#there's too many rules when my body is just trying to keep me alive

[divinechieko222]

i don't like that so much of the gym content geared towards women and young girls is focused on building your glutes. it's never advertised as a way to stay active and healthy. it's always about making your body more desirable for others. what is the purpose of having a larger ass and how exactly is it beneficial? what makes a smaller ass less beneficial. it's all aesthetics but who exactly are these aesthetics for? you could say it's for yourself but why is that body shape the one you desire? women's bodies continuously go and out of style, but my question is, is my body for me or is it for the viewing pleasure of others?

[saturnsbabyboii]

✨Astro Observations for those who think they're stupid when they're actually smart✨

✨Mutable risings are the "funny yet depressed" friend that is always trying to make sure everyone is okay and having a good time

✨Out of all the placements Aquarius is the only one I don't have a definitive standpoint on. Not a single one has something in common with another.

✨5th house placements are obsessed with reality tv while 11th house placements are obsessed with internet drama

✨Saturn in the 6th house natives are very likely to get plastic surgery for their weight

✨I keep reading on here that people know Taurus Moons that cook? I am sorry but since when instant noodles became "cooking". I have known five and my sister is one, and let me tell you, they can't cook for shit. They're such picky and particular eaters, they barely eat too.

✨My mother being an Aquarius sun with a Virgo moon means that I know the biggest catastrophizer alive.

✨Luminaries (sun and moon) opposite the rising, in my opinion, creates the most difficult people to deal with. They're so tone deaf and oblivious to how they come off.

✨Cardinal Lilith has conflict anxiety

✨Air Mercury thinks of an answer instead of listening to what someone is saying

✨Mars in the 11th house have many frenemies

✨Moon in the 11th are very popular among women

✨Angular houses (1st, 4th, 7th, 10th) at 0 degrees struggles to achieve milestones or feels behind compared to others

✨Scorpio risings are always referred to as an onion. To me, an onion is something with layers of the same shit that just burn your eyes.

✨ Whichever house of yours an artist's Ceres falls in is what their work is going to help you with.

✨This also applies to planet aspects, as to whether their work will leave you challenged, intrigued, feeling empowered, motivated, seen, connected, or just simply aroused.

✨Fire Mercury says the most random shit. But we are here for that crackhead energy.

✨Fire/Mars in the 9th house is very common among dancers

✨The sign of the 6th house can show how are you with apologies. Since along with that work ethic comes responsibility and integrity.

✨Anyways, you'll never catch a Sag or Taurus in the 6th apologizing that's for sure.

✨Lilith/Juno in the 10th house are very mistreated by men/masculine people and authority

✨Lilith/Juno in the 4th house was betrayed by the family, especially the mother

✨Aquarius in the 4th house is always looking for a mommy in someone else

✨The body part/s the sign of your 8th house rule indicates which sexual act gets your toes curled.

✨Having friends of the same Mars sign are people that match your energy

✨People that have Mars Square Mars got a friendship that needed communication and patience, however, they tend to create a stronger bond

✨It's ghetto out there with all of those unevolved Earth placements

✨First house stelliums are never grateful. The entitlement is real.

✨Neptune/Pisces in the 1st house and 12th house ruler is in the 1st house depersonalize as a full time job. Existing is very draining for them, and at times painful.

Bye.

[pluto-supremacy]

Vi Headcanons: dating f!reader at Stillwater

➼ Yes I am breaking my rule of no f!reader because I wanted to write for Vi so bad. So I'm gonna set a new precedent now: I'll write f!reader IF it is a wlw fic/headcanons/whatever. Though this is more of just a lil treat since the brainrot is rotting

➼ Might end up turning this into a full fic, if you want that let me know! (It did! Here's part two)

➼ No beta we die like Sky

➼ Warnings: None!

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

Whenever there is free time, Vi is at your side. You two usually find some corner away from the others to try and get away, pretend you two can have a moment to yourselves

She's always giving you her food, you don't even need to ask. She'll happily let you pick at her plate if you're still hungry or you haven't eaten in a while due to lockdown

You're lucky enough to only be two cells away from each other, you two often get in trouble for talking during lights out

If you're ever in trouble, Vi takes the beatings for you. She can and has thrown herself between you and a guard and is not afraid to do it again

Same obviously goes for inmates

"If you want to keep your tongue in your mouth, I suggest you leave her alone"

Though not many inmates mess with you considering your personal body guard of a girlfriend

If you're ever thrown into solitary, Vi goes crazy. Getting into more fights than usual, refusing food, even trying to break into solitary to be with you

If you want, she gives you both matching tattoos there with whatever device she can get her hands on. She lets you pick out the design and the placement

Anytime she gets clean clothes, bandages, and hygiene supplies (all of which are of course a rarity there), she uses them/gives them to you first. Bandages up any new cuts of yours or changes your dirty ones, gives you her new toothbrush and toothpaste, and so on. You'll have to fight her on at least sharing some of the items, like the new tube of toothpaste. She just wants to make sure you're taken care of

"Just scored a new hairbrush. Go ahead and take it, bun. Need to keep your hair brushed so I can play with it, yeah?"

Vi cuts your hair for you there and takes it super seriously. She's not gonna let you walk around with a shitty haircut

Though she did fuck it up once (or a few times, but they were smaller mistakes that were easy to hide)

To make up for that godawful haircut she gave herself a bad one too. It's just hair, after all, it grows back

She'll stand guard while you're showering. Make sure no one's gaze is lingering around on you. Also lets you shower first so if there is any hot water you'll get it

Vi is a portable bed for you. Whenever you're together and you want to rest, she'll try to find a quieter place and let you rest your head on her shoulder/in her lap. She plays with your hair while you're sleeping and checks your pulse every now and then. Just to make sure you're still there with her

Whenever you get sick there, she will make the biggest fuss to get you to medical. If that isn't an option Vi does her best to take care of you with the limited resources you both have

"Snuck a bit of that honey from breakfast. Try and cover your throat in that and don't worry about talking, okay Y/N?"

During bunk inspections, if you have any contraband, Vi takes it and hides it in her cell. She rarely ever gets caught with it, but she'd rather take the punches than have you on the receiving end of them

On the flipside Vi trades a lot of her own contraband to get things for you. Things like snacks, jewelry, hair dye, better clothes, anything other inmates have that you might want

Though if trading for those doesn't work, she will straight up steal them for you

When Caitlyn comes to release her for help with tracking down the stolen gemstone, she throws in a condition. An obvious one

"You're getting Y/N out too. That or you can try to find Silco on your own. Undercity is going to eat you alive without me"

And that's how you and your lover finally escape Stillwater

[chaotic-fandom-writer]

Adam x Reader P.6 (Hazbin Hotel)

Warnings: Heavy cursing, violence, adult themes

Chapters I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

You

"Alright Adam, if you're coming in with me, you need to follow a couple of rules."

Adam rolls his eyes, letting out a long, dramatic sigh. "Rules? Aren't we supposed to be in Hell?"

"Yes, Adam, but you're notorious for trying to kill me and my friends, and for being a huge dick to them." He opens his mouth to reply, but you a finger up in his face, silencing him.

"Rule #1 - no trying to kill my friends. Or harm them in any way."

"Lame."

"Rule #2 - keep that fat fucking mouth of yours shut." Adam exaggerates a gasp at this. "Well aren't you a rude bitch?"

"Rule - #3," you continue on, ignoring him, "you do what I say, when I say it, nothing more, nothing less. Do you understand me?"

Adam chuckles. "What are you, my mom?" You glare at him.

"Adam. Do you understand me?"

He sighs again. "Fine, yes, whatever, can we just get a move on please?"

You stay still, looking him in the eyes. You can see him visibly soften. He reaches for your hand, but you flinch away. "I promise I'll behave. Okay?"

Put off by the sudden change in demeanor, you nod, the two of you walk up the steps, and you knock on the door.

It's answered by Angel Dust, who looks uninterested initally, but then he sees you, and then his eyes land on Adam. His jaw drops, and all he can manage to say is -

"Ho-ly shit-"

"What? What's wrong?" You can hear Charlie's voice call out from behind him. The doors swing fully open as the whole group crowds around, curious to know what Angel was yelling about.

Everyone's eyes go wide at the sight, and nobody speaks for a second.

You can see tears flooding in Charlie's eyes. "(Y/N)?"

You see the confusion flicker across Husk's face. "And.."

And the anger on Vaggie's. "Adam?"

Then you notice Alastor. He was standing behind the crowd a-ways at first, but at the mention of Adam's name, you see him perk up, his gaze snapping in your direction.

Suddenly, he's not behind the crowd anymore, but in front of them. Something dangerous flickers across his face, something violent.

"Alastor, wait, please let me-"

"Sorry dear, I'm not interested in chatter. I have unfinished business with Adam, here."

His eyes never leave Adam's, but Adam glaces at you, unsure of what to do at first.

He puts his hands up awkwardly. "Hey man, look, we aren't here for-"

Suddenly, a black tendril comes shooting from Alastor, knocking Adam several feet away. He lands on his back with a loud grunt.

You gasp. "Adam!"

Then you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Charlie looking at you, her expression clearly conflicted, as she was happy to see you alive, but weary of Adam being with you.

"(Y/N).. I'm so happy you're okay, but.. why is he with you?"

"Charlie..." You trail off, glancing behind you at the sound of more crashing. You see Alastor throwing Adam around like a ragdoll, but Adam does nothing in retaliation.

You feel your body begin to surge forward, but the hand on your shoulder gives you a gentle, but firm tug.

"When we opened the door just now, my first thought was, maybe Adam brought you here against your will. Maybe he had you capitve, and he was using you to bring us down.

But then, watching you just now, seeing how you obviously want to protect him.."

Charlie closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath, pulling her hand away from you and standing taller.

She opens her eyes. "I can't allow you to be here if he's with you. He's a danger to us all, and you know I care about you so much, but I have so many others here to protect too."

"Charlie, listen to me, please. I know why you feel that way, and trust me, I absolutely despise him still. He isn't the one who killed me but he's the fucking reason I ended up in that damned place."

Vaggie is the one who steps forward next. "Then why did you bring him here?"

"Because we had no choice, okay? Heaven wanted to erase all of my memories, shortly before kicking me back down to Hell. They didn't want me spreading knowledge that sinners can be redeemed."

Charlie gasps, a hand covering her mouth.

Your conversation is cut short by Adam crashing into the building just above the door. He collapses on the pavement, and you rush to his side, dropping to your knees.

"Adam! Adam, are you okay?"

He coughs, giving his best sarcastic smirk. "Oh yeah, never better."

You look up to see Alastor looming over the two of you.

"Now, (Y/N), I'd rather I didn't have to hurt you, given your relationship with everyone at the hotel and all, but.."

His smile grows wider, saliva dripping down his chin and onto his suit jacket.

"I will if I have to."

Charlie and Vaggie come in between you two, facing Alastor. Charlie raises her hands. "Alastor, stop!"

"Why should I? I'm simply settling something I should have taken care of long ago."

"Because, dumbass," Vaggie speaks up, "They have some information from Heaven that you're going to want to hear."

--

Once everyone had managed to calm down, you all sat circled in the common area.

Everyone sat on one side of the room, clearly avoiding going near Adam. You and Adam sat together on a separate couch, and you worked on cleaning up his wounds. He looked uncomfortable with it, but nobody else was exactly volunteering to help him.

You had gone through the entire story with everybody from start to finish, explaining why the two of you had no choice but to flee to Hell together.

Finally, after a pause of silence, Adam speaks up.

"Guys.. that's not all I have to tell you."

You cock your head to the side, confused. "What else is there Adam?"

He swallows visibily, and you can suddenly feel the extra layer of tension pile on like a wool blanket in the winter snow.

"..Adam? What else?"

He avoids your gaze for a moment, staring down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers.

Finally, he looks up at you, and pulls a file from underneath his robe.

"I managed to take this before that meeting Sera had.. actually, stealing this was how I found out about that meeting in the first place.

You told me you wouldn't believe what I had to say without proof, and I told you I would prove it. So, here it is."

He shakily hands you the file. You furrow your brows and look up at him, but he refuses to make eye contact with you. You briefly glance around the room, and Charlie gives you a small, but encouraging nod.

You take the file, quickly opening it and scanning over it. The first thing you notice is Sera's official, magical seal stamped at the bottom of the page.

Okay.. so this is real.

You read over the contents of the page..

And your head snaps upwards, eyes going big, staring directly at Adam.

"I.. Adam.. you.."

He swallows again, nodding at you before turning to the rest of the room.

"It's true, (Y/N)..

Your name.. your real name, is Eve. You were my second wife."

Everyone in the room gasps. Charlie leaps to her feet. "(Y/N), please let me see that file."

You hand it to Charlie, your hand shaking violently, eyes still round with shock.

She scans over it herself before passing it to Vaggie, who then passes it around the room.

Another uncomfortable silence settles over the room after everybody finishes reading.

