over the past week or so. You can certainly lie, and be believable at it. You don’t like that.

Oh, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.

As you near the porch, Beth’s soft, clear voice calls your name, and she exits the house to meet you. “I got somethin’ for you. Can you come upstairs?”

“Sure. Your dress is cute!” comes out automatically. You’re still dazed and stressed. Her sundress really is pretty, though. Briefly, you consider how it would be nice to feel feminine again.

She leads you up the stairs, and it strikes you how odd it is that you have to go upstairs for whatever she’s going to give you, right? Then, you worry that it’s to do with the barn.

And you’re right.

Or, at least, you think you are. Maggie is upstairs when Beth brings you there.

The tightness comes back, so you focus on your breathing and will your stomach to chill out. You're onstage, you need to perform.

“Y/N, hi!” Margaret says this a little overly chipper, even though her appearance suggests that she’s had about as much shut-eye as you, if not less. “Sleep okay?”

“A-About as well as you, I reckon,” you answer with a hint of humor and only a trace of a stress stutter. Buying time with a few more coughs, before you get too defensive, you play it off as if Beth does not know that you and Glenn know. “We stayed up far too late and ate way too many peaches,” you say the girl. Which is the truth, you aren’t lying! You aren't lyi — nope, don't you cry! Stay onstage, stay onstage, stay onstage—

—As it so happens, now is when you recall how you are currently carrying two peaches in your hand, so your cheeks heat. The urge to cry goes away, so small win. “I ate way too many, at least.”

Beth giggles. “I love peaches, too. I had peach cobbler as my birthday cake two years ago. The ones we grow are so good!”

“Thank you for the basket of food, by the way, it was very kind.” Very kind bribery, please keep it up, we haven’t had this much available food in months, in fact, we’ll probably do anything you ask us if you let us stay here!

“There’s plenty more where the peaches came from. The season’s almost over, but we still have bushels left to pick, the hens haven’t slowed production yet, and we’re almost out of canning supplies we’ve done so many,” Maggie responds.

Beth is opening a big trash bag on her bed that looks like it’s filled with blankets, so Maggie takes the opportunity to lock eyes with you again. She mouths, “Thank you.”

For not saying anything? “She doesn’t know we know?” you mouth back.

She shakes her head.

You relax muscles you didn’t know you were tensing.

“Yay, I got it open without rippin' it!” Beth exclaims. “Y/N, Maggie and I had gathered up a bunch of clothes for charity, but that’s when things got, w-well,” she halts, unsure of how to describe the outbreaks. “The bad things happened, but, um, we, well, we still had all the donations bagged. Daddy and Shawn also…” She quiets at mentioning her deceased older brother and turns weepy.

Her big sister finishes for her. “Shawn donated clothes, too. And Mom.” She swallows. “There’s plenty to share with your group, is what she means.” Maggie nods her head at the bag on the bed, then to two others on the floor.

They're sharing...all of those?

You don’t get a chance to ask it because Beth is already answering. “When I saw how y’all looked, it was scary. The,” she starts, then stops. “Not that you were scary, I meant y’all must’ve been out there a long time. It’s scary to think about.”

“In your defense, I did look scary the first time you saw me.” Wild hair, sweat-drenched, sobbing, and covered in Carl’s and your own blood. Rough day.

But having been ‘out there,’ as Beth worded it, it’s not so scary when you’re with a group you trust. It even feels comforting to have them all. Which is when you consider how Shane and you will be back out there in a couple weeks, alone.

“Here.” Beth shyly points to the bag. “I wanted to offer for you to look through the bags first. If, if you want.”

The offer is (more) bribery to keep you quiet, which cools the warmth of the charity, but doesn't lessen the grateful tears you spill. Plus, yes, you all could use some fresh clothes, there’s only so much mending that can be done. And to be offered first dibs, even if it’s just to butter you up, is still being offered first dibs. “I’d love to take a look, thank you,” you say in earnest.

Beth combs through the bag and chats in her shy manner, handing you a barely-worn, calf-length dress that had been gift for Maggie, then a (pure wool?!) cardigan their mother had been giving away.

You find it hard to believe that she’s doing this as bribery, Beth doesn’t seem the sort to easily conceal things. She’s got an innocence that hits as genuine.

But, then again, you who hate dishonesty are apparently great at it. Who’s to say she’s not, too?

The breathlessness briefly comes back. You clear your throat and cough once.

Beth next, to your apprehension and then delight, has you try on the dress and cardigan (which shockingly fit). While retying the modified sling around your upper arm, Maggie keeps trying to catch your eye again in order to, you don’t know, communicate something via meaningful glance? But you don’t have the bandwidth for it, so return her look with a polite smile and shrug.

Her little sister then proceeds to gussy you up in a way reminiscent of how Amy did once at the quarry camp to see how Glenn would react. Gosh, was that only two-ish months ago, wasn’t it? Or has it been longer? It feels like longer.

Beth has manages a quick, respectable braided style for your hair, touches up your eyebrows for you, and even adds blush. She then claims that your hiking boots “look okay” with the ensemble and has you use the full length mirror in her closet to inspect the full results.

The dress is lovely, you have to admit. The neckline doesn’t dip too low bonus that it doesn’t show your bruise, the waist is defined, and it’s long enough past your knees to be comfortable. The length also helps lessen the lingering apprehension you have about showing natural (*cough cough unshaven*) legs.

You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.

It’s as if she knew you were yearning to feel girly again. If this is bribery, you welcome it. Worse ways of being bribed than with fresh food and a makeover from a genuinely sweet kid. And hey, since you have to be onstage so much, might as well dress nicely for the audience.

When you’re walking downstairs to bring your people the donations, Maggie murmurs in your ear, “Y/N, I didn’t put her up to any of this, it was all her.”

When you pull away from her, she's insistent. “It wasn’t her bein’ nice to keep you quiet. Remember, she doesn’t kn—”

“—Good mornin’, girls. What’s in the bags?” Patricia’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairwell.

“We had some clothes to donate since before Easter,” Beth answers. “I figured they could use ’em.”

“They certainly could. I’m glad I have plenty I brought from my house when we moved in.” You can see Miss Patricia in the hallway by the stairs, clearly wearing one of her late husband’s shirts over her dress. Her brows lift. “Seems you dolled your friend up some. You clean up nice, sweetpea!”

“Thank you, ma’am. I-I do feel like a lady again,” you allow, your cheeks again warming.

“Never stopped being one, as far as I’m concerned. Always kept your Ps and Qs,” she’s kind enough to maintain. “Oh, speaking of ladies, I don’t know how y’all are doing on girls’ supplies, but we should have enough to share while you’re still with us.”

“Margaret and I were gonna look for some more on the next drug store run tomorrow or Monday to make sure you’re well stocked.” Along with everything else on the list(s) that was forgotten when those two…got distracted.

Ugh, how different things would be if you’d gone along for that trip! None of this barn bullshit!

Again, you feel the need to cough to help you breathe better, so you cough twice and try clearing your throat.

“Uh-oh, sounds like cold and flu season is well on it’s way,” she muses. “Don’t let me keep you holding them bags all day, girls. It’ll be funny watchin’ your daddy react if one of them ends up dressed in his giveaways,” the woman comments wryly. “Now, I did intend to check on those stitches today, Y/N, so come see me later. Hersh is just finishing up with Daryl’s, in fact, then he’ll be all set to go, if you were wantin’ to see him out.”

Oh, right! Today is finally the day he’s leaving that room!

Carl, too, but he’s already out and has been wandering around outside as much as his energy and mom will allow (which isn’t very much yet).

Daryl, on the other hand, has been too dizzy and too ashamed to do much more than a trip around the perimeter of the house.

Carol and you cleaned his tent yesterday as a surprise. It was her idea, of course. She enlisted your help specifically because you twice mentioned not thinking his sweat smelled bad, which is weird, but, for real, it doesn’t smell bad to you. The cigarettes, on the other hand, ew.

“Are we not going today?” Maggie asks quietly about the postponed pharmacy trip.

With tact, you suggest, “We could all use some rest after stayin’ up so late.”

She peers into your eyes, then nods and adjusts her hold on the two bags in her hands.“That’s a good idea. I’m not up to it, either.”

Upon stepping back outside onto the front porch, Jimmy and Glenn are kicking the soccer ball around already. Glenn is keeping his neck taut as he and Jimmy go back and forth, but the pain must have lessened.

The irresistible urge you have to make light of everything seizes you, and you leap into matchmaker mode because, why not? You won’t be here much longer, and maybe Maggie and Glenn linking up will lead to the rest being permitted to stay. That’s what matters.

Oh, and, uh, because you love Glenn, and Maggie is kind…oh fuck, are you just a calculating, cold strategist?

The feeling that you’re running out of air and going to vomit returns, but you push yourself onstage and commit to the role. You have to keep your shit together.

“Ain’t he handsome when he plays? Good sportsmanship and confidence rolled into one.” You playfully hold a smile back when you glance at Maggie and giggle to hide your heavy breathing. “Also the shiny hair.”

“He does have great hair,” she softly agrees.

“Y/N, do you and Glenn like each other? I-I thought…” Beth’s face has paled.

Maybe that’s why you over-act when you exclaim, “Of course I like him, that’s why I’m such a great wingwoman for him.”

Margaret blushes. “Let’s get these bags to their camp.”

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

Him

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

“I can’t hunt?”

“You can do as you please,” the old man remarks. What, is he making fun of him? “But doing so while recovering from a concussion would be foolish, as would be heavy lifting or other strenuous activity, and that’s not considering your collarbone and ribs. I’m curious as to how you’d wield your weapon or bring back what you hunted, for one, if you would even make it off the property without keeling over.”

Daryl bites his tongue and keeps his words to himself. Well, fine! I can still bring that little girl back. She’s got legs, she’ll be able to walk on her own.

Hershel cleans up his stuff and stands. “Now, then, I’m sure you’re ready to finally see yourself out.”

“Damn straight,” is probably not the smartest response in front of the old man, what with the cuss word, but damn straight he is ready to get the hell out of there. Still, he remembers his manners. “Thanks for everythin’.” He even holds out his hand for a shake. Which is dumb because the guy’s hands are full.

Daryl…puts his hand back down and grabs the few things he had in there with him. Y/N once described the Dr. Farmer as ‘unreadable.’ Definitely is that.

Unreadable, Hershel drawls, “It’s good you’re on the mend,” and inclines his head toward the door. “After you.”

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

You

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

Dude, you had a panic attack.

It wasn’t too too bad, all things considered. Initially, you’d thought it was a mild asthma attack, but in hindsight, wow you were oblivious to all of the signs.

It started to happen when some of the group was going through the clothes, right after Maggie and you dropped them off and she left to do choring.

Lori was beside you, low-key beside herself trying to figure out how your people could “ever repay the family now?”

Next, T-Dog joked about the sizes being too small for him. “Ain’t sure what here I could fit that won’t result in a show for y’all.”

This is when Andrea murmured to Carol, “Reminds me how it’s been awhile.” The way Carol reacted clued you in that it might have been a sex joke. Especially given the way Andy next gave your brother a once-over as if you weren’t right there. You vividly recall licking your teeth and rolling your eyes.

Then Shane — and he did this without having seen Andrea do the once-over — nudged T-Dog in the ribs and began to unbutton his own top. “Worse things than a show these days, friend. And that there clean shirt is calling my name.” Naturally, he proceeded to swap garments right where he stood.

Per usual, Lori was more graceful than you. She ignored it as if he were her own brother acting like a frat boy, and merely continued to sift through one of the bags. She smiled upon finding something, tapped Carol on the shoulder, and handed it to her.

It’s been a week now since Shane betrayal to her and Rick. Even you’re still figuring out how to see him. The hopeful part is that he’s been leaving Lori alone. If his sights have indeed turned to Andrea, all the better.

Back to the moment, then you imagined what if he and Andrea got a little too close, did something foolish, and she ended up pregnant, too. Not that Lori’s baby is Shane’s, the baby is Rick’s regardless, but...

The tight feeling returned in your chest.

It was in the midst of this that Dale complimented you. “Kiddo, you’re all gussied up! Any occasion?”

“Mmhm, all dressed up for the ‘show.’” The nausea was back, plus a fun new notion of being observed by unseen persons.