"So.." Angel speaks up, "You have the power of reincarnation, huh? That's pretty cool."

Adam replies for you. "She wasn't able to use it to it's full ability with her memory erased, but with the file we took, she can get that all back."

He picks the papers up, flipping through to the end. Fused to the page sits a small, round cracker. He picks it up and holds it out to you. "Eat this."

You raise an eyebrow. "A jesus cracker is the way to get my memories back?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't be a sarcastic bitch okay? Just eat it."

You roll your eyes back, taking the cracker and placing it on your tongue. At first, you feel nothing, and start to get angry, thinking Adam must've pulled some shitty joke on you.

Then, all at once, it all floods back to you.

You feel your body fall back against your will, your limbs going numb, unable to move.

You can hear people shouting around you, the concerned cries of your friends, but all their voices fade to a blur as the memories come rushing in.

Suddenly, your ears begin to ring, and your vision goes black.

And then you lose total conciousness.

--

You wake a while later. When you first open your eyes, all you see is darkness. It takes a second to adjust, but you quickly realize you're in one of the hotel bedrooms.

You sit up fast, a little too fast, and your head throbs.

Your hand flies to your forehead, cradling it as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You take a moment to process all of the new information swimming around in your brain.

And once you remember, really remember..

You feel your blood boil.

Storming out of the room and down the stairs, you find everybody still lounging around, still awkwardly avoiding Adam, who sat in the center of the room.

Adam, you thought. My 'husband.'

You walk directly up to him.

Everyone turns to you, shocked to see you finally awake, but you completely tune them out. You march straight up to him, and he nervously looks up as you approach.

"(Y/N).. so.. you remember?" He asks quietly.

"Oh, I remember." You smile. "But hey, Adam. Could you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Take off your mask."

His eyes go wide, looking around the room as everybody watches. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable right now, okay?"

"Adam.

Take off.

Your mask."

He looks around again, then slowly lifts his hands to his mask.

He removes it, and you see his face again.

That face you remember clear as day, now.

You smile again.

Then suddenly, you swing your right fist into his face as hard as you can fucking manage, your knuckles making direct contact with his jaw bone.

He flies backwards, falling flat on his ass.

"Ow. OW! What the fuck, (Y/N)?" He shouts, cradling his jaw. Then, more quietly, he whimpers, "Why does she keep punching my jaw?"

You feel hot tears building up in your eyes. "That's for letting them erase my memories, motherfucker!"

He blinks, his brows furrowing. "(Y/N), if you remember everything, then you remember I had no choice."

"Oh yeah, Adam. I definitely remember how hard you did not fight for me."

He scoffs. "What the fuck was I supposed to do? You accepted the forbidden fruit. That was you, not me."

"I was still your wife, Adam! You were still supposed to protect me."

A look of hurt crosses his face, before he quickly replaces it with anger. "Well, maybe, if my dear wife didn't decide to listen to fucking Lucifer, I would have been able to protect her!" He yells, his voice raising louder and louder.

Husk attempts to speak up. "Uh, hey guys.."

You ignore him, shouting louder than Adam. "Maybe I listened to Lucifer because maybe he treated me like a fucking person, and not some item to possess!"

Adam flinches. "I was proud to have you as my wife. That's a crime now?"

Your tears roll freely now, dripping down your chin and onto your clothes. You ignore them, you ignore everyone surrounding the two of you, your focus completely on Adam.

With your memories back, that also meant all the hurt was back. The pain, the betrayal you felt when you had your memories erased.

"I looked at you the entire time, Adam. I watched you the entire time they broke in. When they drug me out of our home. When they held me down, when Sera performed the ritual.

I watched you the entire time. I watched, because I believed my husband would save me. And if he couldn't I believed he'd fight."

Your words are cut off by the choked sobs that escape your throat. You swallow them down, willing yourself to continue.

"Instead of seeing you fight for me, I watched as my husband stood by and let them completely erase my mind. And then you stood by and watched as they sent me down to hell. Or, should I say what really happened?"

Adam shakes his head. "(Y/N).."

"No, they didn't send me to Hell on purpose." You continued. "Their ritual went wrong, and it fucking killed me, and you watched it happen."

Adam steps forward, trying to reach out for you, but you jump back as quickly as you can. "Don't fucking touch me Adam."

Brows knit together in frustration, he pulls back from you.

"I didn't want any of that to happen, (Y/N), but if I fought, what if they erased my memories too? Got me killed, too? I would've ended up in Hell with you."

You turn, suddenly unable to hold your anger down any longer. You scream at him.

"Then at least we would have still been together! We could've met again! I could have found you! But you fucking abandoned me, Adam."

He opens his mouth to respond, but Charlie steps in between you two, bringing you back to reality.

"You guys.. I'm sorry, but maybe this should wait until you're in private." She puts a hand on your shoulder, giving you a look of pity.

"We just, don't want to make any mistakes out of anger, right?"

You stare directly at Adam.

"The only mistake I ever made, was loving a man like you, and trusting you to protect me."

You turn away, not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes at this, and run up the stairs.

You slam your bedroom door, locking it, and collapse into your bed.

Exhausted, you cry until you fade into a deep slumber.

--

Part 7 out now!

Don't forget, I'm always accepting requests

Chapters I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

[alex-rambles]

HII can I request a yandere bill cipher x reader oneshot when its weirdmageddon and the reader is kidnapped and just more of what they're doing in their pyramid. Sorry if it's a little confusing I tried to word it as best as I could 😅

YES. I GOT DRAGGED BACK INTO MY BILL SIMP PHASE.

He's pissed, you can tell.

The question is, what about? Did you do something? No, that's impossible, you've been stuck in one room for... how long, now? A few days, at least.

He finally appears in 'your' room, muttering to himself as he floats above 'your' bed.

"Sunspot, help me out. How does one go about breaking someone like Sixer?"

You do your best to ignore him.

"Are you deaf? I asked you a question!"

Bill rolls his eye and pokes you repeatedly. "Answer. Me."

"Shut up," you finally hiss at him. "I'm not an all-knowing demon. Breaking people is your department, not mine!"

"You're lucky I like you."

"Am I? I'd rather be a piece of stone on your throne than where I am!"

"Oh, no, no, no. If I didn't like you, I'd tear you apart, atom by atom. I digress, how does one break that man? He won't respond to torture! And I need that equation, sunspot! Then we can rule the world!"

You scoff. "What if I don't want to rule the world? Did you ever think of that?"

He probably didn't. He's too caught up in his little fantasy world to consider what the object of his obsession even wants.

His answer surprises you. "Of course I did! But you underestimate the way power gets to the head! Sureeee, you aren't interested now, but give it a bit, once you get a taste of real power-"

"For an all-knowing entity, you're a fool."

His eye narrows. He messes with his bowtie, clearly doing his best to restrain himself. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely! You're a selfish prick! You claim to love me, but you obviously don't even know how to treat the one you love! You're stuck in your stupid power fantasy! Get over yourself!"

Bill actually appears... hurt. That's new. You've thrown many, many insults at him, but he always laughed it off.

"Can you cut it out? I'm trying, you know that? I've done everything to make you comfortable! Keep your fragile human body functioning! Make you happy!"

"No! You're not! You're isolating me! I'm the opposite of happy! You're trying to force me into what I don't want!"

You scowl at him. "I hate you! I hope that Ford kills you! I hope that you have to watch everything you worked for get ripped away!"

For the first time, his voice turns quiet.

"Well, sunspot... Didn't know ya felt that way. I'm trying to make you happy. I promise, you'll learn to like it."

"I will kill myself before that," you spit.

With that, he crumbles.

"Nononono, you can't do that! I will not allow that! If you die, what will I have?"

"What, is world domination not enough? You're not just selfish, you're a greedy fuck."

You haven't really let your emotions run loose yet. But in this moment, something inside you just snapped. Whether it was the isolation, or just Bill being Bill, you don't know.

All you know is that Bill is upset, and it brings you some twisted form of joy.

"All humans die, Bill! I'd die eventually even if I don't off myself purposely!"

Well clearly, that's something he didn't want to even consider.

"NO! You won't die...! I won't let that happen...!"

You sneer and place your finger on his middle area. "Oh, I very much will. And I'll be the happiest person alive. Free from you and your madness."

Bill regains his composure. "You won't. I will absolutely never let you die. I like you too much to let you die. You're the only fleshbag I can genuinely say I like, and I refuse to lose that."

"Selfish bastard."

"Stop calling me names, you hear me? I hate that!"

"Oh my god! I hate being stuck with you, but I evidently can't do jack shit about it...! Sometimes, we just have to roll with what happens!"

Bill merely clasps his hands behind his back. "Clearly we both need space," he says calmly, as if his previous freakout didn't happen. "I'll give you a day, then we'll talk."

You collapse onto 'your' bed as he warps out of the room.

Absolutely unbearable.

P2

[rubypasha1]

I’m going to be honest and say I had some bad experiences in the Transformers fandom. I wrote fics for it, admittedly very bad but they were my first. Had to learn somewhere. Thing is I enjoyed the writing, actually I loved it and it made me realize my passion for writing fiction.

But that didn’t stop the bad experiences. Mostly people. I won’t go into detail but for the love of god please don’t ask or encourage a 12 year old, who has clearly stated they are one, to write smut. And don’t send them very explicit, dead dove do not eat fics without at least staying “hey, there’s some messed up stuff in here so just be warned” instead of “Here’s some inspiration!” And constantly asking when smut will be written.

I swear Ao3 saved my creativity. I pretty completely left Wattpad after that, didn’t touch transformers content again till recently this year.

And I’ve made a decision. I’m going to write a transformers fic. Not now, only next year it’s my last year of school and stuff is hectic. But I’m going to write it. To prove to myself I can write a good transformers fic with good characterization. And a reader or oc that has a bit more depth.

Anywho, @ss-shitstorm fic “Breaking Bread” heavily inspired me and actually was the reason I got back into the Ttansforemrs fandom. I highly recommend it it’s one of my new top favorites and has a terrifying attention to detail. Great characterization, hilarious reader insert that’s basically a very stressed out certain magical princess who’s got a knack for science and baking. And a crazy dog. And sassy bird. Who likes Fluttershy. It’s amazing.

Did I mention there’s actual science stuff in it? Stochiometry my nemesis.

And it’s got me thinking about making my own. Maybe more of an oc fic but still written like ny other reader ones.

I’m thinking of doing one where a human is put in a cybertronian body, TFP universe. They have basic knowledge of TFP, watched it but couldn’t remember everything. But they knew enough. Definitely enough o know that cybertron being alive was before the war.

They’re placed in a cybertronian body before the deception uprising. Still around the time where Functionisin ruled and they were in a kind of ‘presenter’/‘video camera’ alt mode.

Except they have anxiety, often freeze up with a panic enduring lack of social skills driven from their natural personality and the fact they’re a human soul shoved into a metal body. Completely alone and forced to adapt to a society that bases value on an alt mode.

The were an artist while human and over time through constant stress and a lack of familiarity with materials on cybertronian, they loose their love of painting and creating art.

But it’s reignited. They find a underground club where mecs and Femmas of many alt modes come together to anonymously submit art ranging from poetry to music and more. And that’s when they find it, a piece of writing that captures their soul. Something so deep and beautiful they feel their own spark reigniting, and they try their hand at creating again. Even if small.

They keep going to the club, building up courage to place art pieces on view. They don’t get much attention, except for a mech who seems curious and stands beside them as they pick apart every little detail.

They talk for a bit. Share a few critics, nothing too crazy. Turns out he’s the one who wrote that lovely piece of writing that inspired them. They turn around, gasping and thanking him for creating something so inspiring-

Megatron stands before them.

Or rather, Megatronus.

The gladiator had just begun his days of battle in the arena but the end was inevitable, the reader knew who he was and fled in terror leaving a confused (and proud, it felt good to know his words inspired at least one person) Megatronus behind.

Readers in a panic, but it doesn’t end there. Their ‘job’ forces them to begin recording the gladiator fights, particularly the rising star Megatronus leading to the eventual meet up of the two again.

But it doesn’t stop there. Soundwave came soon after and, shockingly enough, Ratchet after some unfortunate events (who is far flirtier and leaves the reader thinking “Oh my god he’s so smooth but whyyyyy”)

And it gets worse. Megatronus clearly wishes to se ether atrworks, one of the few along with Soundwave who sees something more than just a waste of time or hobby.

A relationship is formed, tentive on the readers side. They see him and Soundwave less and less like the terrifying deceptions they would become but rather who stood before them. Mechs bashed by a cruel system, they’re creativity forced to writher in their sparks painfully, smothered by a need to fight for the entertainment of others or die by the claws of the system.

They care about them, they eventually realise in horror. And on an unfortunate night they broke down and revealed to Soundwave a horrible truth. War was coming, and they knew what he would become. What All of them would. They beg him, plead to not take things too far. Life was precious, organic or not and taking those of innocents . . .

Soundwave was an outlier himself, but he remained somewhat skeptical. It wa shard to not belive them, the raw emotions they displayed showcased fear and he was good at reading others frames.

The little cybertronian was odd, but intriguing. A friend he had grown to care for, to wish to protect as his closest companion Megatronus insisted, over time. But if there was truth to their words they must know things that could endanger all of cybertron. Soundwave didn’t see himself as a activist nor rebellious but even he couldn’t deny the waters were churning.

Things happen, yada yada yada, reader gets kidnapped and put into stasis just as the war starts and wakes up many years later to the face of a human child se knew very well from a certain TV series.

All out panic ensures

OR, the other fic idea:

Human wakes up as a vehicon . Says “nope”, tries to get away and accidentally becomes the leader of a vehicon rights movement.

The autobots it’s are confused, the decepticons are angry and the reader just wants to get some dogs or cats dammit.

Of course, a dog does gain interest in them. And by that I mean a terrifying metal dragon who decides this trembling little con would be the perfect way to help him attain details on how to resurrect his kin.

He is very mistaken. Reader can’t even be in the same room as one of the deception lieutenants without rattling like a tin can.

Honestly don’t know if it would be a Soundwave or Megatron x reader. Definitely will be friendship developing there. Maybe both? I’m a sucker for tall dark and creepy guys who have a soft spot for tiny

Second idea is just all the vehicons lining up to get names form reader. All very human ones. . “Bill” “John” Matthew” Thomas” “My names already Steve” “Jenny” “Bucket”

And Reader is just stressing cause they’re not running a rebellion or anything. They’re running a daycare for a bunch of guys who do not care about their own safety and lives at all and she constantly has to tell them, no you cannot go to the Autobits the will shoot you on site. No, wanting to sacrifice yourself isn’t a good idea- CANDICE GET AWAY FROM THE FRAGGING WRECKER GOD DAMMIT DO NONE OF YOH UAVE ANY WILL TO LIVE?

Chaos ensures

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 50 ~ Bring me to Life

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 4

✧ Word Count : 7.5k

In this chapter ~ When all hope seemed to be lost and the sickness only getting worse, the group finally returns with the meds after a very close call. With her newfound freedom, Rose decides to take full advantage to spend it doing something exciting. Although, nothing can last forever, and just as she was finally feeling happy again, it all came crashing back down.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ROSE POV ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sound of coughing bounced off of the walls around the three of us as we tried to help a man named Henry who was currently fighting for his life. Glenn and I panted heavily as we tried to hold him down on the ground as he continued to squirm, while Hershel was attempting to lower a tube down his throat so we could get air in his lungs.

"Henry, we need you to calm down. We're trying to help." Hershel said through the man's coughs and heavy breaths.

He kept fighting the feeling of the thick tube slowly slipping down his throat, and I honestly couldn't blame him, it probably felt awful. I wanted to gag just looking at the scene. But we needed to do this in order for him to live, clearing his lungs for him because his body could no longer fight and do it himself.

Eventually, Hershel got it down far enough and attached the airbag on the other end, squeezing it quickly so air could flow into his lungs, and the man stopped struggling almost immediately as his eyes fluttered closed. Glenn and I both sighed in relief as we pulled our hands away from his chest, continuing to cough and try to catch our own breaths after watching him struggle for so long.

"Drink some of that," Hershel nodded to the cups of tea sitting next to Glenn, "Both of you."

Glenn lazily handed one of the mugs to me as he lifted the glass up to his lips as well. Hershel just continued to squeeze the bag for Henry every few seconds as he watched us breath, drinking the tea he continued to provide.

"Some council meeting, huh?" Hershel asked, his tone sounding as if he hoped to bring light to the situation.

I huffed out a breath, "We're a few members short."

"I think we should make some new rules before they get back." the old man announced, "I hereby declare, we have spaghetti Tuesdays...every Wednesday." he joked. The two of us just looked at him blankly. "But first we have to find some spaghetti."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I let out a dry chuckle, "You know what, I would love to live to see spaghetti Wednesdays."

The two men both gave me a look, staring at me with disapproving eyes, "Oh, what? He can make a joke, but I can't. Hypocrites."

Hershel chuckled lightly, "You okay to take over?" he asked holding the airbag out to me and I nodded, "Every five to six seconds, squeeze. You start feeling lightheaded, grab somebody else to take over. We'll take it in shifts."

I nodded again and began to squeeze the bag like he instructed me. I was determined to keep him alive for as long as I could, hoping that the group would be back any minute now and save the man's life. We had already lost too many people in the time that they were gone, I wanted desperately to avoid another. I could feel that everyone else was holding on by a thread.

Not only that, but my worry for the ones who went out was only growing more by each hour that they hadn't returned. In the back of my mind I knew that they were okay, they were smart enough to make a trip like this. But I couldn't help but think it was too far of a trip to make in such a short amount of time. It really hit me then, and only then, that I truly might die before Daryl came back.

I was racking my brain as I continued to keep Henry alive, thinking back to the last thing I said to him before he took off. Until I remembered I just told him I loved him, and felt myself sigh in slight relief, knowing that if I were to die, at least my last words to him was something meaningful.

About an hour passed and I was starting to feel tired, my hands growing weaker by the second as they started to cramp up. Keeping someone breathing really was a lot of work, I didn't know how Hershel was holding his shit together so well. Glenn took notice and offered to take over, allowing me to take a break as I slowly waddled my way out of the cell, wanting to check on a few others in the space. But Hershel seemed to read my mind, coming up to me the second I left the room and asked if I could make his rounds with him.

We walked down the stairs silently and looked in to check on who was still alive. We passed by a few breathing people before Hershel stopped suddenly at a cell and saw a man with blood coming out of his eyes, and I peered down at his chest to see he was completely still. I closed my eyes when I saw him, and Hershel was quick to set his light down to fully walk into the room. I knew what I had to do, and I slowly took out my knife with a breath, but Hershel placed his hand on top of mine.

"No. Not here." he whispered.

He then walked back out of the room quickly while I watched the deceased man, making sure he didn't come back at the wrong time. The old man returned only a few seconds later with a stretcher so we could roll him out and put him down without anyone else having to see.

"Help me get him on this." he whispered.

I sighed as my mind began to wander, "But what about in a couple of hours, when Henry's dead,-"

"Rose." he whispered sternly.

"How are we going to get his body down the stairs and across the cellblock without anyone noticing?" I asked, "It's hard enough to do that when they're on the ground level."

"If that happens- if- you're going to help me." he responded.

I took in a breath as I looked at him seriously, "And what if I'm gone?" I asked quietly.

"Shut up," he whispered harshly, not even wanting to think about my words, "Help me get him on this."

Letting out a heavy breath, I moved to grab his legs to help pick the man up, setting him down on the stretcher gently without making too much noise. We then slowly tried to make our way out of the cellblock without too many people noticing, not wanting them to be aware of the amount of people we were taking out. Though right as we were about to make it up to the door, a child's voice suddenly cut through the quiet cellblock.

"What are you doing?" Lizzy asked.

The two of us whipped around to see the younger girl standing there with a tilted head as she eyed the covered body. I hesitated for a moment, but Hershel was quick to think of something that wouldn't scare her, walking over to bend down to her level.

"We're taking Mr. Jacobson to a quieter place," he said simply before raising his hand to feel her forehead, "Why don't you go get my copy of Tom Sawyer from my room. I want you to read it by tonight."

She coughed into her hand harshly before looking back up to him with a shaking head, "I won't finish it."

"Why?" he asked.

"It's going to get too dark." she replied.

Hershel only nodded in understanding, "Well, give it your best try." he said calmly, hoping to distract her.

I watched as she slowly nodded and walked away, but not without looking back at us a few different times, before completely disappearing back into the darkness of her cell. To be honest that kid always creeped me out.

Though once she had gone back to her room, we quickly ushered the body out of the cellblock and took him down the hall a bit so we could keep this as quiet as possible. The stretcher came to a stop as we glanced around for a moment, pulling out my knife again as I stood up near the man's head, glancing back up towards Hershel with heavy eyes.

"You haven't had to do this yet have you?" I asked him.

He quickly shook his head, "There was one late last night, Glenn did it. People don't need to see it; I don't want them to."

It seemed as though as soon as he finished his sentence, the man beneath the sheet began to groan and try to sit up as he came back to life. I brought my hand down on his chest to keep him still before plunging my knife into the side of his head, ripping it out harshly as his blood began to seep through the white cloth. I mindlessly placed my knife back on my his securely as I looked down at his dead body, hearing Hershel recite a few words from the bible like some kind of funeral.

But my vison slowly began to blur, feeling myself begin to break out into a cold sweat as I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I blinked repeatedly to try and stay awake, steadying myself with my hands on the stretcher, but the darkness was slowly consuming me, and I knew I couldn't last another second as I fell to the floor.

The last thing I managed to hear, was Hershel's panicked voice calling my name before it all went quiet.

My face scrunched up a little as I could see the dim light behind my eyelids, feeling a soft touch running across my head. I grew confused the longer my eyes remained closed, finally peeling them open again as my vison was still just as blurry as before, trying to allow them to adjust as I woke. Eventually my gaze focused on Glenn who hovered above me, his head facing down and his hand resting against my head, gently stroking my forehead with his thumb.

But once he lifted his head to look at me again, seeing me returning to consciousness, he sighed in obvious relief. "Oh, thank God," he muttered as he placed a kiss on my forehead, "Jesus...you've been out for hours." 

My mouth parted in slight shock as I glanced past his head and noticed it was now dark outside. The day completely vanishing it seemed like. I shook my head and tried to think of the last thing I remembered before passing out, "What happened?"

"After you left to put that guy down, you just passed out cold. Hershel had to bring you back in here and lay you down, he said it was probably from exhaustion, dehydration..." he rambled on before sighing again, "God...I thought I was going to lose you." he finished sadly.

"I'm okay." I whispered in reassurance, resting my hand on top of his own as I slowly came back to reality.

He nodded, "Okay, good... just sit tight for a second, I'll be right back. I've gotta check on Henry quick, he's just in the next room."

"Okay," I agreed as he gave me a small smile, shakily standing back up to head outside, leaving me alone with my thoughts as I stared back up at the ceiling.

I laid there perfectly still as the minutes passed, trying to gather my thoughts as I leaned over, reaching for the cup of water conveniently placed right by my side. I knew I needed to get up, find Hershel to let him know I was okay, wanting to know if there were any signs from Daryl. But I paused suddenly when it hit me then that Glenn had yet to return, causing me to realize the area had grown oddly silent. A chill ran up my spine as it didn't sit right with me, slowly sitting up on my cot to try and listen for any noise, even so much as someone walking. Anything.

Lizzy's familiar voice then suddenly called out for Hershel in a slight panic, and that alone made my ears perk up. I slowly got out of bed while wincing at my sore muscles before someone else then started to scream. I tried to push myself to move faster out of the room, looking over the balcony to see that there were walkers everywhere, some killing the people who were still alive, while others fought with everything they had to try and defend themselves.

I had watched this familiar scene before, the sight taking me back to when the illness first started. A pit formed in my stomach as I knew we couldn't let it happen again. 

My eyes widened as I turned to rush and find Glenn, but when I made it towards the next room, Henry was nowhere to be found, and Glenn was laying flat on the floor. I instantly dropped to my knees in a panic, turning his head to see he was choking and could no longer breathe, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he struggled.

My stomach dropped, "Hershel!" I called out as I laid him down on his back, beginning to press firmly on his chest to keep his heart beating, performing CPR.

My hands pumped up and down on his chest at a steady pace as I counted to thirty in my head, pinching his nose and tilting his head back so I could breathe into his mouth, before counting all over again. I felt tears forming in my eyes when I saw he still wasn't responding, only growing worse as he fought for his life.

"Come on, Glenn please!" I cried, "Hershel!" I called again over my shoulder, desperate for the old man's help as my vision began to blur.

I repeated the actions over and over again, I wasn't going to stop until he had a heartbeat. My back was still facing the doorway as I hovered over him, barely even hearing the sound of a walker slowly making its way closer before I finally turned around it face it. It was just about to grab my leg until I reached for my knife and stabbed its head harshly, not even bothering to pull it back out as I faced Glenn again.

My arms began to shake as I cried, pushing down harsher and harsher as I refused to believe that this was it for him. I couldn't let him die, not when he was so sure that the two of us would make it out of this together. There was no way in hell I was going to give up on him.

Just as I was about to lean down and breathe into his mouth again, he was dramatically gasping for air, leaning over to spit out a bunch of blood that were once filling his lungs. I sighed in relief as my cheeks were wet with tears, patting his back to try and help him get it all out and clear his lungs.

Hershel then frantically turned the corner with wide eyes once he saw the state we were in, "He stopped breathing." I informed him, trying to catch my breath.

"You saved his life." he replied, "Hold on, we're going to need that airbag." he said before turning back around to find it.

"Wait!" I called out, seeing him stop in his tracks, "I'll go find it. Just keep him breathing, I don't think I can do it anymore." I said as I continued to try and catch my breath.