Dale just nodded with raised brows, and you and he shared a look. Instead of tempering your fears, it piqued them. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Horvath’s expression started to mirror the way he stared into your eyes after catching Shane lose his temper and leave you with a bruise on your sternum.

The fears within you, the stress, the dread, all started roiling stronger and stronger. You cleared your throat, then coughed, but it didn’t help and you felt restless and, oddly, cornered.

And so, not knowing where to look therefore looking in all directions, you happened to spy Glenn staring at the barn. Again.

The air felt too…thin? And then you noticed Lori examining the torso of one of the shirts in the bag as if testing it for stretchiness or room. You could see the shadows clouding her face right before she abruptly put the shirt down. Then, there was Carol, holding up something that had clearly must have been Beth’s a few years ago, and it looked as if it would fit Sophia perfectly now.

It was just about then that your lungs simply couldn’t keep up.

“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.

You may have panted something to do with “puffer,” referring to your largely unused inhaler. At any rate, instead of next going to the logical location of the RV to find the med bag, you made for the treeline. You didn’t want anyone near you, didn’t want anybody to see you, didn’t want a fuss, didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want anyone to even think about you, so you had to hide.

Panting, a numbness started to affect your fingers and spread to your torso and toes. You repeatedly coughed in an effort to break up whatever was making it hard to breathe. Once you started coughing, it dominoed. Your stitches were tugging at the forceful coughs, and soon, you were hacking. The hacking led to retching, one, two, three times. Tears started to fall.

“Baby, here,” came from your right and a warm, delicate hand touched the small of your back. Lori. She pressed the inhaler into your hand. “I shook it up, it’s all ready.”

Bending forward slightly to open your airways, you tried to exhale enough so you could take the dose properly as you clasped the trigger.

One puff. Hold breath in.

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

Another puff. Hold breath in.

The relief that usually comes with the medication wasn’t as apparent as it normally would be. It helped somewhat, but. You tried another dose.

More tears of frustration. You panted that you thought your were going to pass out. "F-Feels like m'gonna die," you may have also said. The phantom sensation of your hand being covered in Amy's blood returned. You recall wiping it with the hem of your dress, and Lori taking your hands, preventing you from continuing to do so.

Lori calmly instructed you to, “Try this with me, honey,” and slowly breathed in through her nose. You copied as best you could.

She then slowly breathed out through her mouth. You copied as best you could.

Over and over she coached you.

Things started to ease. Your pulse was still loudly thumping, but two doses of a corticosteroid will do that. In your escape, you’d made for the big rocks where you’d shared (sort of) a cigarette with Daryl. The stones felt nice and cool, and Lori’s gentle rubbing of her hand across your back was comforting.

“Been a while since you’ve needed the inhaler. ‘Decorative,’ you called it once,” she softly chatted. The sensation of not getting enough air wasn’t quite gone just then, but you felt pretty normal again.

“I reckon the cold and the smoke must’ve done me in,” you mumbled. Your throat was mildly sore after all the coughing. “It’s good it was mild.”

“Were you wheezing?”

“No, I…just couldn’t breathe enough or something.” You shrugged. “I don’t always wheeze when I need it.” Your nose was stuffy from crying.

She was thoughtful for a moment, and had begun to lightly scratch your back. “You and Glenn seem off this morning. I’ve seen you two tired before, but today you both seem…there’s something else going on, clearly. Did you two fight?”

“Not exactly.” It’s true. “We’re on the same page.” You weren't prepared to have to go onstage again, but just in case, you tried pulling yourself together.

“Was it about Maggie?”

You laughed genuinely. “Ha, not at all.”

Lori didn’t mirror your laughter or even smile in return. “Honey, I think you had a panic attack.”

At first, you protested. “Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic.”

“It looked different from where I was. But even still, it didn’t have to be or feel ‘dramatic’ to have been one, you know that.” The nonjudgemental straightforwardness in her voice, in her eyes, was enough to convince you that she could see straight into your heart and read what was there. “Y/N, is there something more going on?”

More than anything, at that moment, you didn’t want to lie to her.

But what could you do? Tell the truth, yes, 'the truth will out,' you know that. But you were convinced that telling the whole truth, right then, would be like lighting dynamite.

In your view, you would be exposing everyone to chaos and even violence, and you'd all seen too much of that already. And no, you couldn’t just tell one person because it never just stays with one person. Lori was/is not in any position to have more fear on her plate.

So what did you do?

You crawled back on that stage and you lied — by telling the truth.

“I’m worried he’ll talk.” Vague and a lie of omission, and maybe a little throwing your friend under the bus, but Lord have mercy on you, it was truthful.

Lori squeezed her eyes shut. “Me, too. Oh honey, I’m so scared!” she whispered, covering her mouth.

So scared of Shane, just like you are. “Rick won’t hold any of it against you. We all thought he was dead.”

She shook her head and stared at the ground.“But you saw how Shane behaved, you, you heard the things he said, Y/N,” she nearly hissed. “I don’t know who that man was, but it wasn’t Shane, just like when he had m—” then Lori cut off.

“When he had what?”

She shook her head again. “Seems Dale’s on his way over. He told me about what was going on so I could bring your medicine to you. He hadn't known what 'puffer' meant." And —oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you’re worrying yourself like this over my mistake! It's not fair to you.”

“Your kid ain’t a mistake, it’s so good that they’re here,” you replied in total honesty. First time all day.

Maybe she’ll be honest with you and spill whatever Shane did that she’s not being upfront about. Whatever it is could surely have been described in a sentence. “What else did Shane do, Lore?” It can’t have been that bad, or could it?

All she did was shake her head once more. “Like you said, he hasn’t been himself.

‘Hasn’t been himself.’ Fine. You’ve got secrets, too, so there’s no way on earth can you cast stones.

You stepped back onstage for hopefully the final time, and made yourself deliver the next lines. “That’s why we’re goin’ to Fort Benning.” Without you all. “Just him and me. Within two weeks, I hope?” The nausea still hadn’t gone away, and simply saying this brought it back.

Her brows sunk caution. “When was this decision made? I-I thought—”

“—I ain’t told him about it yet.” The bitter smile, you hadn’t been able to stifle. “Shouldn’t be hard to convince him, considering he was fixing to not so long ago.”

Lori’s apologetic tone wasn’t a put-on. “I’m so sorry he didn’t tell you. I had no idea you were left in the dark.”

That’s when some tightness came back to your chest, and your breathing turned faster again. “I know, Lore.”

She noticed. “Honey, hey,” she soothed, “breathe slowly, deeply." Her hand cupped your cheek. "His mistakes, his choices, his reactions are not your responsibility.”

“I know, b-but—”

“—And you don’t have to leave with him if you don't want to.”

“But wh—”

“—No buts.” Lori cupped your cheek, stood, and swiftly made toward Dale.

And here is where you hadn’t known she was going to be quite so straightforward with him.

In fact, you’d hoped she’d join you onstage and lie, too, but she behaved beyond reproach. “It was a panic attack, so please make sure to respect her privacy about it. I’ve got to check on the laundry.”

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

Him

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

Funny thing, he’s wearing the same clothes he had his accident in. He’s in the same stuff leaving that he had been when he got carried in there, except now they’re cleaned and mended.

It’s been good to be back outside, he prefers it. He can’t wrap his head around why some people can keep inside in front of a TV all day. You don’t get to hear or feel the wind indoors, can’t hear the birds and all that.

Now, he couldn’t say for sure, but stepping outside and knowing he didn’t have to go back in must feel at least half as good as getting freed from prison.

If prison was a nice-ass farmhouse without the risk of getting shanked or worse, obviously.

Merle would have some words if he heard Daryl say something like that out loud. Though, Merle was pretty settled when he was in lock-up. Fared fine.

His first view when he steps out into freedom is of Glenn and the teenage boy, kicking the ball around. Those two are straight into it and pay him no mind as he walks around them.

The rest of the group is around the picnic table, looks like they’re sorting laundry (?), therefore ain’t paying him no mind, either.

Phew.

This is good. He was wondering if Y/N was gonna parade him out or make it a big deal, but after hearing her and the other ladies talking in the hallway, she didn’t come back in. Works for him, he doesn’t like a crowd.

…But, like, where is she? He figured she’d be around, is all, but she ain’t by the table.

Ah, yeah, duh — she's probably still doing something with the girl that's about her age and her little sister. Still seems off Y/N and Glenn are only “five or six years younger” than him, but that’s what Y/N has said a few times.

The next thing he sees is Lori, who is swooping down the yard and toward the big rocks where he and T-Dog took a smoke break once. And where Y/N had her first try of a cigarette, too. Lori looks like a woman on a mission, damn. Dale is staring in the direction Lori is walking, those big-ass brows of his slanted downward. Wonder what that's about?

Over the sound of a few leftover end-of-season cicadas, he hears the normal drone of crickets, light talking from the group, the thunk of the ball getting kicked, a very loud crow, some cows mooing, somebody coughing, birds doing their thing, chickens clucking, the wind blowing. Mmm, good stuff. Being inside and hearing it just don’t sound as good as being right out in it.

Then, “Daryl!” comes from his left, and he sees Carol walking to him. She’s a good woman.

And now the memory of her kissing him on the cheek is making his cheeks heat up as quick as her steps toward him.

“I’ll carry those for you,” she quietly insists about his small pile of clothes. He lets her.

She’s been very, um, very attentive. Been having most of her meals with him, babying him as much as he’d allow, and all-in-all has been treating him extra after he had his accident.

There are more coughing sounds that he almost pegs as being Y/N’s, but when he looks back in the direction of the noise, there’s no one, just Lori off on her walk, and it wasn’t her doing the coughing.

“We moved your tent closer to the rest of us, so you would be closer to where we could help you.”

Closer. Great. Daryl wanted nothing less, but a kind gesture is a kind gesture, so he mans up and acts proper, grunting, “Thank you.” It’s not like they went and messed with his stuff, they just moved the tent, and for a real kind reason.

Glenn rears and kicks, sending the ball soaring. Damn, he's good.

“Now, it may smell and look a little different, but all of your things are still there.”

“Huh?” What’d she mean?

“You deserved a nice, clean place to go back to,” Carol explains. “Y?N and I cleaned up your tent.”

…

...

…they what?

He gets the weirdest image of himself as being onstage and forgetting whatever it was he was supposed to say next, leaving him standing there like a mouthbreather in front of the audience. And he kinda wants to cuss the audience out.

His first idea after learning Carol and Y/N was: What the hell, y’all been messing with my stuff? What gives y'all the right?

But, come on, even he had it in him to keep his mouth shut. They’d taken the time and effort to clean up his shit and it was probably as nice as when Carol had worked her magic in the RV. That's damned decent, in fact.

So, Daryl does not act like a jackass, and instead, remembers his lines and thanks Carol again.

“It was no trouble. How about I bring you some more breakfast once you’re settled in?” she quickly offers. See? Very attentive. And he didn’t do shit to have earned it, which made it more uncomfortable.

Aw shit, his cheeks feel all warm again. First around Y/N, now Carol? Maybe there is something to this whole concussion bullshit.

Or, maybe Carol done kissed you on the cheek and said you were a good man and that you did right by her little girl as much as a father should and that’s the best possible thing somebody could be told.

“Do you want some more coffee, too?”

I wanna to be left alone, lady. “Nah, m’great. Thank you.”

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

You

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

“Last night seemed to be an indication summer was officially over. But today,” Dale blows through his lips, “Well, we can already tell it’ll be a warm one.”

“Did we hit the first day of fall, yet? I forgot what date it is today.”

“No, that’s on the 21st. We’ve got some time.”

“Oh, wait!” you squeak (ouch, your throat is still sore from coughing). “Ain’t it the Holy Days for you still?” Rosh Hoshanah was sometime last week, but that one got sort of messed up because of everything that’s been going on.

Oh man, it was the day after Daryl got into his accident, wasn’t it?

Dale’s cordial expression falters. “Yes, it was last week.”

“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”

“It’s on the 18th this year, yes. Two days away.”

There’s this very insistent raven that’s been cawing away. Or is that a crow? You can’t tell the difference. You can tell that you’ve bummed Dale out, however. “I’ve bummed you out.”

Smiling sadly, he concedes, “Jewish holidays are usually lonely ones in mixed company. And now, especially with it being the holiest time of the year, after everything…” He lifts his shoulders.