The man nodded frantically, quickly switched places with me as I walked out of the cell to try and find the airbag we had made. I racked my brain for where it could be, thinking back to the last person who had it. Before I stopped dead in my tracks once my eyes landed on a certain figure that I recognized quite well.

Henry had turned and was now trapped over the balcony, his body lying on the netting that kept him from falling down towards the bottom level of the cellblock...the airbag still attached to his bloody face.

"Son of a bitch." I cursed quietly, before slowly pushing myself to move forward.

I kicked each of my legs over the railing clumsily, falling to my knees in an instant on the flimsy net that was now struggling to support both of our bodies. He noticed me quickly as I gasped for air, taking it to his advantage as he crawled over toward me in an instant, not giving me a chance to balance. He hovered on top of me as his teeth chomped right near my face, my arms struggling to keep the dead weight off of me as my jaw clenched. I could feel my muscles shake wildly as I turned my head away from his face, gritting my teeth as he attempted to sink his teeth into my flesh.

I tried to maneuver his weight slowly, reaching for the airbag from where it was latched onto his face, keeping his teeth away from me as best as I could. I cried out suddenly, not being strong enough to handle it on my own as I was only one step closer to death, before a sudden voice called my name from below me.

My gaze snapped down to see Maggie with wide eyes, aiming her gun towards the walker's head as she saw it was about to kill me, but my screams of protest stopped her. "No! You might hit the bag we need it for Glenn!" I yelled as I continued to struggle with the walker.

I groaned as I continued to fight with the dead, my arms nearly giving out as I tried to reach for the bag one last time. But the weight suddenly subsided in a split second as it collapsed on top of me dead, looking back down to see Maggie lowering her gun.

I nodded quickly in appreciation as I shoved the thing off of me, tugging the airbag from its mouth before trying to stand up on the wobbly net. My heart was racing in my chest and my limbs had never felt weaker as I fought with everything I had to try and make it back up to him, steadying myself on the railing.

"He's turning blue!" Hershel's urgent voice called out, only pushing me to move faster as I lifted myself back onto the second level in a not so graceful manner.

The moment I reentered the room, I handed the airbag to Hershel and couldn't pull my eyes away from his face as he continued to struggle. He was wheezing and gasping for air as blood continued to pour out of his mouth and my breath caught in my throat. I felt tears slip down my face effortlessly once again as Maggie held him down so Hershel could place the tube down his throat to get him breathing again.

My eyes never moved away from him the entire time, standing there like a goddamn statue, not allowing myself to relax until I knew he would be okay.

Once he successfully got it down his throat, he started to squeeze the bag, and Glenn finally stopped struggling as the room went quiet once again. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and plopped down onto the floor in exhaustion, my hands shaking from adrenaline. I wiped the sweat off of my forehead staring down at him as his chest rose and fell with steady breaths. I could barely process the fact that I almost lost him so easily, I didn't want to think about it too much. He was almost ripped away from all of us, and it scared me so badly.

Maggie then noticed me struggling to catch my breath and placed a hand on my leg as she glanced back at me, "Ro? You okay?" she asked.

I tried to form some kind of reply but nothing came out as I started to cough again, blood beginning to pour out of my mouth. I heard Hershel instruct Maggie to keep squeezing the bag for Glenn as he quickly moved over to me, switching places as they both frantically moved. He gently pushed me over to the side so I could get all of the blood out of my mouth, but it just kept coming, a never ending cycle that I couldn't escape from nor prevent. My eyes started to get heavy again and he visibly noticed as he patted my back harder.

"Come on Rose, stay with us." he pleaded as he slowly lifted me up and onto the nearby mattress I was in front of.

I was trying, but I couldn't stop coughing as I struggled to stay awake. I kept trying to tell myself that Glenn needed the airbag, he needed it to stay alive and I needed to pull through for him. But I felt so tired and Hershel's steady voice started to fade again into almost nothing as it was replaced with a slight ringing. I felt myself slowly slipping away again like I did once before, knowing in the back of my mind that this could be it.

Until I suddenly heard the cellblock door slam open and a familiar voice calling my name.

The life was instantly brought back into me as my ears perked up hearing the sound of his sweet voice, however I didn't open my eyes. Though I knew that I was conscious, my eyelids felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds, the feeling being almost painful for me to open my eyes again.

"Up here!" Hershel yelled back, hearing heavy footsteps echo around the place before they were suddenly right in front of the entrance, a small gasp leaving his lips.

"What happened? She pass out?" he asked frantically.

I mustered all the strength I had left in that moment, opening my eyes slightly to see Daryl standing right above me with a bag hanging lazily from his grasp. He noticed almost immediately that my eyes squinted open, not wasting another second before he was kneeling at my side.

"Rosie? Baby?" he whispered softly, the pet name just slipping right out to prove how scared he was, raising his hand to run his thumb over my cheek.

I cleared my throat roughly before nodding my head, "I'm here." I breathed heavily.

There were sighs of relief all over the room upon hearing the sound of my strained and tired voice. I then felt Daryl lean down to place a kiss on the top of my head, "Thank God yer okay." he whispered against my hair, "Yer okay." he repeated.

I smiled weakly at him and saw Bob lingering in the doorway, hesitantly making his way inside to hand out the medicine we needed.

"We need to get her an IV to get the meds in her." Hershel said, beginning to stand.

I sat up quickly upon hearing that, "No." I protested before a cough cut off my words, "Glenn," I breathed, "Help Glenn first."

All eyes were on me in question, but everyone seemed to understand as I laid back down, resting my eyes again. Relief filled my entire being now knowing that Glenn, Sasha, and anyone else who was left was going to be okay. I was going to be okay. A weight was lifted from me, knowing now I could finally relax as everything was falling into place.

Opening my eyes again to look at Daryl, his gaze had never left me, "You're back." I said weakly.

He smiled, "Yeah m' back, angel. And yer gonna be okay." he said quietly, pushing some of my hair back and out of my face.

"You know I'm too stubborn to die."

He chuckled lightly, "Damn straight."

It had been about a week before Hershel would even let me step outside. He wanted me to recover fully before being around everybody else, and I haven't had any human contact other than him in a whole seven days. I had briefly seen Maggie and Glenn since they were in the same cellblock that I was in with Glenn still recovering, but that was it.

After Daryl and the others came back with the meds, he wouldn't let us see each other for the soul purpose so no one else would get sick. So now I was anxiously waiting for his approval, so I could see everyone again after what felt like an eternity. He held the stethoscope up to my chest, telling me to take deep breaths as he listened to the sound of my lungs. But once he was done checking nearly everything under the sun, he didn't utter a word, silently knowing I was dying for him to say something.

I rolled my eyes at his silence, "Oh, spit it out please!" I exclaimed.

He chuckled before slowly nodding his head, "Well it looks like you're in luck...you're free to go, dear."

I squealed in excitement before quickly wrapping my arms around him in a hug, feeling him laugh again before squeezing me back tightly. I wanted him to know how much I appreciated him always, how I noticed how hard he was working to save not only my life, but everyone else's. And how I knew he would still look after me even though I was completely in the clear.

When we pulled away from one another, he kept his hands on my shoulders to make sure I wouldn't rush right out, "But take it easy, you hear me? Doctor's orders." he said.

"Oh please, I've been taking it easy for a whole week. I think I'll be okay." I assured.

He nodded, giving my shoulders a soft squeeze, "I love you...I just want you safe and healthy. I'm allowed to worry."

My eyes softened as he voiced his concerns and his adoration, leaning back in to hug him once more as if I couldn't help it, "I love you too..." I whispered, "Thank you for just...everything."

"It's my pleasure, dear." he said as he held me tight, before pulling away again to keep his hands securely on my arms as if he was scared to let me go. It warmed my heart at the thought, knowing that he's always cared for me like a daughter, and I couldn't have cherished it more.

"Why're you acting like we're never going to see each other again?" I laughed, "I'm just going outside for a bit."

He nodded, "I know. But be careful, alright. Don't push yourself too hard."

I rolled my eyes slightly, "Yeah, yeah." I muttered while giving his hand a squeeze and standing to my feet, "See you later, old man." I said over my shoulder, hearing him chuckle to himself as I made my way out of cellblock A.

As soon as I stepped outside the prison walls, I instantly felt relieved as I breathed in the fresh air. I always loved being in the sun because of how much happiness it brought me. Being inside for that long didn't exactly do me any good, feeling like an actual prisoner most of the time as I could hardly even stand up on my own without Hershel scurrying to make sure I wouldn't fall on my ass.

"Rose!" 

I turned around when I heard the brief call of my name, seeing Carl and Beth rushing over toward me quickly with excited smiles. My face broke out into a grin of my own when I caught a glimpse of them, opening my arms for them as they both collided into me to give me a giant hug. I hung onto them tightly, slowly realizing how much I had missed them the longer I held them again in my arms.

"Oh, I missed my babies." I muttered as I squeezed them tighter, hearing them both laugh happily.

"We missed you too." Carl said seriously, beginning to pull away.

"I was so worried about you." Beth said as she looked at me now, clear sadness filling her voice as her features contorted in concern.

I shook my head quickly, "Hey, I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me." I said while placing a hand on each of their cheeks.

Whether they realized it or not, they both leaned into my touch the second I reached up, my heart warming at the sight. I knew how concerned they were, but I would rather go through that a million times over than have them be the one to catch the illness. I would have been a nervous wreck, so I was silently grateful that they were perfectly healthy, and not the other way around.

"So, what are you guys doing?" I asked as I pulled away.

Carl shrugged, "Just taking a walk, do you want to come?"

I went to answer, but then my eyes briefly landed on where Daryl and Rick were standing, leaning against a few of the cars as they spoke. "How about I take a raincheck?"

The two of them turned to where I had been staring before giving each other a certain look, Beth starting to make kissy faces at me which caused me to roll my eyes while Carl snickered to himself. "Oh, shut up." I muttered as I pushed her shoulder. "Bye you two!" I called over my shoulder.

"Bye!" they yelled back as they made their way to the field side by side.

I had a bit of pep in my step as I made my way over toward the vehicles, a part of me a bit surprised that they were talking in the first place considering how they left things. But right on cue, as if they could hear my thoughts, they both turned at the same time when they heard me walking up to them, and Daryl wasted no time jogging over the rest of the way.

He quickly picked me up into a hug, leaving me squealing in surprise as I squeezed him tightly around his shoulders. I felt him sway me back and forth a little as my feet still couldn't quite touch the ground, before lowering me back down with his arms still secured around my waist. I had missed him like crazy, wanting to spend every single second with him until the sun went down to make up for the lost time.

"I missed ya so much." he finally said, pulling back slightly to look me in the eye.

"I missed you more." I whispered.

Rick clearing his throat from behind us is what made our heads turn to look over at him at the same time, "You have an audience." he reminded awkwardly.

I huffed out a small laugh before pulling away from Daryl, making my way over towards him to wrap him in a hug as well. He rested his arms across my shoulders as he squeezed me once, "Hey, Rosie." he whispered.

"Hey," I smiled, "Um...since when did you and Daryl make up?" I whispered in his ear.

I heard him chuckle a little, "Well it took a lot of talking, and me telling him I apologized to you and all that. But we're okay."

"Good." I muttered while finally pulling away from him.

"So, how do you feel?" he asked.

"Refreshed," I said simply, "I can't wait to actually do something." I rubbed my hands together excitedly.

Daryl came closer to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, "Well, why don't we get outta here and do somethin. Anythin you wanna do." he suggested.

I raised my eyebrows, "Anything?"

He nodded his head, "Mhm."

I thought about it for a few seconds before a slow smirk was brought onto my face, and I could tell that it made both men a bit nervous. "I don't like that glint in her eye." Rick said.

I smiled as I turned towards Daryl, "I know what I want to do." I spoke confidently.

"Shoot." he said.

"Teach me to drive your motorcycle." I stated without any hesitation.

He stared at me in slight disbelief for a moment, trying to decipher if I was being serious or not before shaking his head, "Nah, no way."

My mouth fell open slightly, "Oh come on! You said anything; that's what I want to do."

"That's really what ya want?" he asked hesitantly, watching as I surely nodded my head.

I had no idea why, but lately I had been itching to get out and ride on Daryl's motorcycle again. However, I wanted to be the one to drive. Though it made me a bit nervous, I couldn't deny that I was excited too, figuring now was a perfect time to learn. I was practically imprisoned for a week straight and I needed to do something.

He sighed and thought about it for a few moments before eventually giving in, "Alright."

I smiled brightly, kissing his cheek as a thank you before moving over towards his bike that was just a few feet away. In all honesty I didn't really know what compelled me to want to learn, but it sounded almost freeing. Although I thought it was funny that I wanted nothing to do with motorcycles in the beginning, and now I wanted to learn how to drive one. My guess could only be it was Daryl's constant bad influence on me. 