“I’ll do the fasting with you so you won’t be alone!” Ow, stop raising your voice so high. “Is it no food or drink at all on that day, or is water okay?”

A happier smile. “No food or drink — barring serious health concerns, of course, in which case, one is required to not fast.”

“No water must suck! When my lot do fasting, water don’t count.”

He nods his head once. “It’s all part of the atonement. It’s considered a blessing for us to fast for it.”

“And the feast after it is fun,” you sigh with a grin. You’ll enlist Carol and Lori to see about making him a yummy fast-breaking meal for the day.

This is what you needed. Dale didn’t press you regarding the panic attack, and has simply been keeping you company by the big rocks. You’ve haven’t had to go back onstage while he’s been sitting with you. You’d probably be content to stay here a good, long time if you didn’t have to use the toilet something major.

“Did you see if there was a pair of suspenders in the bags so you and Mr. Greene can match?”

“Is this your way of saying you’re feeling well enough to head back, or that you need privacy?”

“It’s my way of sayin’ I gotta go potty real bad.” You stand. “Suspenders are pretty cool, you can party like it’s 1899.”

“I actually quite like how suspenders look,” he chuckles, stretching and getting to his feet.

“Mm, they remind me of the Old West, I love ’em.”

Dale and you walk back until reaching the side of the farmhouse, whereupon you excuse yourself to head to the treeline and do your business.

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

Him

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

As soon as the heat starts to sink in, he unbuttons his shirt halfway and kicks his shoes off. Getting the socks off without hurting himself takes some effort, but it’s worth it. His stuff is so squeaky clean and fresh, he wants to avoid sweating the place up too quick.

His old pillowcase is gone, probably scrapped for dishrags seeing as it was pretty worn. In its place is a flower-covered one with soft, thick cotton fabric. There's some phrase about a 'woman's touch' that must apply here. Or, if Merle were here, prime Darylina ammo. Joke's on him, the pillowcase is soft as hell.

And being in there might seem boring, but it's 10 times better than being stuck in a damn bed and listening to music for days on end. Just cloud-watching through his tent window is fun enough for him.

In fact, it’s rad! He’s so psyched to not be in that room anymore!

Cloud watching, playing with his bolts, farting if he's gotta; he's content as can be. Seriously, he’s in such a good mood right now.

But as luck would have it, by the time he’s decided to see how easily a bolt can poke a hole through the mesh window (the answer is very easily, and it’s real satisfying) none other than Andrea herself appears at his tent door. The chick who shot him.

Now, she’s pretty as a picture and then some, but he doesn’t want his belly showing in front of her. If he’d been paying attention and heard her making her way to him, he would’ve buttoned up.

So, he tries out the same tactic as last night, when Carol walked in on him shirtless; maybe by not closing his shirt, she wouldn’t think about it? Or…fuck it, just about everybody has seen some part of him uncovered in the past week. At least there ain’t no scars on this side.

All he’s got to do is make like he’s onstage and that it doesn’t bother him having his literal nipples on display.

“Hey.” Andrea steps into his tent, looking like she is about to eat crow.

She hands him a book. He accepts the maybe peace-offering.

“It’s not that great, but…” she trails off, breathes out, and looks guilty as hell.

Y/N, Carol, and T-Dog all mentioned she’s been kicking her own ass for shooting him. Granted, he’s still a little pissed, and, yeah, real thankful that she’s a shit shot, but — she was trying to protect the group, right? Ain’t even her fault he got stuck in that damn bed. The concussion, split side, and broken ribs did that for him.

He figures he’s gotta make it clear that she’s off the hook without making her feel worse for being let off the hook. And, he thinks he knows just the way to break the tension. It’d got the librarian at his high school to laugh the first time he made the remark, which is probably why he was usually allowed to eat in there during lunch.

Now, he knows reading is still on the no-go list, don’t worry, Y/N, but he casually holds the book up and flips through the pages.

He’s gotta, it’s the setup.

It’s good that Andrea ain’t said nothing yet, because it’s the perfect opportunity for him to pretend to be dead-serious when he complains, “What, no pictures?”

The joke does the trick. Andrea smiles and relaxes. “I’m so sorry. I feel like shit,” she starts to go on, but he puts a stop to it.

Tucking the book aside as he settles down onto the pillow, he cuts in, “You and me both.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but, if there’s anything I can do, I—”

He cuts in one more time, “—You were trying to protect the group. We’re good.” He means it.

But, ya know, just because things are chill doesn’t mean he can’t bust her balls a little, right? “But hey,” he stops her as she’s leaving. “Shoot me again, you best pray I’m dead.”

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

You

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

“It went great! Better than I ever expected.” Andrea takes a seat beside you on the log. Judging by the look of serenity on her face, it appears that the monkey she’s had on her back for the past week is finally gone.

“Good, m’glad.” You knew it would be fine, but Andrea was so nervous.

“And I have to say, I can see the appeal now.”

“What appeal?”

“Daryl was,” she thinks on the right word and picks: “Charming.”

Ah. You see what she’s trying to do. “Well, go tell him that, then,” you suggest, cool as a cucumber. She and Dale thought you and he had a romantic thing going on. Lol, nah.

“And he was funny!” she goes on.

You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”

“Not angry, or, or nasty.” She closes her eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief. “I was so worried about how it was going be.”

You tilt your head in partial agreement. He can be a dick.

Your job for the rest of the day, so Papa Dale done told you, is to be chill (yes, he used the word ‘chill’ and it was adorable). It’s your only responsibility today, seeing as he joined you when you went to check the highway spot for Sophia. She hasn’t found it, it’s untouched. Again.

So now, your job = keep chill.

“Are you helping with target practice later?”

Oh, right, and there’s that. You suppose you could continue helping Beth with drawing her weapon smoothly, keep drilling her never, ever forget to switch the safety back and forth.

But…maybe today, that isn’t your job. Maybe you need a rest from being onstage. “I think I’m gonna sit today out.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I just need a day,” you answer in too high a pitch.

Andy doesn’t inquire further. “How’s the little fuzzball?” she instead asks.

“Still sleeping,” you coo. The sluggish little chick you’d scooped up while quickly sprinkling feed-corn in order to feel useful is your insurance for keeping chill. Can’t not keep chill with a chick asleep in your lap.

“It must feel nice and safe wrapped up like that.”

“Mm.” The chick is nestled in a dishtowel, half its body also covered by your new cardigan.

“Y/N, have you not gone to visit him yet?”

“Not yet. He’d appreciate some time to himself, I reckon, after a week bein’ stuck in there and visitors and checkups at all hours.”

Glenn’s off doing farm chores with Jimmy, so he’s being kept busy and won’t be a concern. As for you, you’ve got your sleepy chick and are content to stay here on the log. You ate lunch, yet another peach (you’re up to six), just finished the leftover raspberries, and are now washing it all down with some fresh mint tea you made in honor of one of your best friends. She’d make her own mint tea and would call it ‘wild mint’ tea because it sounded exotic.

When Dale mentioned today’s date, you realized it was her birthday. She was the most confident girl you’d ever met, and a sweetheart to boot. You really hope she’s alive.

Andrea chuckles to herself. “I gave him that terrible book to keep him occupied.”

Book?? “A book?”

“I brought him The Case of the Missing Man,” she shares with a grin. “He can join the survivor’s club of those who’ve read it — Y/N, is something wrong?”

“Oh, um, nah, it’s all good, uh,” you are fumbling so hard right now. Cool, you’re feeling lightheaded again, cool cool.

It’s all cool. There’s no fire. Stay chill. “I’m gonna pop over and make sure he ain’t cracked into it yet, he’s, it’s, it’s not safe yet. C-Concussion and all.” Listen to you, smooth like butter.

“Oh shit.”

“Andy, don’t sweat. Even if he did start on it, like,” and you pause, because, “I don’t actually know what can go wrong, I didn’t ask Miss Patricia, but I’m sure it ain’t nothing serious!” You cup the (awoken and now loudly peeping) chick between your hands as you book it (pun intended?) to Daryl’s tent.

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

Him

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

For Y/N to glide over wearing a pretty dress, hair all fancy, and holding some little bird was not something he put on his bingo sheet.

“Hiya, Daryl.”

It takes him a second. “Hey.” Never seen her in a dress, is all. And with that little bird, he gets the image in his head of her bursting into song and the farm animals and forest critters doing a musical number with her.

He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...

“I hope you’re enjoyin’ your new freedom! Mi—”

“—Who’s the little guy?” he had to ask first.

“It's a chick.”

Clearly. “Why?”

“It’s cute.”

She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”

“Yeah, it's adorable!”

He begins to get up, but she steps over faster than he can stand. She kneels beside his cot and, delicately, transfers the wrapped chick into his hands. He carefully unwraps the washcloth around it and slips his hand underneath it so sits on his palm with its teeny legs dangling through his fingers. It’s peeping like it’s getting paid for it, holy shit it’s so fucking cute.

“I came here wonderin’ if I might I borrow the, uh, the book Andrea just lent you?”

Ha, called it! The second Y/N found out he had contraband, she came to the rescue.

The chick quiets down, appearing to relax in his hand.

Maybe it’s because he’s in a good mood, but he smiles like a dipshit for a few moments before saying anything. “Nah, I wouldn’t dream of checking it out ’til you said it was fine.”

“Oh ha-ha,” she play-mocks, assuming he wasn’t being serious.

Eh, okay, maybe he was sorta razzing her, too. But he wants to come out on the other side of this whole concussion bullshit on the up, and if reading is still off-limits, it’s still off limits. He’s not gonna full-on disregard somebody who gives a shit.

“How’d ya end up dressed like that?” is his second question while he pets the chick lightly along its head with the feathers on his bolt.

“I wear this, like, all the time.”

“Oh right, yeah, you do,” he sarcastically responds. He tries to reach with his left arm to pick up the book under his cot, but gets a sharp twinge and surrenders that he can’t do that move yet.

Y/N snorts at the sarcasm and tells him straight, “The Greenes had some giveaways, so Beth gave me this outfit. Oh, thank you,” she says when he instead points in the direction of the book. She picks it up and hugs it to herself. “I do believe Carol put a few things aside for you to try on, too.”

“’Kay.”

Y/N looks pretty.

It’s nothing new, obviously her face is nice, but it's the whole blushing things that's annoying. Seems he's started blushing like a belle over all the damn women in camp these days. That really was some smack to the head he got.

He’s imagining himself as being back onstage again, forgetting his lines. He can ad-lib. “How you gonna search in that?”

“Ain’t like my ankles are tied together. Women have always been able to move, play, do manual labor of all sorts in dresses, corsets, stays, stockin’s, you name it,” she serves back with just enough fire that his belly did one of those good flippy-floppys. “That reminds me, Nervous Nelly came back! Did any of us tell you? She’s fine as can be, I fed her half a peach yesterday!”

Some of them baby hairs around her face are coming out of the braids. Her skin's got a sheen to it. And did she put pink stuff on her cheeks or something? Or is that because she was moving around a lot and it’s gotten warm out? Because her lips don’t look like there’s nothing on them but they’re nice and —

“—Dare, you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

“You must be.” Why is she frowning? “You looked like you’d just got hypnotized or — you sure you feel normal?”

“M’fine, I just spaced out.”

She’s gonna have him do a thing, isn’t she? “Follow my finger for a little, please?” Ah-ha, see?

Pointer finger extended, he goes along with it for the 10 or so seconds it takes for the slight crease between her eyebrows to relax.

“Please stick out your tongue for me?” is her next request and, uh, why?

Well, he goes ahead and does it for her anyway. The hook ’em horns he makes at the same time are a sure sign he’s in a good-ass mood.

Y/N lets herself smile, then elaborates: “If it came out tilted, it’s a sign of stroke.”

Stroke? That’s a little much.“C’mon, you’re worried I had a stroke?”

She nods once. Her chest expands big as if she were inhaling really deep. “A smoker, extended bed rest, head trauma,” she quietly counts.

Is he hearing things, or does her breathing sound a little too fast?

“Can you point your toes three times?”

He point his toes three times, and yes, her breathing is a little too fast.

“Now please lift both arms parallel to the bed.”

He lifts both arms. The baby chicken is sleeping now and doesn’t wake with the motion.

“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.

“Tell me you’re not stressing out about nothin’.”

She blinks a few times and deadpans, “I would never.”