Being cooped up in a cell for a week made me realize how much I take for granted. I missed being outside in the sun, I missed having the wind whip me in the face, and I especially missed my family the most. I knew I hadn't taken the time to see all of them yet, but I knew I would eventually when the sun went down, all of us usually gathering around for dinner. My mind wandered to Sasha and Glenn, knowing that he was still recovering as he had a bit more trouble bouncing back. But Maggie was practically glued to his side so I knew he was just fine.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I felt Daryl begin to slow the bike down to a stop in the fairly open road, shutting it off briefly before turning back to look at me over his shoulder, "Alright, this ain't a toy. Ya gotta take this seriously."

I blinked, "Okay, dad."

He narrowed his eyes at me, "M' serious." 

"So am I." I smiled.

He huffed at my sarcastic state, before getting off the bike as I slid myself down to the driver's seat. He then hopped on the back as I glanced down at the handles, trying to get the feel of things before he started to instruct me. I grabbed the two of them hesitantly, knowing already which was the brake versus the clutch from what I've seen Daryl do in the past.

He placed his hands on top of mine and gave me a quick kiss on the side of my head before I felt him pause. I then glanced up in the rearview mirrors, seeing him looking at the back of my head in slight confusion.

"What?" I asked with a tilted head.

He pointed to the small purple clip I had my hair pinned back with, "Where did ya get this?"

I subconsciously touched the back of my hair, "Oh, Maggie gave it to me a few weeks ago. I thought I would pin my hair back today; you like it?" I asked.

He nodded his head, "Mhm, it's pretty." he approved, watching me smile as I turned my attention back towards the bike, hearing his voice become a little more nervous, "Mkay, start it up." he said hesitantly.

I paused momentarily as I tried to remember how, but quickly picked up on it as it roared to life, nodding to myself as I heard Daryl mutter good under his breath. "Alright, ya remember which one is the clutch?" he asked over the sound of the bike. I nodded my head and motioned towards it, "Good," he said again, "So, when ya wanna go, ya let go of the brake slowly and lift the clutch a little."

"Okay," I said to show that I understood, though he could quickly tell by the slight shake in my voice that I was nervous.

He kissed my head again, "It's okay, just trust yerself...and don't kill me."

"Yeah, that's helping." I spoke sarcastically.

He chuckled, "I'm kiddin, you'll do great. Just let go of the brake, lift the clutch a little." he repeated.

I took a breath and nodded before doing exactly what he told me to do. He removed his hands from mine and placed them around my waist to hold on while I slowly let go of the breaks to ease myself into it. The bike began moving pretty slowly, but it was moving. I smiled and got a little more confidence and sped up just the tiniest bit to try and slowly get more comfortable.

But whilst I was speeding up, I accidentally hit the clutch a little too hard and it sped up a lot faster than I wanted it to, and I could feel Daryl fly off of the back at the impact. I gasped in surprise and tried to get control of the bike to check and see if he was okay, but I couldn't turn around to look back without it turning the whole bike right along with me.

Though the seconds of panic didn't linger for very long as I could hear him laughing loudly from behind me, his heavy footsteps following shortly after to try and catch up with me. He hopped back on the second he was close enough while the bike was still going, placing his hands over mine again to get me to hit the brakes slowly to bring it to a stop. We were both laughing wildly as it finally came to a halt, causing me to turn around to glance at him with apologetic eyes.

"I'm so sorry." I breathed as I let out another laugh, covering my face in slight embarrassment.

He chuckled as he gently moved my hands to kiss my forehead, "Don't be sorry darlin, it was yer first time. Ya just gotta practice some more."

"Okay." I sighed, turning back around to try again.

It took some time, but eventually I was driving the bike at a normal speed and didn't kick Daryl off of it in the process. In just those few hours, I had laughed harder than I had in what felt like forever, and it felt good. He really brought out the best in me in ways that I wasn't able to describe.

I couldn't help but notice the way he was looking at me as I drove by on the bike by myself as he watched me from on the grass, with his arms folded over his chest and a proud smile on his lips. But I also didn't miss the lovesick look on his face every time I passed him, but I liked it, and I was pretty positive I looked at him the same damn way. I was glad we got to spend a few hours just enjoying each other's company, while we laughed at the few times I made an ass of myself in the process of learning how to operate the thing that he knew best.

Eventually we headed back to the prison and to my surprise, he let me drive back on my own. To him I was going painfully slow, but I wanted to be careful, cautious as if I would somehow knock him off all over again. 

Once we made it through the gates and up towards the prison, I hopped off first and saw that Daryl was about to follow my actions, but I stopped him. "Ah, wait." I said before holding my hand out for him to take.

He looked confused at first, but then seemed to realize what I was doing and rolled his eyes, taking my hand nonetheless. "I do that for a reason, so ya don't fall on yer ass." he said.

I smirked, "I thought I would be the gentleman for once. Plus I was the one driving, it's only fair."

He rolled his eyes again at my words, placing a kiss on the top of my head before we both turned to see Rick jogging over toward us with a small smile upon seeing our return.

"Hey, how was it?" he asked.

"Good. I didn't crash it." I responded while gesturing to the bike next to us dramatically.

He chuckled, "Good." he spoke with a nod, only turning more serious a second later, "I'm uh...I'm glad you came back when you did, I was actually going to ask your help for something."

Daryl narrowed his eyes a bit in concern, "What's wrong?" 

"I was on my way to tell Tyreese about Carol, but uh... I wanted to have some kind of backup. I don't think he'll freak out again, but just to be safe."

I could feel Daryl tense from next to me, "So, yer willin to put my girl at risk of gettin her ass beat, again? Nah, no way."

I turned to look him in the eye, "Hey, it's fine, I'll do it. Nothing's going to happen. Plus, Rick came by and apologized for everything, we're good." I reminded him.

"Yeah, he told me, but that don't mean I want ya in there." he said.

I shook my head at him, "I'll be fine."

He thought about it for a second, and then probably came to the realization that he couldn't stop me, nodding his head reluctantly in agreement. We then followed Rick, making our way through the prison to try and find Tyreese to break the news to him about who actually killed Karen and David. I didn't know how he would take it, but I hoped that since she was gone, he would be a little more relieved.

My mind went back to Daryl and how he was taking the loss of Carol. I knew that they were closer friends, and I could only imagine how hard it was to hear that she was gone. But he never seemed to mention it, to an outsider he didn't seem to be affected by it at all. Though I knew him better than that.

I gently nudged his side as we followed behind Rick, "How are you doing...about Carol?" I asked hesitantly, keeping my voice down.

He only shrugged, "Sucks...but I'll be alright." he said as he nudged my shoulder in return.

I nodded in understanding as I could see he didn't want to talk about it much. I knew he was hurt about what Rick did, I could see it in his eyes, but at the same time I knew he understood too. Otherwise he would be on his bike as we speak looking for her to come back.

The three of us made our way down to the tunnels now, Rick calling out into the space, "Tyreese! You down here?"

There was a moment of silence before he heard him call back, "Rick? That you?"

We all then followed the sound of his voice, seemingly at the same time he started to come out of the darkness. He was taken aback a little when his eyes landed on me, probably shocked that I was out of cellblock A as I hadn't seen him since he had taken me.

He smiled warmly, "Hey Rose...you feeling better?" he asked.

"Yeah, Hershel finally let me go." I smiled.

He nodded, "Good," he said before looking back to the two men beside me, "Look you guys gotta see this." he said, pointing behind him.

"Can we take a beat? There's something we need to talk about." Rick said.

"It can wait, come on." he said urgently while heading back the way he came.

We all looked at each other cautiously before following the man back into the room where he came from. It was dark and the men had to raise their flashlights for us to see what he wanted to show us, but once my eyes landed on it, I couldn't help but let my mouth fall open a little. There was a dead rat up against the wall, with its insides spilling out of it.

I heard Daryl mutter, "The hell?" as he stepped closer to get a better look, shining his light over the bloody surface.

"I was just looking around, I needed...answers. Then I found this," Tyreese explained while pointing to the dead rat, "Same person who killed Karen and David did this. Remember the rats at the fence? They show up the same day she was killed, we got a psychopath living with us. We gotta find him Rick, and I'm not going to sleep until we do."

I almost wanted to laugh a little at Tyreese's detective skills, but I didn't. The rats had absolutely nothing to do with Karen and David and at this point I think he was just trying to find something, anything to lead him to who was responsible for killing them. None of us knew who was doing this with the rats, it was all too weird.

"Tyreese," Rick started calmly, "Whoever did this, I don't think that's who killed Karen."

Tyreese looked at him confused, "Why?" was all he could ask.

But before anyone could say another word, a large booming sound rang out from right outside the prison walls and the concrete around us crumbled a little at the impact. I jumped in surprise at the sudden explosive sound, growing confused and uneasy as my heart started to beat out of my chest. My eyes panned up to see Daryl who was already looking at me with the same panicked expression and I knew we both seemed to have the same sinking feeling.

"No..." I muttered.

~ Thanks for reading!

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[cherrysoulth]

Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 3: The road

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount:

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

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Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading this huge chapters🧡

Scavenging with any group that leaves Sanctuary, occupies most of your days. What's outside is your world, where you know how to move, how to play. It's almost like you are trying to avoid reality, the view of what's going on in the lower floors of the building. Turning a blind eye to the Saviours' abuse towards people is the only way you could do so. Not being there. Still, it’s like it haunts you, seeing from the corner of an eye, how it gets perpetrated.

Negan has to agree with it when it's so common. There's no way he doesn't see or know, the Saviours' use of physical punishment to afront any sort of confrontation and the constant abuse of power when it comes to belongings. Your thoughts and actions twist to centre on winning him; the big bad wolf's trust. Without that, there's nothing you can do for these people or his wives. 

Most of your productive working time is around him as if he wants to be glued to you. He will ask your opinion on random things, sometimes important decisions that require some knowledge. It reminds you of when you were your mum's right hand and she would let you make decisions to evaluate your qualities as a possible successor. In his own words: he values your opinion as much as Simon's or any of the other high ranks, admitting it comes from your stay outside by yourself. He says it blows his mind that you've managed to survive on your own, remarking it has nothing to do with you being a woman.

It surprises him so much he asks more than once if it was, in fact,  six months because that's a lot of time to be on your own. The first time, you talked about the scars on your body, where they came from, and who or what caused them. Although you told him there were a few you couldn’t recall. You knew there was one he hadn't seen and that's the only one you avoid talking about.

The second time, it was more like asking for a reminder and when he asked about your group, you just didn't feel good talking about it. Surprisingly, he didn't push it further.

In the beginning, you thought his appreciation excluding your pretty face was touching, since he had been flirting with you from the moment he set eyes on you. At some point, you even expected him to be trying to push you into marrying him like he's done with his golden-caged birds. But on second thought, you figured out he's interested in understanding how your mind functions, for easier control since you have nothing to lose. It wasn’t a surprise but the idea still bothers you.

Inside the Sanctuary you feel the breath in the air coming from that many people living together. Different mindsets cluttered in the same space like a bee's nest, just less alike because the ones protecting the working bees are also their bullies. 

Being with people after such a long time alone doesn't seem to be your forté but being alone again is too fucked up to consider it an option. The world has become a deadly dangerous place with all those non-dead walking around and trying to take a chunk out of you. Although the survivors can be even worse. 

Here the rules matter, which seems to be engraved with fire in these people's minds. Negan keeps people alive in a system that's tough but works. Kind of. It reminds you of those documentaries you used to watch on TV about modern slavery in various countries, that made it sound too far to even suggest it could happen in yours. But here you are, observant of those images in the very place you live, just a few feet from you. 

Leaving that aside, you can admit freely that it has been partly luck that's kept you alive. Like it is with anyone else because anything can kill you these days. That, along with your ability to avoid people, if you're honest, is probably a big part of the equation. 

You'd say your aiming is your best quality and it's probably the best skill one needs to protect itself and hunt with or without guns. You are also very fast but when it comes to the rest of your skills, you'd say you are just about average. Incomparable to your mum who was awesome in everything she did. 

You tried to learn everything you could from her but she was exceptional. Losing her and your brother at the same time, destabilized your whole world and vision of it. That was partially why you left your group and wandered around aimlessly. You couldn't see things so clearly anymore, the mourning blinding your best judgement and decision-making. The memories of the days after their death are still confusing to this day.  

When you found yourself lonely and realized that was going to be the rest of your life, some sort of mad need for socialization took over you but boy, the things you saw on the road. Soon you understood it wasn't safe anymore to "apply" for another group's membership. But then you had to make peace somehow with your new reality. Going back to your group just wasn't an option because you didn't find them where they were supposed to be. They had probably waited long enough and thought you weren't going to come back or that you were the one dead already. 

That was until the mall happened. 

It did not seem a bad option after taking your security measures. You even unblocked the back doors as a safe passage if another group crossed you. But you trusted too much in your luck going to the first floor. In big places, the rules were to enter, pick up the goods as fast as you could and leave. At least, while being alone. 

Now, even with a short group of four, you feel kind of safe. Well, it's almost completely safe. Becoming a Saviour does affect one's ego, how could it not, when it makes people feel like they are on top of the world. Invincible. As if the walkers were just a minor problem, a day after day thing but even with that sensation building up in one's chest, nobody puts their guard down. That would be really stupid.

"Do Saviours get bit often?" You ask John, one of the guys in your group. Even if his name is also your brother's, they are nothing alike.

"Nah... It doesn't happen a lot. You worried?" he asks you, without stopping what he is doing. You mutter a simple, "Not really," and he smirks.

Your group is out of the safe zone, looking for supplies or anything interesting that could be of use. Maybe a well-positioned building for another outpost or another group to discipline for Negan. He did not want you on the search parties for the "problematic community" that had been running for the last week and a half. "New arrivals don't get those privileges, pretty face," he said to you in front of your group of newcomers, when you asked. 

You think that at least you are not the only fresh blood in the nest. Having all eyes set on you, people expecting things, good or bad, maybe both, sucks. 

In fact, even if the other Saviours found them and there was a plan going on, your group was not on the first line or in it at all that matters. You were told that almost every Saviour was going to be at the "final show" but Negan still didn't trust you enough to put you in certain positions outside. 

'Dude, get over it, get that stick out your ass. The flamethrower thing was a mistake!' you thought when Negan said: "You will stick to the basics until I know for sure you won't do the shot to send people running for the hills".

It all becomes routine, or sort of, as new days go by. You wake up before the clock in the mornings and take a shower in the commons, chit-chatting with Arat and Norma as you brush your teeth. There are other women around but these two are kind of the ones with whom you get along better. 

One morning, Arat praised your work and said you'll go up quickly if you keep working hard and giving useful input. One of the girls in the showers jokes about it being easier when you bend on your knees privately for Negan, a few laughs follow the statement, to which you spit out the toothpaste and calmly leave your toothbrush on the counter. Walking towards the shower, you hear Arat mutter an "oh-uh" although she doesn't stop you. Opening the curtain of who you know has said it, you grab her by the hair and bang her head against the wall, breaking her nose, then watching as she slides down the wall, moaning in pain. 

"For people like you, men treat women like shit," you say before spitting on her, then Arat makes her presence known beside you by putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around. 

"She's learned her lesson," she mutters. "You won't say a word about this. Keep your mouth shut next time you feel like offending another woman for being better than you," she tells the one bleeding.

"I wasn't going to hit her again." You don't even feel right about it. You've just lost your temper too easily for your liking. Leaving aside the fact her type of attitude is the kind you despise. 'Sometimes people need to learn the hard way' you tell yourself unconvincingly. 

The incident did not leave that bathroom, although there were a lot of witnesses.

At lunchtime, you sit with Arat to eat some sort of spaghetti bolognese with meatballs in her apartment with Norma and Donna, another Saviour who is seemingly in some kind of relationship with Arat, when a knock on the door calls your attention. A low-ranking Saviour, just like you, opens it when given permission and informs them they have the Alexandrians under their radar. Negan is claiming Arat for planning and the three of you are left to eat alone. 

That same afternoon, while you are looking at the maps in your room memorizing the future attack, Negan's plan over the Alexandrians starts to roll because a bunch of them are leaving the community in an RV. It's an ambush, prepared like any other but it has coincided with someone running off from Sanctuary and a search party already there. The outposts near were fast to move and play their part, following the previous preparations. 

The plan is divided into phases. First step: you all had to wait until one of the lookouts that are surrounding Alexandria gave the intel on a number leaving the fortress. Second step: block the roads and get them to surrender. This part is already done.

There are two options after that: One; they will come out, in which case someone will have to bring their leader or you will go find him or her and put them all in their place. Someone has to die, "unavoidably" according to Negan, to prove the point that no one messes with him and his Saviours. He also added that he's being magnanimous as people didn't really know who they were messing with, so he isn't going to just take an eye for an eye. But once the rules are settled, there will be no place for mistakes. 

At this point, you are sure that isn't a subject of discussion and nobody has played the devil's advocate. You won't because you can easily understand why he's going to do that. Protecting his people first, saving people later, as it has to be. 

And option Two; they won't surrender, which would lead them to the same end but with Negan going harder on them. 

The plan is set and turns out you are indeed a part of it. Not all the Saviours are going to have the "privilege", as he pointed out, but you are, even though he originally said you wouldn't. And you are one hundred per cent sure it's to prove to you that no one can go against Negan's will. You hear a knock on your door and he enters after your "Come in".

"So, you've really been diving into your work here, huh?" he says, closing the door with a grin. "I have no problem with that, but I gotta say… Not being able to find you after your shifts…After what happened between us...Man, I would say, you are avoiding me. Not cool." he says practically into your ear, with his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.

"Guilty as charged," you admit. You have been, indeed, trying to avoid being left alone with him. You thank all the gods of the world for his discretion on the subject as you would probably slap him.

He had shown you the skilled lover he was, over and over, until you were spent under him, with both your bodies covered in sweat. Needless to say, you were impressed. 

As pleasure subsided, you were able to find your brain again and once he groaned on top of you and let his body fall to the side, something else surprised you. When he lay next to you in the tiny bed and pulled you to him, cuddling you against his chest. 

You fell asleep for a few minutes while twirling softly on the hairs of his chest, as he drew circles on the leg resting across his hips. When you woke up he was still there, his caress, tickling you awake. After kissing you softly, almost sweetly, he finally stood to get dressed and left with a courtesy, stating that management wasn't going to sort itself out.

After he left, you stood regardless of your naked form, to open the windows and refresh the air in the room, it came in fast and cold and although you welcomed it, you felt the iciness in your soul too. 

Did you let your attraction for him cross lines for what Sherry said, maybe out of fear? You weren't sure how you felt about him. Somewhere between attracted and concerned, and that wasn't exactly a good thing. The way he treated people was absolutely not your cup of tea. He is the kind of guy you would usually hate to be around.

Were you just having fun? Or were you expecting something to come out of it? This was something that was leading you to a dead end and you felt the need to run away like you always did when it came to men, sex, love and its relatives. Giving him what he wanted could keep away the idea of making you a caged bird from entering his head but it would take off the importance of whatever you did in the Saviours. Everybody would just see that you were giving it a try with the big bad wolf. 

It's all put in a delicate balance and you know it will fall apart. 

"This is not a good idea, Negan." you voice out.

"What in the holy hell are you talking about?" you've almost forgotten that you are facing the maps displayed on the wall.

"Everything," he raises a brow not believing what he is hearing. "This plan. You and me. Everything is fucked up, Negan. I'm not gonna be your lover and that's what I would be as I'm clearly not your wife." you say in a soft tone, just talking calmly. He opens his mouth but you cut him off before he says a word. "I have no interest in becoming one. I'm a woman of action. I have a clue why everybody follows your ass but I'm not falling in line in all ways. No. My life stays mine and I'm not even sorry for that." you had the intention to say it all calmly but at the end, you hear the heated tone in your words. It seems to happen too often lately, you are tense and restless. As if you were the one doing something wrong. "I do my fucking job, follow the rules and I'm a fucking damn loyal bastard to you because that's how I am. But I'm not going to let your--our." you can't put all the blame on him, "attraction, reduce my qualities as your new bed-warmer. I'm a fucking valid person for a bunch of reasons. I hope you can understand that." you say as you turn around slowly, having felt him cut the distance and his warmth behind you, expecting that sour feared face you've seen more than a couple of times, since being at the sanctuary. Surprisingly, there's a toothy grin with a furrowed brow, something you read as amusement.

"Wow. Yeah, I do! Don't cha worry darlin' we can keep this fuckin' hot thing going on between us as our little secret. That's no fuckin' problem for me." he speaks in a low whispery tone above your nose, meeting your eyes. "But no, you, like everybody else here, are mine," he says, brushing off the importance of the subject and yet putting emphasis on the possessive statement. You can't believe he said it just like that as if people were play-things and nothing more but decide that you will touch that subject at another point. "But what the fuck do you mean that you don't agree with the plan…" he says, having a mood swing like he usually does. That is a good quality for making people fear your reaction but you are way too built up to shut your mouth. Maybe because of his reference to you being his. 

"I think the way you're doing some things will backfire at us, the Saviours, right in the ass, Negan."  his demeanour turns dominant and stern, stormy eyes subject to objectification. "When you push people too hard, especially the ones that do what they've done to our people, they tend to unite and fight back till their last breath. You act as if people are belongings that don't know right from wrong-"

"I beg your pardon," he interrupts. At this precise moment, you know, you've fucked up. "Are you actually questioning me?" he gives you the look, the one that makes the toughest man look at their feet. You included. "Who are you?"

"Negan," you say, raising your head to meet his eyes again, obedient like a puppy. Experience has shown you that keeping your mouth shut, especially when you have not, is the best way to survive. You will do whatever you want because your life is yours, no matter what he says, you won't let others decide for you but sometimes, the best way to get away with what you want, or just simply get away from a difficult situation, is to make others believe that you agree with what they want. When people think that you're submissive they don't expect you to take opposite decisions from what they would want you to do.

"Then you will want what's best for you. Isn’t that right?" he says, still serious and raw. There is no possible objection to that statement. 

 "Yes, Negan," you give him the puppy eyes, so he smiles at you.

"I think we should take a ride. Just for the pleasure of it," You get scared for a second, he starts to take leave without waiting for your answer but stops. "That was a suggestion, by the way. Unless you're scared of being alone with me, darlin'." 

"Is this a date?" you ask him with an edge of sarcasm inside your words, relaxing as he does seem to have genuine intentions.

"Yeah." he gives you in a low breathy tone, like a whisper, while wrinkling his nose and showing his teeth, then bites his lower lip seductively. You chuckle.

"I think I might pass," you reply, putting on a poker face and he raises his eyebrows surprised. "Just kidding, let's get out of here, salt and pepper," he chuckles at the pet name. "I drive…" you say while you take the leave in front of him.

"No way I'm letting you drive my car!" he chuckles but you stop to look at him, brows arched.

"I swear to God, Negan, if you pull up that shit that a girl can't drive-" you are not even joking, it pisses you off. Men and women can work out the same things, it all depends on each individual's qualities, not the gender.

"Hey! Calm your tits down. Nobody swings Lucille, nobody drives my car, it’s as simple as that. Now, if you want to drive, you will have to find yourself a machine that works. My car, it's just mine," he says arching a brow in a way to say 'I don't want to have to repeat myself'.

"Got it," you say and start your walk to get to the garage. You jumping inside Negan's car raises some eyebrows but suddenly you don't care. 

You haven't noticed how much time you've spent in your room looking at those maps until a Saviour opens the garage door to let Negan's car out of the building, the sun already heading west, its light less intense, the temperature less hot. Perfect timing.

Out of the safe area, as it's circled on the maps, your head rests over your arm on the window breathing the fresh air as you close your eyes. The trip was definitely needed, for a second it's like this isn't the end of the world at all. Just two people on a date. Like when your worst problems, from a first world person where to pay your bills and maybe what to do on Saturday night. Now, all that seems so stupid, such nonsense. 

The car runs as smooth as new and you guess there's a mechanic at home. 'So cool. I should probably investigate the building more, I've been too busy working and hiding to know all that's offered.'

"So. Where do you want us to go, sweetheart?" you hear in the background, too taken by the moment. "Earth to Alice. Where are you, dollface?" he asks, almost with a genuine look.

"I'm right here, babe," you say, doing an impression of him.

"Are you trying to be cool?" he asks with a chuckle.

"I am already, pops" You turn on the music on his player. "I think that we should ride to a place that we don't know, to a place where no one has seen us before" sounds filling the vehicle, surprisingly, being that this is his car. "I'm thinking you and I better just go with the flow. The last thing that we should do is go slow..." you sing along, forgetting for a second he's asked you a question. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow, and then, looking at the front he accelerates. "A really adequate song, right? I didn't expect you to hear this kind of music."

"Arat said you might like it," he says with a smirk. 

"Wait. This was planned," you say matter-of-fact, changing your position on the seat to look at him directly. He smiles, looking at you. 'Of course, it is, he could not just leave like that for the sake of it. He's the leader, for Christ's sake.' you conclude. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." That's the last thing he says on the road.

He stops the car in the middle of a set of crops that has gone wild, the golden plants tickling in your fingers as you walk around enjoying the view. There is a forest a few yards away at the left, close enough for you to see a squirrel jumping up a tree. 'That would have been dinner… this is her lucky day.' 

"What is this place, planning on building a farm for retirement?" you ask, struggling to understand why he chose this place to travel to. It's beautiful, you have to admit it, the view extends for miles, so much that you can't see the details at the end of it.

"Don't be impatient. You'll see it pretty soon." He leans on the car and takes a packet of cigarettes from the side pocket of his leather jacket. He takes one and turns it. "A smoke?" he leaves the filter of a cigarette showing for you to take it, as an offer.