“Here,” he holds the chick near her face. “Get zen like this pipsqueak.”

“But you ain’t ‘nothing’ and you are at an elevated stroke risk.”

He’s only got the one word for her: “Zen.” The hovering motion he made with the chick was a fun touch, the little thing didn’t even mind.

Her expression suggests she’s trying to not smile, and, in a move he doesn’t anticipate, she leans forward to rub her nose on its beak. Her lips brush against his fingertips when she does and his train of thought derails.

Next thing, her hands are overlapping his as she gently takes the chick back and re-wraps it in the washcloth. “’Lil buddy you’re fine, you’re fine,” she coos. “I’ll grab you the hand sanitizer and leave you to some peace, alright man?” she addresses to Daryl, who's still a little distracted, so a grunt and a chin tilt is how he acknowledges this.

Merle would be laughing his ass off right now, goddamn. ‘Sweet lil virgin Darylina’ sounds about what he’d be cackling about.

Y/N flips open the cap with her thumb and squirts the hand stuff onto his palm. Smells like lemons.

So, he didn’t have that stuff before, meaning she’d likely been the one to put it in there when she’d cleaned his tent with Carol. “Hey, um, thanks for the surprise.” Damn, he’s awkward. Smells way better in here.”

“Carol is so wanting to help you in any way she can. I was in it just to see you end up with that pretty floral pillowcase. I had to stop her from hangin' the matching curtains,” she snickers, then waves him goodbye and, boom, leaves.

So…how long until his heartbeat and head stop racing?

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

You

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

Yet another stage performance today. You had to act like you weren’t distracted by how boyishly charming Daryl looked lounging there with his shirt unbuttoned to his hecking waist, good Moses. Then the way he snuggled the chick, how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? He noticed your panicking and was all soothing and shit? Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.

Still, you think you were convincing. Oscar-worthy. Golden Globe. Emmy. Tony. Somebody hook you up with your EGOT.

Oh, and that little jab at his new pillowcase, aw yes, that was top tier friendzoning! Or — oh, it wasn’t interpreted as flirting, right? No way did you intend that! And hold up, no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.

You've earned a B- so far at being chill, you've got to get that grade up.

So, you are going to go pick fruit, alone, and you’re going to stuff your face because the show is over, you’re off stage for the rest of the day!

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

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

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 ; @oceanticspace​​​​ ; @whistlesalot ; @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer ;  @dreamingaboutthewonderland ; @kwazii-kat ; @darylsmavis ; @outlanderhornet22 ; @battinsonrobs ; @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable ; @writingmybeloved ; @boomergirl123 ; @iheartathena0 ; @moonliight-luv ; @suniloli ; @supernaturalgirl02 ; @cnake-garden ; @daryldixmedown ; @sophehe ; @crashlyrose ; @virgo-sunflower920 ; @jennythe ; @theficbaker ; @vampireautism ; @rosetta196 ; @wifeof-barnes ; @thegemthatreads ; @redjaylee ; @thegirlwiththepurpleshelves

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

[do-you-know-this-queer-character]

Updates, Apologies, and Moving Forward!

Hello everyone! I am not dead, and this blog is not dead. I know I've been gone for a very long time again, and I'm very sorry.

I had to say goodbye to my cat, my emotional support animal, my baby. I won't say too much here, but she was suffering, and unfortunately there was nothing that could be done. My mental health is fragile at the best of times, and while I am okay and safe, it has been a difficult few months for me. I am also a full-time college student with a job, so all of my free hours were spent in grief. It's taken me a while to feel alright enough to come back, but here I am. I'm still passionate about queer representation in media, and I want to continue to share queer characters with the tumblr community. Starting tomorrow, I will resume the 8 times a day posting schedule that I was starting to utilize before my disappearance, as queueing posts makes my life much easier. I'm sorry if I don't respond to notes or asks left during my break. It's a lot to sort through and I value community engagement on this blog more than anything but I am just one person and I can only do so much. Feel free to re-send asks! Going forward, I'll be making a few changes. I am working on a publicly available google sheet of all characters that have been posted on this blog with results that I will link in a visible place so that people wanting to submit a character can (hopefully) quickly search to make sure that character hasn't been posted yet. I also will eventually be looking for another mod, although that will not be until the summer and I will make more posts when the time comes. I will personally be awol for the last few weeks of may and the first few weeks of june due to a job opportunity out of the country, but I am intending to have queued posts continuing to upload at the regular schedule during that time. Unfortunately this means I won't be able to edit mistakes or answer questions, but hopefully any issues can be addressed when I return. Thank you all for your patience, I'm sorry that this radio silence has gone on for so long, but I've thought about this blog a lot during my absence and I'm certain that it's not a project I'm giving up on any time soon.

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

sorry if it seems i've been tumblr awol a few days, please know that i pack all my orders by hand and I've cleared over 200 orders in the last three days

i feel like the emotional equivalent of the baby dented meme

[nukanobody]

Funny Familiarity

For context: I posted a head-canon a few days ago, on how Danse actually ended up in the brotherhood of steel as a synth despite not being sent as a spy but instead is listed as "missing". It's probable he ran away from the institute where the railroad helped him escape, with Deacon knowing about the case.

I'm so obsessed with this idea now so read below for any thoughts or further hc's i had when making this. Or ask me anything about this hc i am going cray cray. sorry if this is ooc i'm bad at characters.

ty to @ericadrawsstuff for your addon btw!! it fueled me to draw this haha

For Danse, I don't believe he was a courser but maybe a failed experimental synth/synth meant for manual labor? The institute would probably be in a panic if a courser with a courser chip went awol, they'd probably take notice if the same missing courser became the poster boy of the people whose trying to destroy them.

Danse stayed in the railroad for a bit, like maybe 5 months? Formed a somewhat close bond with Deacon who was "Debbie" at the time.

Deacon loves collecting sunglasses, was toying with the idea of being a woman when he found novelty heart sunglasses. I see him as identifying as male but really flexible when it comes to presenting himself.

Obsessed with the idea that despite being reset/memories wiped synths may carry flaws or mannerisms. In Danse's case his fierce loyalty and self sacrifice are his major flaws, pre-wipe he didn't want to be a danger to the railroad and felt he needed to be wiped, post-blind betrayal he felt like he was a danger to the brotherhood and needed to be killed.

Deacon's a good liar sometimes, but in the cases where Danse says something against synths his hands clench and has to lean on a wall to catch his breath while the sides of him fight in his head. The first side is the railroad agent who has huge empathy for M7-97 and knows that if his identity is revealed it'll absolutely ruin him and get maimed by the brotherhood, the other side of him is absolutely disgusted by Danse and wants to put him in his place, the 3rd just thinks it'll be funny.

I depicted Nora as how I'd imagine she'd be. A woman from a pre-war era being dropped in a wasteland, it's kind of a culture shock for her and she has a savior complex, she assumes that everyone just needs to sit down and talk. Her main goal is to somehow "unite" the commonwealth, she's joined all the factions and some of her companions are kind of peeved about it. In the comic she introduced Deacon to Danse thinking they could have a civil conversation where Deacon could steer him to a better mindset (she sees Danse as a kid who got into the wrong crowd, despite being a fully grown man)

okay jesus, this took like 3 days of non stop drawing for me to do. Whoever designed power Armour i pray for your downfall what the hell. Sorry if it looks bad i study software so I haven't gotten the chance to draw in like, 7 months. Can you tell which pose I was able to find refs for and not the rest? lol

I ship them now too, i've been researching them and I love their dynamic and damn if the plot "Person A knew Person B before Person B forgot them and became a different person" doesn't hit like a ton of bricks.

[diazheartsbuckley]

Fuck It Friday ✨

I'm sorry for being AWOL (again lmao) but I've been working on the omegaverse fic literally every day for the past week and you're not gonna believe this, you guys - I DID IT!! I FUCKING FINISHED A FIC FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER 😭

So many of you have tagged me in these last few days and I can't wait to go through all of your amazing works 💕

Prev snippet here

(Story and tags under cut)

In the bedroom, he sits down carefully next to Buck and strokes his lower back gently, a soft sigh of relief escaping Buck’s lips as he feels the warmth of Eddie’s hand on his skin. “You’re in labor” Eddie states, his heart skipping a beat as a fatigued Buck sits up to meet his eyes in the darkened room. Buck swallows harshly, feeling bad for lying again. “Yes” He says and bites down on his lip, chewing on it gently as he places his hand on Eddie’s stubbled cheek. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Eddie’s heart aches in his chest, hating that Buck kept a truth from him once more. But this time, he was more willing to hear the reasoning why. “I didn’t want to take your time with your family away, I wanted you to be able to celebrate Christmas with them and to not worry about me. Besides he’s not supposed to be here for another three weeks and I think that-… that I didn’t say anything because that would make it all a little more real. I’m not ready, Eds. I’m not ready for this” Buck’s words are dripping with sincerity and he even sniffles quietly a few times to calm his racing heart down. Eddie reaches onto the nightstand and turns on the lamp, wanting and needing to look at Buck right now. He cups Buck’s head in his hands, feeling warm tears making their way down the sides of Buck’s face and he lets out a deep breath, one that had seemingly been growing inside of him because the pressure on his chest lessens. “Hey, let’s just get one thing clear, okay?” Eddie begins and tilts Buck’s head carefully, making him look into his eyes. “You are my family, mi amor. You and our son are my family too and I will always, always worry about you. Even if you don’t say it out loud. And I don’t want you to hide something like this just because my family is around. We’re in this together” He says, concern etched deep into his face as he holds eye contact with Buck, not letting him look away. “And I know that he isn’t supposed to be here just yet but we’ll handle it. We’re ready, you are ready, baby. You hear me?” His voice grows a little more firm as Buck averts his gaze and shakes his head, not wanting to hear it. “What if I’m a horrible dad? What if…” Buck wipes his tears away with the back of his hand, all of his unspoken fears bubbling to the surface as another contraction surges through his body, making him wince in pain and surprise. “What if he’s like me, Eddie? What if he’s an omega too? I spent so many years hating who I was because of it, feeling like I wasn’t good enough. What if I’m just as strict as my father and I can’t love him how I’m supposed to?” Buck’s voice breaks at the end of his sentence, insecurities washing over him like a tidal wave, sweeping away all of the confidence that he’s spent years building, with it, leaving nothing but a wreck of a man. “You are not your father, Evan. Just being able to recognize that you don’t want to be like your father is already a step in the right direction. I know that you will never hurt him like your father has hurt you, I know that you will help our son build the confidence and strength to be proud of who he is, no matter what. I know that you already love him and would do anything to see him happy. You are going to an amazing dad, you already are an amazing dad, promising to not be like your own and loving our son so damn much” Eddie’s speech is filled with adoration, love and so much pride in knowing that he’s creating a family with someone like Buck. Someone who loves so unconditionally. Someone who, in the face of adversity, is still able to show others how strong that he is. Someone who’s kind and caring. Someone makes Eddie want to be a better version of himself. That’s the man that Eddie knows that he’ll love for the rest of his life.

Tagged by @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck and @diazsdimples for FIF 🌹

Tagging!! @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @devirnis @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus @evanbegins @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @athenagranted @tizniz @wikiangela @cal-daisies-and-briars @honestlydarkprincess @disasterbuckdiaz @butraura @lover-of-mine 🦋💗

[cherry-bomb-ships]

I'VE BEEN PLAYING SPIDER MAN 2 FOR 3 DAYS STRAIGHT 😳😳😳😳

I accrued like 22 hours on that game in just 3 days (and the first 2 days were definitely 8 hour play sessions each) and totally ignored like every other responsibility I had, including handing the blog over to my f/os! 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry y'all, as the person running F/ovember I should be participating most! 🥺🥺🥺

I'm so happy to see that so many are still enjoying the event or even enjoyed for just a while if you dropped out, and I'll be sending out asks as well as answering them starting later today! Again, sorry for going AWOL these past few days 👉👈 My f/ovember takeover officially starts today!!

[hlxtn]

I AM ALIVE OHMGOD

I FEEL SO HORRIBLE FOR GOING AWOL SO SUDDENLY BUt life really wrecked me over the past few months (it's getting better now so its okay) You can read a part of what happened here

but tldr; my friend fucked me over/scammed me during my most vulnerable period and while trying to get ahold of my personal problems I also had to beg for all my money/stock back from the 'friend'. I've been taking socials one-by-one and tumblr is now next for me to come and answer messages and give updates. I will tackle my inbox in the next two days once I get off from work and can properly focus on giving actual replies. Just wanted to quickly update and say I didn't disappear without a reason and I'm really really sorry about that

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv! I was wondering if you have a rec list already where either Draco or Harry struggle with alcoholism? I have read maybe like one before, but I couldn't find it again. I've been sober for almost 4 years now, but things are super stressful and that makes me stupid sometimes. Idk, it just helps, reading about my favourite pair. Anyways, thank you if you have any that you might wanna rec, and if not, thank you anyways, I really enjoy your blog, I always find some great fics through your recs💞 Hope you have a lovely day!🫶✨

Hi anon! Congrats on being sober for almost 4 years, you’re doing great 💜 I’m sorry things have been hard lately, I hope the recs help. I’m very particular about addition in fic so I haven’t read much or often, but I do have some recs for you. Maybe my followers can share more?

again, for the first time by @aibidil (E, 14k)

Five times Draco lied about why he wasn't drinking, and one time he gave an honest answer. Or, a love letter to sobriety.

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others. HP/DM, with background HP/GW. Themes of alcoholism, love triangles, and dubious fidelity.

Dreaming Darkly by @quicksilvermaid (E, 39k)

It's five years after the war, and Harry is not okay. He hates his job. He hates Robards. He hates Ron's promotions and Hermione's concern. He chases oblivion in booze and weed and quick dirty fucks, but it's never enough.

Take A Chance On Me by @mintawasalreadytaken (E, 41k)

There's a DJ on RareFM with a secret. Or: the one with all the ABBA in it.

Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor (E, 54k)

Harry travels to arctic Norway on the trail of dragon egg poachers, only to find he's been assigned to work alongside the only NorMagPol Auror north of sixty: one Draco Malfoy. It's been ten years since they crossed paths, and Malfoy isn't exactly what Harry expected or remembered. For one thing, he wears a lot more hand-knits?

Lemon Colour, Honey Glow by @thusspoketrish (E, 67k)

Over a series of unfortunate pub nights at the Leaky Cauldron, Draco Malfoy falls in love. A story about finding strength and forgiveness in unlikely places.

Unhook the Stars by jad (E, 70k)

Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words. Guest appearances by Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Teddy Lupin, Gregory Goyle, the Weird Sisters, ex-wives, several Weasleys, a Boggart, and a Honey Badger.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot. But before long he finds himself with a thriving business, a nice flat, some actual (albeit irritatingly Gryffindor) friends, and a very satisfying sex life. What’s more, no-one is hexing him in the street. And Harry Potter is single, and gorgeous, and giving Draco decidedly interested looks.

Another Mask Behind You by lettered (E, 116k)

Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies.

Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship (E, 135k)

Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. He’d stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals.

Number Seven by sara_holmes (M, 253k)

Harry already has small children, an ex-wife, annoying colleagues and an international crime ring to deal with. So when Draco Malfoy reappears after eight years AWOL in France, of course Harry is going to leave him well alone...Right?

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy by @dorthyanndrarry (E, WIP)

Draco lost his home and the only society he knew after the war. He ended up living in the muggle world, making new friends and new connections and maybe some sort of peace. Even if that peace was usually found at the bottom of a bottle. It was enough for him. He was content to just exist. Then Harry Potter decided to ruin everything.

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

Heart Break High : Season 2

I think this season was a bit darker than season 1, even if the end showed growth and acknowledgment.

Amerie was doing her best to be a better person.

What I didn't like was the absence of parents (like in Euphoria).

I was heartbroken when I learned the truth about Rowan's brother.

Also, I would have been great to see a throuple between Amerie, Rowan and Malakai.

Is Timothy Voss supposed to be Spencer's father?

I think that the abortion was none necessary. They have plenty of condoms at this point.

But I think that the magic from season 1 was lost.

Btw is the new generation all queer?

What can we expect after the school burned down? It was definitively a night to remember.

Some quotes :

"- It's up to 68 comments. I'm a monster." (Amerie - Episode 2)

"- You're just an equal opportunity arsehole." (Episode 2)

"- How can you love me if you think I'm that kind of person?" (Amerie - Episode 2)

"- See, you do care. I knew it." (Amerie - Episode 2) - This is just so typical of you. You're making drama out of nothing." (Malakai - Episode 2)

"- Sir, no offense, but what exactly are we doing? (Spencer) - Other than breaking child labor laws. - Are we digging our own graves? I'm not really into that." (Ant - Episode 3)

"- There's like... There's like a code, right? Like, you don't out someone if they're queer? (Malakai) - Oh, you mean the being-a-decent-person code?" (Darren - Episode 3)

"- I don't wanna hurt her. (Malakai) - You can't hide who you are to protect other people." (Darren - Episode 3)

"- I mean, I'm not about to start protesting. (Missy) - Oh, my God. Yeah. Just keep him down there. They can't say anything stupid when their mouth is full." (Sasha - Episode 5)

"- Uh, I think sometimes we cling to a few nice moments with someone and make them bigger than they were. But actually, we've spent the majority of the time forcing something that doesn't fit." (Rowan)

"- I could just tell Malakai wasn't all in. And I deserve someone who is... I think everyone does." (Amerie - Episode 5)

"- Don't turn up at your ex-girlfriend's house asking for tips on how to win back the guy you left her for." (Amerie - Episode 5)

"- You're smart, but in a way that never makes other people feel dumb." (Episode 5)

"- Quinni, I love you. But the world can't always play by your rules." (Darren - Episode 5)

"- I like it 'cause it's a reminder that the most beautiful love stories can sometimes have painful beginnings." (Rowan - Episode 5)

"- But I don't buy any of that shit she was saying. You always have a choice about the kind of man you wanna be." (Missy - Episode 5)

"- Look, I know things have been really, really hard, but you should at least stay and try to sort your shit out. Otherwise, you'll never know if you left 'cause you wanted to, or 'cause you were running away like a little bitch." (Episode 6)

"- I'm looking for my friend Quinni. She's been AWOL for three days. Have you seen her? (Darren) - Sorry, I didn't feel like replying." (Quinni - Episode 6)

"- You've been avoiding me. (Rowan) - No. Just giving you a chance to miss me." (Amerie - Episode 6)

"- I wanna change. (Spencer) - All right, well, it's easy to say, but it actually requires some meaningful action." (Missy - Episode 7)

"- I just wanted to say make this a night to remember, not one to regret." (Zoe - Episode 8)

"- I feel like someone's always gonna be making a sacrifice if they'd be with me." (Harper - Episode 8)

"- There's all kinds of ways to love someone, to be with someone. You don't have to play by other people's rules." (Episode 8)

"- Well, at least I have a heart. Yours is just a piece of dog shit." (Amerie - Episode 8)

"- I wanted you to see how much I do under the surface that no one ever sees. I've been performing who I thought I should be for my entire life. I don't think I know who I am anymore. I'm gonna find out, but I don't wanna lose you in the process." (Quinni - Episode 8)

[aragarna]

I'm back!

Sorry I've been a bit AWOL for the past two weeks. If I've missed anything important, let me know :)

I shall resume my (somewhat) regular posting schedule.

But for now, a meme! tagged by @professorlehnsherr-almashy Thank you!! :)

Favorite Ship: Aziraphale/Crowley

Last Song: I'll Find You In the Dark, by Tony Bruno (From Doc, see below)

Last Film: I flew over the Atlantic a couple weeks ago, so I watched quite a few. None very good. Barbie was honestly quite a disappointment. But right before that, in theater, it was Dune Part 2.

Currently reading: Les Enfants Sont Rois, de Delphine de Vigan. About parents over exploiting their kids for their Youtube channel.

Currently watching: I might have been rewatching my favorite Italian medical show, Doc... (Trailer) Look, he's cute, he's got great hair and the sweetest of smiles. And there's so much great angst in the first few episodes, how not to fall in love with him?

And one day, when I'll have found a way to have enough time to write all the fics in my head, I'll write that POI fic based on that show.

Currently craving: More time off. I reaaaally don't want to go back to work tomorrow.

tagging whoever wants to play :)

[zero00o0]

Quiet pt 4

Cw: mcyt g/t, cursing, fear play, (major) horror elements, (major) character injury, blood, (major) angst, (major?) violence

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3

// OK, I am sorry for disappearing for so long. I should've said something, but to keep it short and simple bad life stuff happened, I had to get more jobs to keep myself up and just didn't have time for social media. Thankfully I'm really close to finishing school now and these past few days I've gotten sick so it gave me time to finally sit down and finish this. I'm not making any guaranteed future promises but I don't plan on staying away forever. At least until I can finish school and get my shit together properly! I'm so so sorry for staying AWOL for months. Please enjoy ^^ I tried to make it more lengthy than I anticipated to make up for the lost time. //

He’s sure that at some point, in his scrambled hyper-energetic mind, he noticed how fidgety and nervous George had been acting while he was in his shop. He’s sure that, even though he wasn’t centered on his clammy hands or sweat-soaked hairline, there was something in him - may that be human instinct or something more profound - that could tell something wasn’t right.

Because if he hadn’t been sure that everything was okay, would he have stopped frantically mopping the juice staining his floor, to make a call that he surely had no business making, because he felt, 'unusual'?

Who knows. Regardless, it was that feeling-driven phone call he made that led him to speak with the county’s entire police force not even half an hour later, regarding the case of a missing vacationer wanted for vandalism and the destruction of private property.

“Like I said, officer; George didn’t steal or threaten my life or anything like that. He just seemed … off. I don’t know how to put it?” Alex struggled to find his words as he shrugged at the big, burly officer towering above him, arms crossed with black shades covering his eyes.

The man hummed and shifted, standing more upright and increasing his height. “Course he seemed off,” he grumbled sternly, “boy just caused a few thousand dollars of damage. He outta be scared. Once we find him he’ll be working for years trying to pay that off.”

The officer glanced over his shoulder towards where his other officers stood around talking by their cars. Then he leaned down slightly, getting closer to Alex's face. "You better not be bullshitting us, Maldonado. I know your history." The clerk clenched his fingers into a fist behind his back. "Officer, I'm not..." he trailed off, frowning nervously. "I'm not trying to imply anything about... 'it'. I didn't even intend to call you, I was just concerned about George. I thought he was sick and called that lady at the resort to connect me to his friends. That's when I realized he was missing and called you to do the 'right thing'." There was an edge to his voice at the final two words. The officer stood back up straight and just nodded. "And it's good you finally have," He said.

"But officer-" Alex was cut off. "Son, I think it'd in yer best interest to stay out of this one. For yours and my station's own sake. Okay? Don't wanna have to take this place away from you, understand?"

Alex bit his tongue and nodded as the cop returned to his car. He disagreed with the man entirely. The officer clearly hadn’t met George in person or had seen him. It didn’t take years of a lasting friendship for the store clerk to know that a little guy like George couldn’t cause damage like that within the span of a few hours. George probably couldn’t do damage like that in a few days.

The sound of car doors shutting pulled Alex away from his thoughts, and he looked over at the source of the sounds. It was Sapnap and Karl, though they didn’t look as cheery nor as rested as they did the last time they met. It was almost intimidating, the manner of the way they approached Alex. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Sapnap looked ready to beat somebody up.

“Hey, guys..” Alex greeted, raising a hand to give a small, awkward wave. Karl gave him a small smile and waved back, but Sapnap didn't bother with greetings as he bluntly said, “tell us what actually happened.” Alex frowned with confusion. “What do you mean? I haven’t lied to the cops about anything,” he said carefully. Karl stepped forward, his tone much more gentle than Sapnap’s as he said, “We don’t think you’ve lied about anything but..” He trailed off, “we think that there are some... elements you may have left out.”

Alex half-scoffed, half-gasped as he just slightly inched backward. “What? What could I have possibly left out? You haven’t even heard my story yet,” he exclaimed. “Then tell it,” Sapnap said, leaning closer to the clerk.

Alex told them everything that had happened from the moment George entered the shop, to him buying the chocolate for Karl, to him leaving in an odd, rushed manner.

“Alex,” Karl began. “I need you to think about everything you just told us. Yes, it was all very off and weird and whatnot.. but was there anything else that struck something in your mind? Something he did that.. maybe you have seen before? Or something you heard that.. maybe you’ve heard on other quiet nights that you try to explain away but.. you know isn’t right?”