"No, thanks. Never did, I have no intention to start now that I need my lungs to run," The smile coming to that statement confirms he already knew it. You lean on the car close to him, you know he does not smoke that often for the smell of his skin and his breath. "What are we looking at?"

"Damn, woman! Patience…" he says, his pretty smile holding the cigarette with the side of his lips. You fake a pucker followed by a naughty smile that makes him snort and roll his eyes in amusement.

Closing your eyes when the soft breeze warmed up by a sunny day hits your face. You keep them closed enjoying the moment trying to engrave this memory in your mind to hold onto when things go wrong. For the future, if there is any. The warmth against your face, the smell of the trees, the plants that are tickling your legs over the trousers... and Negan, like a second sun to this earth, giving life, taking it, volcanic, warm, symbolic… 

In other circumstances you two would probably never have crossed. He was from somewhere else, he sure had a wife or at least a girlfriend, there is no way he was alone. None of his actual wives were with him before Sanctuary so maybe he lost her on his way through surviving. The world had always been like this: one day you had someone but you could lose it the next; an accident, a murder, a disease… people were always fragile, even if they felt invincible. What went down, only accentuated that fact. It showed the truth within, what was held in the shadows, the taboos. At least in most people. In others, it surfaced the feel of the community, the need to survive together, and the strength of grouping up. 

You think you are somewhere in the middle, far from perfection. You are inclined to protect the weak. Good, noble while others are good to you.  Savage, wild, fearless… cruel if there's someone evil, despicable. Negan stirs your darkness with some acts as much as he stirs the light inside you. It's a balance that can easily be consumed by the darkness. Everything points to it. Your mentality with the time has grown patient and yet, you live in the moment. 

This is a beautiful moment to live in, so you live it. 

You hear the sound of his breath exhaling the smoke of his slowly consumed cigarette, enjoying it. With that mundane action and your previous knowledge of him, you notice that, despite his attitude of walking on air, he still makes the most of everything he does. You've seen him do that with the wrong stuff that has you on edge but you realize, it's not that he's a bad person, it's just him doing what you are; living the moment and owning his shit with no regrets. 'Maybe we are not so different after all.'

A new breeze brings his scent to you, now mixed with the nicotine but still his. You memorize it; the touch of his body on your side is warm and makes you feel less lonely, even if it’s unreal. 'We are born alone and we die alone,' has been your mantra. You notice that you have been starting to feel the excitement you normally do when you're around someone you have a crush on. Knowing if you let it continue like that, even if it’s just for a second, it will surely become a car crash for you. As much as he is the sun and you can need him, you might get burned if you have too much. 

You were never emotionally attached to the boys you slept with or if you ever did you killed it as soon as it appeared, leaving some heartaches in your past, or maybe not, you always ignored it. What you don't know won't hurt you. 'This can't be different' you tell yourself.

You open your eyes when he clears his throat, without knowing how much time you have had them closed. His gaze is on you but your eyes are focused solely on the horizon where the sunset, one of the most beautiful ones you've ever seen, starts to turn the sky into a spectacle of colors. As if the sun itself has set the clouds on fire above you. You feel as if the tears confined inside you are going to spill rivers on your cheeks, moved by the most beautiful thing you have seen in a long, long time. 

Watching the sunset was a thing you used to do with someone very special -before ice covered your heart-, it was in those moments that you stayed silent and the world seemed to be only for the two of you. The rest of the world disappears, making all the noises muffled as if you were deaf and the only thing that mattered was the sky burning. 

Life has become so painful since then and no one you've ever cared about can enjoy this anymore, they can't see any of this anymore. You feel the knot in your throat and you start to freak out. No crying in front of others. Never.

"You know how to get a lady into your bed…" you say cheekily trying to avoid him thinking you are into sentimental stuff, not that you are these days. He smiles almost sadly, he has his eyes lost in the sky, melancholic. 'You two are not that different. He's lost someone too. Who is he thinking about?' 

"What can I say? I'm a gentleman," he says, in a flirty tone, taking another whiff of smoke to his lungs. That’s when you notice he's taken the chance to put his arm around your waist, while you are lost in the view and he uses it to get you near him. The hand starts moving lower and with it, a naughty smile appears on his face.

"That hand has dishonest intentions, gentleman," you say rolling your eyes and in a quick move he puts you up on the bonnet of the car. You give him room to slide his body between your thighs. "Oh! Your body acts like a hooker." He laughs at that. He's so warm, so sexy. You escape the kiss he wants to give you, to go to his neck, smelling him while you give him soft bites on his hot skin. It drives you crazy. You let your back fall against the metal and you cover your eyes with the back of your hand.

"Jesus, if you ain't a vision.." he mutters in a little husky tone. You exhale, hearing a chuckle and one of his thumbs caressing your lower lip. Your arms slide above your head as he leans forward on top of you with eyes that show the desire burning inside of him just like the sunset that you have just seen. You want him to show you. Closing your ankles behind him and your arms on his neck, you pull him against your body. When his mouth finds yours,  his lips capturing yours, it's as if time stops. The way his lips press and move against yours, his tongue moving slowly just at the entrance of your mouth, makes you light-headed. Your body itches for more, absorbed by the feeling of him. His lips move down to your chin, then neck, an expert hand pulling your hips against his with a single move. Pressing his erection against your core, your breath catches, and your lungs almost fail to work.

In a fast move, he unties your belt and takes off your trousers, faster than you've ever seen a man capable of. 'He must have had a lot of practice,’ you guess. He puts a hand on your waist pulling you towards him again as his parted lips meet yours. Then with just one hand he unties his belt and zips down his trousers. The hand over your waist trails down to your pelvis sneaking inside your panties, fingers testing the waters to make sure you are ready for what comes next. You are. 

He pulls his trousers down slightly to make room for his member to make an appearance and simply slides your panties to the side. A word crosses your head 'Condom' and as if he can read your mind, he takes something from his wallet, and puts it within his lips, his teeth helping to break the package. With a fast movement of both hands, he has it on.

"So you were ready, huh?" you suggest, under his complete control. He's making you dance his waltz. 'But damn if it ain't the hottest one.' At this very moment, it doesn't matter who holds the power. He nods with raised brows and a smirk.

He smiles as his tip finds your slit, moving slowly up and down to coat up your entrance for him. His slide-in fills you comfortably in three swift motions, the craving for him growing as he stills inside you, observing your expression. He clearly finds something he likes, because he starts to move increasingly at each moan his hard rock elicits from you and you love the little growls and grunts that your constricting walls rip out of him. 

You raise your upper body to let your lips meet, your initial tenderness is soon followed by a soft bite and pull of his lower lip, increasing the sounds of flesh meeting flesh as that little touch of sin motivates him. Your lips run over his neck and a bite finds his jaw, making him grunt as both his hands press his hips against yours. Your walls tense as you edge closer to your orgasm. Suddenly the static of the radio on the dashboard distracts you from reaching the sky, although Negan does not cease until he hears the words. 

"Negan, we have them." Negan's face turns towards the car, his passionate expression now gone and something different in his eyes, something dark, something that sends shivers through your spine as he pulls away. The shadow of a premonition that something bad is about to happen. 

A quiet moment extends as Negan climbs off of you, his brown orbs lighting a little when his eyes meet yours again, making you relax slightly. He tidies himself before zipping up his pants to go and pick up the radio. The mood he displays as he answers contrasts completely with what you've seen and felt exuding from him only seconds before. With the radio in his right hand, the other one finds your waist and he kisses your forehead. 

"I'm sorry, babe," Negan says in a low apologetic tone. "We will pick this up where we leave it after this shit's sorted." Right after his words, he kisses your neck, giving closure to the moment with a deep kiss, pressing his body against yours. His own needs unsatisfied, he sighs after the kiss in annoyance. You just nod and give him an understanding smile. 'He is a charming bastard. He had you under him the day after picking you up. God damn you if you fall in love with him… This is just fun for him. He already has the rest: housewife, paramour. Six times.'

Telling yourself you'll manage the feelings as you've always done, you decide he is convenient for survival, sex is just that; sex. He's the hottest man you've seen in years, counting before all of this, the chemistry unavoidably obvious and you need to feel it, you need to live it. As well as being a dangerous man to go playing around with feelings that can tear your life apart if something goes wrong. 'Mistakes with men like him are paid with blood and tears.'

Negan speeds up on the empty road, you feel the smooth roar of the car as it settles at seventy miles per hour. There is no other authority than him now, so, who will tell him not to? You would, if you didn't find it amusing.

As much as you don't agree with the kidnapping, killing, humiliating and basically robbing of other communities' supplies, you understand the plan that will go on tonight. Besides your late protest about how Negan pushes people to their limits, you get why this is happening, and why he says he is being magnanimous with this group. Indeed, if someone killed that many numbers, even just killing one of the people you cared about, you would want hell to fall upon those offenders. 

Looking at the plan from an objective and subjective point of view, it is epic. The number of members participating, cutting roads, redirecting them to the hot spot… it's by far intimidating. Negan has power and many subjects to follow his orders, whatever he wants to do, gets done, and that's quite bone-chilling. His domains extend day by day and those who say one day everything might belong to him are not far from the truth. He is a warlord bending over every community on his path but the little thing that seems to escape his comprehension is the limits between showing power and humiliation. That will backfire on him some day no matter how many people stand at his back. He's not a God, he's just a human, bone and flesh that can bleed and die. 

For some reason, that worries you. It's not just that the myth that holds together the Sanctuary, would die, leaving the civilians to some merciless Saviours, it's unsure if Negan's not there his lieutenants will keep his rules and guidelines. There's something else. You've been around him enough hours a day, received enough praise for your mind or good choices, seen enough sneers and chuckles, enough reward and punishment for the guy to grow on you. Thankfully not romantically but in an appreciative manner. Maybe some weird admiration.

He's built something from scratch, kept people alive, and created a system and rules to keep people safe. Everything that so many other communities have struggled with, even when things were easier, he's kept it tight and together. That, at least earns him some respect from you. The primal instincts he awakes in you are just a that’s a whole new ballgame.

When you arrive, the sun has fully disappeared leaving its place to the stars and the moon. His men are following the plan down to the last inch, you can only see the cars parked and the mentioned RV in the middle of the clearing. A mulled-haired guy, beaten up, stays on his knees with a Saviour at his back pointing a rifle at him, to the touch of the artificial light. Simon's been radioing in with every detail he could get his paws on, so you know this one's the driver and the others are moving on foot inside the forest. You are just too many for them to stand a chance and you wouldn't like to be in their place. 

Simon notices you getting out of the car along with Negan, and smiles, although you are sure he did not see Negan kissing your temple before that. You guess he’s just figured it out,  Negan hasn’t gone mouthy on the subject before you talked with him previously. Simon is his right-hand man and you guess he's confident too, to occupy such position. Even with that, it pisses you off that he knows what you've been doing as if it was his business, wanting to erase that mustache-smile off his face. 

Negan, being the leader, walks in front of you, looking at the stuff the Saviours have found on the trailer, displayed on the trunk of a car for Negan to see. As he goes to inspect the goods you stay behind, leaning on the same car as Simon. "I dare you to smile like that again and see what happens…" flows through your lips, giving him a side-eye, without giving a chance for his response you move closer to Negan. The smile on your lips is hidden by the dim illumination from Simon's sudden wide eyes, although at this very second you can feel him burning holes on your back.     

"They are like little mice running directly to the cat's mouth. And. I. Am! The big-sized cat!" says Negan with his characteristic toothy smile, getting your attention and Simons' too. "I almost feel pity for them!" he adds with a burst of laughter that ends in a high-pitched squeak of his breathing, like he always does when he finds something very funny. Simon and the Saviours present, laugh back. You can tell that there is something off in him, you just cannot tell what it is. 'Surely you are not that obedient, right, Simon? Maybe you are hiding something,' you think for yourself. Not even a smile appears on your face, knowing someone is going to die tonight. You might understand why it's going to be done, you might even agree with it, but enjoyment is far from what you feel about it. Negan looks at you with an arched brow, his smile fades just a little before he adds. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Alice, come 'ere." And you obey. "Time to prove yourself," he says, lowering his tone a little. "You wait here and be a good Saviour. Simon! You know what to do," he says, as he gets inside the RV.  

"Right! Let's get this set up," Simon makes you put a van full of bullet holes near the RV, some other cars are parked facing the center, then Negan turns off the lightning and they move the Alexandrian further. Just after, Simon organizes your positions, patting your shoulder to pity you for what you might see. There's an echoed sound of whistles through the forest and you join them as you have been commanded, walking to the back of the semicircle of Saviours, to watch for any walker attracted by the sound. 

There is nowhere to run for the poor souls that are about to be punished. No one can cross the Saviors and get away with it, that, you have clear. There is punishment. There is and will always be punishment. 