Alex bit his cheek as his gaze refused to meet their eyes. “…No.”

“You’ve felt like something’s been off for years now, haven’t you?” Alex looked up at Sapnap with surprise. “That look in your eye, it’s the same as that woman’s.” Sapnap stepped forward and Alex looked away again. “One might think this place is a vacationer's dream, and you see it happen all the time. Happy tourists stopping by, telling you about their sweet, getaway cabins and going on and on, just like us, and you always wanna say something, but you can’t. You think they’ll think you’re crazy, don’t you? But.. you know something’s wrong. You’ve known it since you started working here, but you never admitted it.” Sapnap’s eyes softened for a moment as if he were reflecting his words on an experience of his own.

Alex frowned and turned his back to the Texan. “I’m sorry about your friend, but I don’t know anything.” He spat as he started to leave.

“Alex, please,” Karl cried, grabbing the clerk’s arm. “George is our best friend, he means everything to us, and his fate could be resting on whatever information you can give!” Alex turned to stare at Karl. “Please,” the man pleaded. “Anything.”

The warm hand left Alex’s arm and the clerk sighed. He glanced around a few times before leaning closer to the men. “My grandma told me to never, ever go into the woods alone, especially at night,” he murmured. "As a matter of fact, it was the last thing she told me." Sapnap and Karl glanced at each other.

“And it’s not like I ever wanted to,” he said slowly, his words shaky. “I always felt watched when I went out there.”

…

…

It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep himself from gagging. George turned his head and waved the giant’s hand away. “N-no, thank you,” he managed to say without lurching.

The monster, who’d been trying to offer George a bloody lump of raw flesh from god only knows what pushed the raw meat closer to the human. Using its other hand, it pointed to where its mouth was, trying to explain to George that, This is for you to eat.

George shook his head and finally gagged aloud, getting up from where he sat on the grassy ground to lean over a log, his face green with sickness.

It’s now officially been over a day since the monster - who George prefers to call, 'the giant' now, had kidnapped George from his cabin and taken him throughout the woods of this cabin resort he’d unenthusiastically agreed to go to with his two friends, Sapnap and Karl. For their first hours together, George was dead-set that this giant creature had malicious intentions for him, whether that be eating him alive, torturing him, or doing sadistic experiments. But after it had convinced the human to get chocolate and acted very appreciative and domestic towards him after he did, George wasn’t so sure his initial assumptions were correct.

He coughed a few times as he cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind of the thought of that meat. Behind him, the giant watched with interest and confusion as it took the hunk of bleeding flesh away from George and tossed it into the dark cavern of its own maw. A cold finger brushed up against George’s back, doing its best to rub up and down gently, soothingly. It would’ve felt nice if the giant had any body warmth at all.

The more time George spent with this creature, the more curious it was. Though it had a humanoid body, it lacked key details that, as result, made it very inhuman, like a normal mouth or a normal shade of skin. The tar-black color of its body reminded George of the blackness of looking down at a deep well during the night. It was spooky, yes, but very interesting. Things like these set it very clearly apart from people, but it had so many human-like qualities, that discrediting it as a homosapien all together felt wrong. Besides obvious physical similarities, it also displayed human-like intelligence as well as some sort of emotional intelligence. It had to understand emotion to some extent; if it didn’t, it wouldn’t be mocking a back-rub to George right now to calm him down.

George shrugged the finger away, rubbing his hands up and down his forearms to prevent himself from trembling; partly due to the cold and partly due to the intimidation of something of that size being anywhere near you, let alone touching you. Sure, it’s been over 24 hours now spent with the giant, but most of the time had been asleep and or shitting himself in fear. If he had to guess it’s only been an hour or so since he went to the shop. Just because it was showing George domesticity, didn’t mean he was in favor of showing it back. Quite the contrary. He wanted to go home.

He missed his friends.

The giant, who appeared to have grown bored of sitting around and staring at George, suddenly moved to grab the human and lift him, standing a bit too fast for George’s liking as the human hurried to grab onto its thumb for support. Yet again it was walking with purpose in a random direction, and yet again George was forced to tag along for the ride. Although this time George didn’t want to sit in silence.

He knew it couldn’t understand him, but he needed to hear someone’s voice right now, even if it was just his own.

“I hope you’re going somewhere that has food,” George said aloud, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I don’t know how long you can go without eating but I can’t last that long.” He heard a guttural grumble answer him from within the chest behind him. George sighed, “Maybe I should’ve smuggled one of those chocolate bars for myself,” he said airily, longingly. George sat up straighter. “You probably would’ve smelled it out, though. Wouldn’t you’ve?” He asked, glancing up where its head loomed just a few feet from where he sat. It didn’t answer this time. It was just enjoying listening to its human speak gibberish, George figured. “Where are we going, anyway?”

…

…

“When I was younger, I decided to come live with my grandma and work in her shop; this shop.”

Sapnap focused his sharp gaze on Alex, who was zoned out as he began his account of this place. Though he couldn’t see him, he could also tell that Karl was listening closely as well. (He definitely had that cute, scrunchy face he always made when he focused, Sapnap thought in the back of his mind.)

“I was about 17 when I made that decision,” Alex explained. “Well, the truth is I wanted to come here because I knew grandma couldn’t work much longer, and I wanted to make some easy money. This actually pays pretty well. You know, in one month I make-“ Sapnap cut him off, “Focus.” Alex gave him an apologetic look before continuing,

“Well.. it was after she died, and I inherited the business, that I started noticing weird things. Like, paranormal weirdness.” He rubbed his hands together as he thought for a moment. “But not the kind of paranormal like ghosts.. paranormal like… massive shadows appearing and disappearing faster than you can blink, a loud bird-filled forest becoming suddenly quiet, and.. people.. people going into those woods and never coming out."

Sapnap’s eyes widened. “People? As in… more than one?? Why haven’t we heard anything about other people!?” Alex frowned. “The cops used to try and investigate these cases. But after case after case… person after person, and nothing showing up? They gave up and dusted any new disturbance under the rug. The town has decided that these 'missing persons' are just people doing criminal shit in the woods and then 'disappearing.' The story's different depending on who you ask. The cops tell you that it's a human trafficking ring, while the politicians swear there's a drug empire somewhere out there, all while everyone in town thinks that people go out there to kill themselves in the abandoned lake. There haven't been enough people to come back out of the woods to confirm any of this, so every word is just lost in the whirlwind of conspiracies. The only reason your friend is getting any attention at all is because of the property damage.”

...

...

This place was untouched by man. Even though he was stories up in the air, George could tell that there wasn't even a single plastic wrapper to be found. It was lovely, of course, but... in a way... kind of offsetting. Litter was bad, obviously, but seeing litter was a telltale sign that humans had been present there at some point in time. So, seeing none now confirmed to George that he truly was alone out here. No one else would see him in the palm of this creature, and no one could call for help.

"You, uh, you keep it nice and clean around these parts, hm?" He said out loud. Of course, the giant didn't answer, but that didn't surprise him. Honestly, he'd be more surprised if it did answer. , 'Why yes, I do keep it quite clean around here, thanks for noticing!' George couldn't stifle an amused snicker at the thought of a British giant. How amazing would having tea with a giant with a British accent be?

A clicking sound from behind him took him away from his thoughts. "Yes?" George said in response. The giant looked down at him, its green gaze shimmered at him with excitement as it pointed ahead of them. George followed its pointed finger and gasped. They were standing right before a huge lake. It had to be the most beautiful body of water George had ever seen, shimmering water so clean you could almost see to the bottom. Fish splashed on the surface, and just a little ways away he could see some deer stopping by for a drink. Disney WISHES they could capture such beauty. This scene was the epitome of nature, no doubt.

"Oh my..." He gasped, fighting to find words to fit how he felt. He looked back up at the giant. It was looking down at George with a gleam in its gaze. It looked proud to show George this place. 'Look, look at what I have that no human has! Are you impressed?' And George would've said, "Yes! I'm impressed. This is amazing!"

"You're telling me that no one else is here? Why isn't the resort capitalizing on this?! It's amazing! I'm not even an outside guy and I would pay to come out here! You can't tell me that nobody else knows about this place!" George beamed, antsy to get down so he could see it up close.  But instead of letting him down, the giant held onto George's tiny body as it walked forward, stepping into the water.

…

…

“You said that some people come out..” Karl’s voice made an appearance suddenly. "... so there are people who come out alive?”

“Yes,” Alex mumbled. “Well, no… I mean- My grandma. She’s- She was the only one." Sapnap cocked a brow. "You're telling me that your grandma - and I don't mean to be rude, but - your elderly grandmother went into those woods, encountered the…” He glanced at Karl in brief hesitation. “...whatever’s out there... and came back alive to tell the story, while no one else has gone in and made it out?" The Texan questioned. “I’m sorry but it sounds made up.” There was an odd tone of hopefulness in Sapnap’s words. A hope that, maybe, the giant wasn’t real. That the lady really was just crazy, and he hadn’t really seen green eyes watching from the trees their first day there.

The clerk bit his nails as his frown deepened in response to Sapnap's words. That sentence resonated with the clerk on a deeper level than the two boys currently understood.

Alex sighed, deep and long. "That's exactly what I told her up to the day she died," he said dryly. "Me and my entire family. It.." his voice ached with hurt, "it was like a family bonding activity to ridicule and make fun of her. Like belittling this little old lady made us superior. It always hurt her feelings, and we knew it."

…

…

George grasped onto the giant's fingers as they went deeper and deeper into the lake. The lake only reached the giant's waist, but that didn't seem to upset it at all as it bent down until its shoulders were submerged as well. It let go of George and let him gently float in the water. It kept its eyes fixed on the tiny human as he swam around, enjoying the warm water.

Geroge laughed as he held his breath and went under the water. All around them were fish swimming, surely confused about why there was suddenly a ginormous black mass in the center of their home. The gentle rays of sunshine illuminated the space nicely and presented a gorgeous scene for the human to behold.

He resurfaced seconds later and gasped for air. George was never the best at holding his breath. Last he checked he could hold it for about 25 seconds before he started struggling.

…

…

Karl raised his hand for a moment but put it back down. Seemingly deciding against his initial thought, which Sapnap assumed was to comfort Alex. "Hey," he said softly. "You don't have to go into so much detail if it's too much... we just need to know what's out there, and how she made it back out alive." Alex furrowed his brows and tightened his lips into a thin line. Then, the clerk shook his head slowly. "Karl. I-I…I… I swore I would never talk about it again.” He sharply inhaled a breath of air. “I'm sorry... you guys are cool and I wanna help but..." Alex clasped his hands together and blinked a few times like he was composing himself.

"I... want to help you, tell you what I know, but if those pigs down at the station heard that I was talking about 'it' again, they'd take the shop away from me. They already threatened me earlier." The clerk turned away sharply, his posture suddenly tense. "That's all I have left."

He began to walk away.

But he didn't get far.

Alex gasped in surprise as he was suddenly whipped around and facing Sapnap. He didn't have much time to look at his face before he was hit on the side of the head and staggering to the side, disoriented. Before Alex could stabilize himself, the boy grabbed the clerk by the collar of his shirt and lifted him with adrenaline-driven strength. "Now listen here you pussy," he hissed with venom. "Stop thinking about your own damn self and think about someone else for once!" He shook him a few times, Alex's head lolling back and forth violently. "George is my best fucking friend! He’s all WE have. And whatever you know about your grandma surviving could literally determine if he comes out alive or dead. You've sat by and watched all these other people, just like us, come into the resort and NEVER come back home because you were only concerned for YOURSELF! This is your chance to do the right thing for ONCE and save a goddamn life! What would your grandma say if she knew you were too scared to do anything to help these poor people?!?! What is WRONG WITH YOU??"

"SAPNAP quit that," Karl hissed, pulling his friend backward and away from the clerk, causing Sapnap to let go of his shirt. Once released, Alex fell to the floor with a dull thud, he was whimpering and sniffling, snot and tears running down his face. "Ridiculing him isn't going to help us, you idiot!" Karl snapped.

…

…

He looked up at the giant. It was just sitting there watching him carefully, content with just observing George's behavior. The human smirked at the giant, gaining a newfound feeling of confidence. "Well, c'mon! Are you just gonna sit there?" It blinked at him. Blank. Unreadable. George laughed as he used his entire arm to splash its chin. It leaned back, surprised by the action. George smiled endearingly at it. It could be so cute when it wasn't a potential threat to your life.

The giant lifted its arm and used it to gently stir the water a bit, making a mini water tornado. George yelped as he was pulled with it, though he quickly composed himself and started laughing. This seemed to spur the giant on, giving it confidence. It cooed at him as it stirred faster, clicking in a manner that reminded him of laughter. George tried to swim against the pull of the water, but as the giant's enthusiasm increased so did the speed of the water. George's laughter turned awkward, and a bit nervous as he was swept with the spinning waves against his will. 

…

…

Alex sniffed and shuddered as he got back onto his feet. He was cowering away from the two now, his face an entourage of emotions, most of which seemed to be old and resurfacing from the protective shadow of his mind. Delirium, guilt, shame, fear. If the man had lost any more stability in the moment, there was no doubt in Sapnap's mind that he would've been screaming right now.

"If I w-would tell you, if I-I warn you about the demon in the woods, about the-the missing bodies, the screams I sometimes hear at night, would you believe me?! Would you REALLY have believed me earlier??" His voice shuddered and cracked with a growing weakness. "I've tried so many times," Alex whispered, "I've tried to warn people, I've tried to explain, to get SOMEBODY to believe me!!" He wiped the snot off of his face. "Eventually I just stopped trying. The cops told me I was inflicting terror onto, and harassing my customers." He bit his bottom lip so hard Sapnap was surprised no blood trickled down his chin. "Sometimes people come and leave without a problem.. so I just started to have wishful thinking. Maybe it's all my fault.. for not being convincing enough. For not following my gut instinct and stopping George before he could run back out there..."

…

…

The giant didn't seem to notice the human's change in behavior, though. It just made excited noises as it added its other arm into the mix, spinning George around like he was a pool toy. Nervousness turned to panic when George was caught in the waves with no way of escaping. He was losing strength and was becoming weaker and weaker as he was rag-dolled around in the water, unable to prevent himself from going under just to spin right back to the surface. "Wai- Wait," he cried, but his voice was muffled by the water. He could barely see it, but when he surfaced once again, he caught a glimpse of the wide, empty, sadistic glee in the giant's gaze as it toyed with the human, the being that had no power over it, that it could bend to its will and play with like he was nothing but a toy.

And then George went under.

The rays of sunlight illuminating the lake were gone.

And it was dark.

...

...

"Alex," Karl's voice was a nice calming interruption to Alex's stress and Sapnaps anger. Like a mourning dove sounding over a storm's wind. "We may not have believed you before, but we are here listening to you now and we do believe you. Maybe there is still hope. So please, just tell us what you know."

Alex choked out a whimper as his head fell, his hair falling over his eyes as he tried to calm himself. He sounded defeated.

"I don't know exactly what it is, but I do know that it's big. Really big. Big enough to cast down enormous shadows and tear apart two-story cabins. It has two arms and two legs. It's fast and deathly quiet. Though I’ve never seen them yet, my grandma always said... ‘You don't know it's there until you see its eyes,

And you don't see its green eyes unless it wants you to know that you've been found’."

Karl gasped and Sapnap grabbed his head in panic. Alex blinked in surprise at their unexpected reactions. “Wha-?”

“The old lady,” Karl explained frantically, “the one who you called at the resort. She told us that her wife was killed by a giant green-eyed monster. We believed her but-" “But to hear someone else say it,” Sapnap’s shaky voice interrupted. “To hear someone else say it just… makes it more real.”

For a heartbeat, they were all quiet. Each and everyone one of them was just beginning to truly feel, to truly realize the realness of all this. As if they'd been holding onto a logical blanket of comfort that told them, ‘Monsters aren’t real.’ Now their eyes were forcibly open. There were monsters.

Monsters are real.

Monsters are real, and it took George. It took tons of people like George. Stalked them, hunted them down, and took it for itself.

“Alex, you have to tell us how your grandma escaped.” Sapnap’s voice was as sudden as it was frantic. Once again his hands were clasped around the shirt collar of the store clerk as his pleading eyes stared into Alex’s very soul. “Please, please! Right now! We have to get going and find him before it’s too late!”

Alex clenched his teeth as he held onto Sapnap’s wrists. “The monster’s eyes!” The clerk trembled. “Its eyes are its biggest advantage and biggest weakness. It can’t catch you if it can’t see you. That night when she went in the back to put out the trash and saw them- she threw a can of cola at it and burned its eyes long enough to escape! It never messed with her again.”

The two boys nodded. “Ok,” Karl said. “We have to blind it. But- how and-and where are we even gonna find it, Sapnap??”

Sapnap didn’t answer as he grabbed Karl’s hand and ran back to the car, leaving Alex alone as he watched the two drive back towards their cabin.

Right back towards the heart of the woods.

...

...

A cold shock pulsed through his body, his heart jumped and he let out a half-gasp, half-scream as he jerked violently, his eyes wide open yet unfocused.

The last thing he remembered was being pulled into the dark abyss of water stirring around him violently, confident that it would be the last sensation he'd ever feel.

And yet... here he was. Breathing, albeit with some struggle.

George sat up and leaned over, coughing and choking as he spat out the water that filled his lungs, desperate to get a clear, uninterrupted breath.

After a few minutes of heaving, gagging, and sputtering the Brit was finally able to get a grip on himself and his surroundings. But he couldn’t say he was pleased with the first thing he saw once he looked around.

The giant - the monster - was there, sitting a few yards away from the boy. Its hand was closer to George than its body was, which indicated to him that it had definitely been the source of the cold shock that woke him up. It looked conflicted- surprised. Like it hadn’t expected George to start back to life. Iits haunting green gaze domineering over all other aspects of it, seizing George’s attention. In a way, it almost looked relieved.

But George didn’t care what the giant felt right now, it just tried to kill him. 

His heart raced and his hands began to tremble as he found that he was once again struggling to breathe. He forced his eyes to peel away from the glowing green orbs and to his surroundings. He needed to run. He needed to get away. This… thing… was unstable. It had tricked him into trusting it, and what a fool he had been to feel comfortable around the monster that terrorized him for an entire night- no- that terrorized him since he got here. This thing had been hunting him since he got here! It made him lose his mind, lose his sanity, and make him think he was going insane.

They were back in the monster’s burrow. It looked like he was deeper inside now. He whipped his head around, studying the walls, moss, bramble, and all the different things that were growing inside. Wait, he wasn’t deeper inside. The burrow didn’t go any deeper. His breath came in short gasps as he tried to figure out why he felt different. Why were the surroundings off? 

The giant made a move and George screamed, scrambling backward and looking for anything to hold onto for purchase. The giant froze as George moved away from it. It was making sounds reminiscent of the comforting rumbling it had been making hours ago when it saved him from the bobcat, but the Brit could barely hear it over the sound of his heart racing, causing blood to pump through his veins powerfully. 

He didn’t stop trying to move away until he felt his hand come down on something hollow, breaking it and causing George to fall on his back. He winced in pain as his neck hit something hard and sharp, making his head spin. George was still holding onto the thing his hand had broken as he forced himself to sit upright, his vision spinning and out of focus. He lifted his hand to shake the thing off, but as he looked down, the only thing he could do was scream.

His hand had broken through a worn-down human skull. And as he turned to look around at where he was sitting, he realized that he had fallen right onto a spine. 

His head was spinning, his eyes were unfocused, and his heart threatened to send him into cardiac arrest. He frantically looked around. There were more. Skulls, spines, arms, legs, piles piles PILES. He was sitting in piles of human remains. Dead bodies. People who went into these woods and NEVER came back out. People who saw the monster, and never lived to tell the tale. Dead. Gone. Thrown into a hole and forgotten about forever. Killed. MURDERED.

Cold fingers wrapped around his arms as he violently thrashed, kicking, screaming, biting. He was acting like a feral animal. He was hysterical. George didn’t know what he was doing anymore. It was inaccurate to say that George was even conscious at the moment.

This was nothing but primal human terror fighting to stay alive.

He saw another black hand reach under him and wipe dirt over the exposed graveyard of discarded bodies, covering it up. The hand seemed to shake as well. It had been caught, of course, it was nervous. 

Before the monster had a chance to lift him up any higher George managed to reach a hand onto the ground and grab a fistful of dirt. As he was lifted towards its face, he hurled the dry dirt at its eyes with as much power as he could conjure. 

The monster wailed as the earth hit its exposed pupils. It wailed so loud, so high pitched, George could feel warm blood trickling out of his ears. The pain distracted the monster long enough for George to struggle his way out of its iron fist, fall to the ground, and sprint around, out of the exit.

He didn’t know where he was going. But he knew that his best bet would be the opposite way that he tried before. It had to work. He HAD to find his way back to his friends. He’d run all the way to Florida if he had to. 

He’d do anything just to hear Sapnap’s laugh.

His footsteps pounded on the forest floor, sticks and grass, and leaves were thrown behind him as his powerful steps dug up the ground. The wind felt like thousands of needles pinching his face as he ran through it, his lungs were ice cold with the freezing air. 

He’d do anything just to feel one more hug from Karl.

George cried. He cried for warmth, he cried for rest, he cried for safety, he cried for his friends. He wanted to go home. He wanted this hellish nightmare to be over.

And suddenly the ground was gone. And in its place was concrete. 

George gasped as he fell over trying to abruptly stop. His face hit the hard surface, and he heard a deep crack from his nose, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t even register the pain. A road. A road! The road to the cabin! To Sapnap and Karl! He laughed as he threw himself to his feet and stomped on the concrete with glee. His path home!

Or maybe home would come to him.

…

…

Sapnap drove the car as fast as it could go. It could barely make the sharp turns of the backroad at this speed, but they had to get to the cabin. They had to start somewhere. “Sapnap! Please- please just go a little bit slower!” Karl’s terrified voice shook with fear in the passenger seat as he clutched onto Sapnap’s shoulder. “We’re so close…” Sapnap would mumble back. His eyes were glued to the road before them, his thoughts however were miles away. Back in Florida where nothing was wrong. He should’ve just let George play his stupid games. He should’ve just joined him. He should’ve just-

“SAPNAP STOOOPPP! LOOK OUT!”

Karl’s scream snapped Sapnap back into reality as he realized he was racing right towards somebody walking in the road. “Fuck- Wait!” 

…

…

George heard the roaring of an engine coming up from the road. His heart leaped as he turned to wait for it to come. But as he stood with his hands in the air, screaming for attention, he realized that the car was hurtling down the narrow road. He could hear the tires squeaking, the engine roaring with passion. The sounds make him feel scared all at once. Why would someone be driving so fast back here? Unless they saw something…

The Brit became ultra aware of the silence deafening his ringing ears.

His knees felt weak all at once, and he had to strain to keep himself standing. He looked around, his eyes desperately scanning the edge of the trees for that horrible green color, that all too eerie black shadowy form. That’s when the car came speeding down the road right toward him.

All his life he’d never understood why deers would stand so still while a car came right at them. He always assumed it was because they were animals, and animals were dumb.

But this week he’d realized that to that monster, he was an animal. An animal to be hunted. To be found as a prize. And at this moment, he and a deer weren’t really that different. Were they?

…

…

Deafening ringing filled his ears as Sapnap tried his best to steer the car out of the way, tried to avoid the man in the road, but wasn’t fast enough and still hit half of him. The car came to a screeching halt, all too late, and the men inside were left sitting in a fog of shock.

Red crimson painted the hood.

The body lay limp right on the edge of the road.

The car had stopped right next to a cliff, just feet away from rolling off.

Karl was the first to react. He gasped as if he was holding his breath like he had been drowning in the thick tension of the situation. It was the blonde who was strong enough to get himself out of the car, to walk down the road and toward the body. But it was Sapnap who, after following in pursuit at the sound of Karl’s horrified scream, was strong enough to say the word, “George-”

Karl’s wails became background noise to Sapnap. The Texan didn’t even realize that the blonde had fallen to his hands and knees and crawled over to George’s body and splayed himself over his friend. Hugging him and wailing out for help. The only thing Sapnap could focus on was the horrified look on his friend’s face. Like it was a picture printed right onto George’s face. It didn’t look real. He looked like a wax statue. His fingers ran through his hair as he watched red pour onto the green-turning-yellow grass of mid-autumn. He stared until he couldn’t take it anymore, turning around to look at the murder weapon - the car - with tears spilling from his eyes. It was barely damaged. The only thing wrong was that the trunk had popped open, and the shotgun he had packed had fallen onto the road. It was laying right in a pool of blood. The man trembled, losing balance suddenly as his own sobs threatened to escape his throat. 

What. Had. He. Done.

Karl’s screams suddenly got earsplitting louder. So much louder, that it got Sapnap to turn around. His heart stopped beating as he looked up. Up. Up. Up. Up at those green, hollow, evil eyes that glared with a rage readable by any living thing at them. The shadowy body that the eyes belonged to lurched forwards at paranormal speed with inhumane movements. It came out from the trees’ edge and right towards Karl. The blonde wailed with fright as he moved away slightly, but not far enough. The monster put a giant hand over George’s body, blocking him off from the boys’ sight as it used another to hit Karl away.

If it were the size of a human, the slap would’ve been only just strong enough to send a small object a few inches away, but this monster had the strength of a hundred men, and what a flick of a wrist was to it was powerful enough to send Karl right into a trunk of a tree. A snap echoed until it reached Sapnap’s ears, making the boy cringe. A trembling wail escaped his throat as he watched Karl hit the trunk with awful force. It didn’t appear to kill the blonde, thankfully. But Karl definitely wasn’t getting up any time soon. Sapnap’s gaze traveled from Karl to the monster, who was hunched up into a tight ball and curling its fingers around George’s form. There was water spilling from the thing’s cheeks (tears?) that fell and landed on the ground around the unmoving human, staining the road. 

There were a few long, drawn-out moments that passed where he just watched the thing coo and grumble at his friend, almost like it was trying to get a response out of him, to the monster finally noticing Sapnap watching it.

The boy breathed out a gasp as he tried to back away, trying to find his footing, but he wasn’t fast enough. The green-eyed monster got to its feet and pounced on him first. It stood over him for not even a moment before he felt the force of its foot kicking him towards where that cliff was by their car. He groaned in agonizing pain as the giant force flung his body like a dog toy. He landed awkwardly on his back, his head hanging over the edge of the cliff. At this angle, he could see how far down the fall was. It looked like a fall straight to the gate of hell. Maybe it was a foreshadow for him. His last sight on Earth would be his first sight in his afterlife. Ironic.

Sapnap didn’t have enough time to laugh cruelly at himself before a horrible force was placed on top of him. He yelled in pain as the giant dug its foot into his body, but not so much as to crush him at once. It did it slowly. It added pressure every second. The pressure changed, but its haunting gaze never did. It stared down at Sapnap with a quiet rage. Pure evil. He couldn’t breathe anymore. He could feel his life draining.. draining… draining.

He fucked everything up. He killed his best friends. Maybe he was the real monster.

“You…”

A weak voice made the pressure killing Sapnap stop. He was whimpering, his voice straining as he tried to call for help. Suddenly the monster moved away altogether. Sapnap choked in a breath, coughing hysterically as he sat up frantically looking around. It wasn’t until he followed the giant’s startled gaze that he saw what had been the source of the voice.

…

…

He felt no fear. For once in this whole experience, George felt fearless. Awaking to the sounds of his friends crying in pain because of that fucking monster triggered something deep within him. His legs had to be broken. Maybe even his arm. He was losing blood by the second, and there was no way he could be standing right now by every law of nature, no way he could’ve crawled over to the wrecked car. But here he was, standing upright, staring right at the monster as the monster started right at the eye of the shotgun he was aiming at its face.

Its green eyes sparkled when they saw him. Gleeful that he was alive. They made eye contact only for a moment before it realized what George was holding. It didn’t have enough time to react, to move, to do anything at all.

Fuck this monster.

“Go to hell.”

One shot rang and not even a moment later the monster was wailing as it clutched a cold, dark hand over its bleeding eyeball. It screamed and cried with sounds George had never heard it make before. It staggered with imbalance as it fought for purchase on something it could grab- but there was nothing around for it to take as it tripped and descended right off of the cliff's edge.

Relief washed over him as he finally succumbed to his injuries and fell to the ground. Not even a moment later did he feel hands supporting him, lifting him up. “George! George! Oh my god! Holy- I- George you’re alive!” It was muffled by his ears, but he knew it was Sapnap. After a minute he could feel another pair of arms wrap around him. Somehow Karl had managed to drag himself over to the two, as they all embraced with relief and joy. 

George frowned as he held onto his friends tighter. He didn’t want to, but he thought about the monster. Why did it take him? Why did it treat him so nicely, only to try and drown him? George let tears wash over his red cheeks as he sobbed. Maybe it didn’t mean to drown him. It was trying to play- trying to make George happy. It wanted to make the old lady and her wife happy. It left gifts, it played pranks. But it got too enthusiastic and killed her. The monster was shunned and was left to be alone again.

George looked at Sapnap and Karl as they lay on the side of the road, not speaking quite yet but just taking in each other’s presence. He loved being around them, loved it more than even talking to them.

And he realized that that’s what it wanted. It wanted a presence to be around. Company. A nice warm body to hug when you felt lonely, someone to go to when you need something. Someone to have fun with. 

But it wasn’t human. It was too big. It never realized its own strength. Never meant to have casualties. In a sense it was careless. It was greedy. Going back for more people despite knowing it couldn’t contain itself.

But George couldn’t help from feeling sympathetic. Because all that time away from his friends made him realize how much he missed them.

All it wanted was a friend.

[anika-ann]

Cookies and Spark(le)s - sneak peek

aka small prequel to Love on the Brain is in making 😇

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (Agent Jones) WC: 450 Warnings: fluff, gun violence mention

He was just slipping into the sleeves on his hoodie, catching a glimpse of Rollins patting Agent Finnegan on his back as they were leaving, when he heard your voice, instantly attracting his attention despite the slightly awkward note to it.  

“Captain Rogers? Can I have a second?”

A brief smile passing over your lips made the corners of his own rise higher on instinct. Your hair was messy, some sticking to your forehead, some flying around as you had had to just pull a hoodie over your head, your stance speaking of both determination and hesitance.

“Sure,” he said, gaze involuntary flickering to the Tupperware box in your hands. “How can I help you, Agent Jones?”

A flicker of surprise caught on your face as if you hadn’t thought he’d remembered your name – a pleasant surprise, Steve hoped. He hardly ever forgot names and faces, a blessing and a curse of his eidetic memory; but he had a feeling that even without his gift, he wouldn’t forgot yours. You stood out – subtly, but firmly, at least to Steve; and it had little to do with the fact he had covered you and probably saved your life on your first mission together just a few days ago.

“I, uhm… I know you probably get this all the time, because… well, because you save someone’s life all the time, but. I wanted to thank you,” you explained, a mixture of emotions difficult to decipher sinking into your voice, embarrassment at the forefront as if you already questioned your decisions.

And you should – there was no reason to thank him further. You expressed your gratitude before, thanking him with shock right at the site of the shooting and then again on the plane when he made rounds, checking on all the agents. You owed him nothing.

But he had to admit you were being rather… cute, looking up at him like that, sure and unsure at the same time, clearly hesitant about how to handle the situation and desperately trying to get a read on his reaction.

So, Steve took a deep breath, gaze flickering all over your face and minding to sound sincere – as he was – when he spoke again.

“You already have,” he pointed out gently.

“I know. But. It’s my life and just saying thank you doesn’t really seem like enough for something of that magnitude so. Here. A bit more of a thank you,” you said, standing your ground as you held out the box. Your smile grew, a little playful note in your voice as you shrugged. “You strike me like more of an apple pie kind of a man, but I don’t think anyone ever gets offended with cookies.”

Busted. You clearly weren’t a former FBI profiler for nothing. His hands twitched as he almost reached for the box, slightly embarrassed himself now.

“That’s really not necessary, Agent Jones.”

...

🍪🍪🍪

I hope I sweetened your day 💕

Sorry I've been AWOL... it won't get much better 🥺 But I'm trying.

[ink-and-dagger]

3 and 4 for the fic writers questions!

Also, hi, Inky 😚 hope you've been good!

HI PAL Yeah sorry I've been awol the past week or so. Life stuff blah blah 🙃

3.) What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Two tropes that you're guaranteed to find in all of my multi-chapter fics are Found Family and Miscommunication. Although I like to think that I add my own twist on the miscommunication trope.

There's also a 99.9% guarantee that there will be a drinking/drunk scene, a dancing scene, and an interrupted kiss in any of my fics 🤭

4.) What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

There are quite a few details in my fics that I'm proud of. But seeing as it's Maestro Coi asking the question I'm going to do the equivalent of flashing my macaroni art to Van Gogh.

In Chapter 16 of my Zutara fic These Tides Do Turn I wrote a whole ass song from scratch. Well, I wrote the lyrics, it doesn't actually have an official tune.

The idea behind it is that it's an old Fire Nation folksong. I was going for a moody Irish sort of vibe, and very much had Oh Danny Boy in my head as inspiration. I always imagine it sounding a bit like Jenny of the Oldstones from GOT. I'll post the lyrics below the cut incase anyone is interested.

Writer ask game

[Context for non-atla fans – fire lilies are a flower that's native to the meadows of the Fire Nation, and they only bloom for a few weeks each year.]

I first met my love, in the fire lily meadow We were only mere children, when she whispered to me Here we’ll spend our life, my love  Amidst the grown-jewel of our land And in your arms I’ll give, my love My heart to the palm of your hand

We shared our first kiss, in the fire lily meadow We were innocent and young, and she whispered to me Here we’ll spend our life, my love Between soft silken petals of red And in your arms I’ll dance, my love On the day we are finally wed

I married my love, in the fire lily meadow  Full of radiant hope, as she whispered to me Here we’ll spend our life, my love Basking bright in the soft ruby glow And in your arms I’ll stay, my love While our home, and our family grow

Our children ran wild, in the fire lily meadow  We watched on with joy, and she whispered to me Here we’ll spend our life, my love Lazing stretched in the morning damp blooms And in your arms I’ll weep, my love When the day of their adulthood looms

Our babes flew swift, from the fire lily meadow  We waved them farewell, then she whispered to me Here we’ll spend our life, my love Fond memories curled safe between stems And in your arms I’ll rest, my love ‘Til our days draw near to their end

Your hand frail in my palm, in the fire lily meadow  We were agéd and wilting, when you whispered to me Here we’ve spent our life, my love  As sure footprints amongst the flowers And in your arms I’ll sleep, my love ‘Til I’m scattered beneath the bowers

I wait old and alone, in the fire lily meadow I smile and remember your whispers to me With you I spent my life, my love Reflected in soft drops of dew Seasons and years together, my love Soon to be reunited with you

Entwined evermore, above the fire lily meadow Ash carried on wind, and whispering free They’re waiting for midsummers eve, my love ‘Neath earth young buds ripen and burn Eternal and endless as us, my love Growing steady as these tides do turn 

[lexa-griffins]

Hi lovely 💕 I'm sorry I've been awol for a few weeks. I've been super busy with life. I've recently been catching up with your blog and I love everything you've been posting especially with Alycia for Saint X. She's so pretty that I can't stop watching all the new photos and videos of her as Emily or promoting the show. I can't wait to read what else you post about her. Your tags are always the best part of my day whenever new Alycia content shows up 💕

Hello my lovely anon 💕

No need to apologize at all! How have you been?? :D

This past week was /intense/ with content, we havent eaten this good in YEARS!!! Did you see the gif of Emily walking away in her too big for her shirt tho? 👀 i think it should be mandatory to grace yourself with the opportunity to look at it at least once! Also that freaking white dress will be the death of me (and daddy clarke... more on that later 😏).

Aw thank you 🥰🥰 youre always too sweet 💕💕 hope everything going good for you :DDDDDDD

[rebelelegance]

Hey guys

A little update.

Sorry for being AWOL. Got only a few days off before I get promoted and I'm terrified....scared....and busy lol.

One's things get back into the normal swing, I swear I'll be back.

Got a bunch of work lined up too.

I'm absolutely grateful for the responses I've been getting. The reblog notes, the anons...I love 'em all.

Thank you all so much.

I promise, I'll be back soon.

Very soon