Finally, seconds later, the rest of the group arrive at the meeting point carrying a stretcher, just to find themselves surrounded by the Saviors coming from everywhere around the forest and the incessant whistle. Negan's trademark whistle. There is nowhere to hide, their RV parked in front of them, now the lights of the cars turning on, blinding them for a second while the Saviours that followed them make the closing wall of the circle. Looking like deers surrounded by wolves, fear of the unknown is written all over their faces. The general whistles start to fade, yours too. Then a thick silence is made.

"Good. You made it. Welcome to where you were going." says Simon, walking forward. You observe one more time behind you, other Saviours keeping their ears up for walkers or other guests but it has to look like you all are just watching a show. "We will take your weapons," he adds, extending his arms vaguely to the rest of the team, then points a gun to one of them, a kid with a wounded eye. "Now." 

'Very brave, Simon…' you think.

"We can talk about-" speaks up a man with a peppery beard and really strong southern accent, who seems to finally understand the situation they had put themselves into.

"We're done talking. Time to listen," throws Simon in a meaningful tone. Some men approach the group to take the weapons and he walks to the kid. "That's yours, right?" he closes in on the child, adopting a menacing stance. "Yeah, it's yours," adds before clipping on the kid sheriff hat. Regaining his posture he commands. "Okay! Let's get her down and get you all on your knees. Lots to cover."

"Hold up," says a redhead that looks like he could definitely put up some resistance. Big muscles and a fierce look that also exudes from his very being. 'A soldier,' you can guess. You've seen enough of them to be able to tell them apart. "We got it."

"Sure, sure," replies Simon, making a signal for them to proceed. They help a short-haired woman that looks very sick to get to her knees in the center. For the others, it takes a little longer to obey. "Gonna need you on your knees," replies Simon starting to get impatient. "Dwight!"

"Yeah," answers the blonde fellow, dutifully.

"Chop-chop," Simon commands, to the expectant man. 

"Come on. You got people to meet," Dwight moves from behind the crowd and advances to the bullet-holed van. The first person you see shocks you to the bone. 'Daryl!' you freeze. 'He's alive!? What is he doing here!? Oh god, I moved that van!' So many questions are building in your head that you start to spiral. The last time you saw Daryl the world was guided by less hard rules than survival, or at least that was the image portrayed by everything surrounding you. Times when you were way younger and with fewer experiences in life over your shoulders. Those were by far, sweeter times.

You met Daryl when you were twenty and he was twenty-seven, by chance, getting into the worst-looking bar in your area with your "friends". They were in one of those reckless moods and they called you for a girls' night, although they were nearer to Daryls' age than yours. 'Why am I with them again? Oh, yeah! My mum wants me to be nice to them because they are her new friends' daughters.' you told yourself each time. You ended up sticking with them, though you were a lone wolf and by far very different from them. 

"If you want to feel like you are wild, or whatever, we could go for a bungee jump. You are just going to find a bunch of regular people chilling, I'm telling you," you told them that afternoon. You knew that to be a fact but they did not listen. 

When you opened the door because somehow you were the head of the group, although you weren't even allowed inside by age, your eyes found Daryl instantly. You knew right in that second, the guy was just a bit odd in his group. A quiet guy, in a group that looked like the kind of pricks you would like to kick their asses. Troublemakers, busting up fights. The kind with 'I'm a prick because my parents neglected me and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with my life,’ as a life excuse. 

Merle, Daryl's brother, called you and your friends over to sit with them, as they spotted you at the door and the impulsive girl of the group was walking there before you could stop her. The rest had to run after her, looking at each other with longing of going home.

'There are only two ends to this night,' you thought. You walked behind them with your sassy face and took your seat at Daryl's side. He looked at you sideways, not sure of what to do or not sure what you had in mind with him.

"Come on Daryl! Say something to the girl. You might finally get your ugly ass laid today, boy!" Merle laughed at his brother. Daryl, annoyed, flicked his tongue. He seemed bothered about something. You thought he was cute but did not say anything to him and instead glared at Merle. "Come on darling, you know why four girls have come here alone, dressed like that. And if you don't, well, you are too innocent to be here." 

Your clothes were quite normal, according to the fashion trends, not that you should have apologized if they weren't. Your sweetheart neckline sleeveless skater black dress was over your knees. Your friends wore similar things, showing more or less thigh, but that was not his business anyway.

"Dressed like what? We are not on display for your entertainment. Asshole." your voice slid through in his direction, venom staining your tongue, ready to bite at the wrong move. Your friends looked at you as if you just poked a bear with a stick.

"Be careful how you speak to me, girl. We are having fun! Don't be such a party pooper!" growled Merle, as if his sexist comment was not a serious thing that was meant to offend.

"How I-But you just-" you almost said, taking it way personal.

"Let's go for a drink," interrupted Daryl, with a calm tone, standing up. You didn't know he did it for your sake that night because Merle would, no doubt, have slapped you. You liked the fact he finally said something to you and gladly followed him. "You guys should leave, this is not your place," he said when you took a seat on a stool, looking behind to see his brother getting touchy with one of your "friends", she gave you an ok signal and a wink. You turned around rolling your eyes.

"Well, thanks for the advice but I'm not the one that chose the worst bar in town," he looked at you sideways again, kind of offended. "I meant no offense." He just nodded and handed you the beer that he just purchased. 'Cool! He has no idea I'm not old enough to drink! If I tell him they might kick me out… what would these airhead girls do next…  Damn. Why do I even bother?'

"I-Doesn't matter!" you interrupted yourself and made a toasting gesture with it. You told him your age later that night and although Merle made a joke about that he should keep away from jailbait, Daryl did not seem too bothered to see you again the next weekend, as you met them with the friend that was now hooking up with Merle.

He was difficult at first, whether it was for your age or him being uncomfortable around new people, you weren’t sure. You hung around and tried to be easygoing with him, although you would jump down the other guys' throats if they tried to talk to you. You kind of knew how to earn a biker's respect, it wasn't you trying to be someone you were not, just you being who you didn't trust to be around other men. 

He seemed to be good at reading people because he seemed to do it with ease, almost as well as you, only far more silent. Your persistence paid off and within a few months, his sweet and kind side became more obvious for you. It was easy to understand where that volatile character came from, he was raised by Merle and his parents indeed neglected them, which made him have to work for everything himself. There was never really anyone there for him to trust or rely upon, besides his brother. And Merle wasn't exactly a solid rock.

The more you talked, the more you were able to wheedle from him. The more you were able to see beyond the surly attitude he had towards everyone, it was a defence mechanism but that was it, he didn't do a single thing to go rogue or do bad things per se if he followed his brother it was his brother who did wrong, not him. For some people, it was difficult to separate them from behavior and action, so Daryl was harshly misjudged, which only fed his aversion towards people. But it was truly not that difficult to get along with him if you dismissed disruptive judgments. 

Your mother did not like him at first and asked you to stay away from him, that pissed him off when he found out about it. He asked you to leave him alone and said 'What is a nice college girl doing with a savage town boy, anyway? Your mum is right, we don't match.' But when you made your way to see him again because you knew he was pushing you away. To avoid bad blood between you and your family, he did not send you away or say anything to make you feel bad about your argument. The two of you just sat next to each other until you reached for the hand resting over his thigh while getting closer to him, then you tangled your fingers with his and he did the same.

The physical contact was just a world apart, at first it was difficult because you weren't sure how to interact. You liked the guy, so you wanted to let him know he was different from the other man you talked to. You had always seemed like a cold bitch in that aspect of your life, not sure if it was for the way your mum was around her people, even if she was an affectionate mother, or if it was for the thought that guys had to earn any sort of closeness from you.

It was probably the latter because that mentality has not changed that much. You have to like someone very much to be physical in any way. On the other hand, he flinched at your approaches at first, so you respected his personal space for months until he got used to having you around for a little bit more than talking.

It was you who took the initiative in sex, even being a virgin because he was always very reserved when it came to the subject. You were kind of worried about what kept him from advancing, so you made sure to be clear enough on how far you wanted him to go. 

That day, you placed a condom box over his nightstand making sure he saw you do it, the rest was history. He was delicate and gentle, it stung at first but it wasn't painful at all and he even made you feel the fireworks. For what you knew, the first time this wasn't always the case. Besides that, Daryl didn’t seem to be a very sexual person.

You were in love with him, nothing stopped you from being with him, and no one was able to come between the two of you. You even managed to tolerate Merle in his ways and inopportune jokes. That was until his dealing with drugs fucked up everything.

Your eyes grow wet from the memories and you force yourself to blink them away. It is not the moment for a breakdown. You always knew you were not over what happened with you two but had pushed your feelings so far away in the back of your mind when you moved. You didn't know how bad that wound was still stinging, until now.

All you can do in the situation you are in is to put on your 'cold as ice' face back on and keep your shit together. At least until you get your thoughts and feelings in place and order. 

"We've got a full boat! Let's meet the man," Simon approaches the RV and knocks at the door, then walks back to where the future Negan's victims are, to stand behind them. Negan opens the door and steps out with all his weight, bouncing on his knees with Lucille’s placed intimidatingly at his shoulder. Displaying his pearly whites in a wicked grin and in that exact moment, you know that something you won't forget is about to happen. Something really, really bad.

Taglist @stxrg4zer

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

[circe69]

I read your rules and I hope this isn’t too dark but can you do a Simon x reader where the reader has an identical twin and they die during the graves betrayal scene and the aftermath is Simon comforting the reader? Like they were already crushing on each other and he’s comforting her.. thank you💚

I Wish For Simon

a/n - anon i am so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i'm terrible w requests! i want to make it perfect before i post, so hopefully this is what you wanted... wc: 1.1k cw: gore, violence, suggestive themes, probably the best thing i've ever written (yeah its a warning cause YOU'LL BE BAWLING)

fav line from the fic - “That voice could seduce anyone, I was sure of it. It was as if God himself had dipped Simon's vocal cords in a pot of warm honey, then lit it on fire.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Me and my twin had always been close, we had to be. "Best friends since birth", we'd been deemed from before we could even speak. Alyssa and I were quite the pair and had exceeded our hometown's problematically low expectations of woman in a whole when the both of us had been assigned to serve in the 141 Task Force.

It was a change of pace, but one that I wanted. I had prepared for something like this my whole life, training and worked myself to death just to have a chance to serve. Alyssa, on the other hand, wasn't as keen on the idea. Sometimes I wonder if she just joined because she couldn't bear to be apart from me. I love the sentiment, but we were grown adults, we couldn't afford to make decisions solely due to separation anxiety.

That brings us to today, March 3rd. I hate March 3rd.

My birthday. Well, our birthday.

I hate today because as of now, I have to celebrate it alone. It's been years since Alyssa died, and I still act just as immature and "kid-like" when March 3rd rolls around every year.

Her death had been nothing short of a "hostage dump", my sister had been counted as a waste of time to Graves, someone who wouldn't make a difference to anyone in the force, so why would he keep her?

I can't help but think it was my fault, but I didn't have time to feel sorry for something I might've done. All I felt was anger, hot rage bringing my blood to a boil, all which contributed to what I was about to do. Anger is difficult to overcome, especially when it's brought on by confusion, something happened that you barely knew anything about. I wanted to take it upon myself to strip Graves of all the "information" I felt I was missing, I wanted to skin him alive and make him answer questions as I did it, but as I rose my knife behind Graves’ wall of a body, a hand stopped me.

A silent move, not a scary one. I immediately knew who it was once I saw the fabric.

Ghost.

His hand was heavy around my wrist, his height towering over me, it was all too much for me to focus on, so I did what I'm positive Ghost was trying to make me do, I backed down.

I retreated as quietly as I could, putting my blade back in its embrace of a pocket and followed Ghost out the door, trying to excuse whoever that woman was in there that she hadn't had enough sleep, she was hungry and just wanted to feel something, but Ghost had none of it.

"It's okay, Y/N, to want to avenge someone. It's okay to be bloodthirsty and feel yourself make allowances for it. It's okay."

Ghost was a man of many attributes, but comforting was never one of them. He himself had attended multiple therapy sessions throughout the entirety of our relationship, but they only lasted so long before he strangled the shrink.

I liked Ghost. I admired him, I admired what his life had amounted to. Perhaps worthless to him, a soul placed in the wrong hands, but I thought quite the opposite.

"You're a good man, Simon."

His name slipped out of my mouth.

No.

Oh no.

I had gotten too emotional, I felt myself crawling into a hole of feelings and a strong desire to cry rushed over me. I suddenly imagined all the times I'd watched Simon do simple, mundane things, and stared at him long enough to read his dog tags over and over and over. I'd recited his name in my head, in my dreams, for so long and I still was shocked when I'd heard myself say it.

His eyes locked with mine. Dark, deep, dead, he'd like to contribute, but I chuckle mentally as I think about how the man who views himself as dead was the only one in the world who made me feel as alive as he did.

"What did you say?" That voice could seduce anyone, I was sure of it. It was as if God himself had dipped Simon's vocal cords in a pot of warm honey, then lit it on fire.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I shouldn't have addressed you like that, my apologies." I started to walk away when his body came crashing against mine. My back hit a jagged wall and I groaned in pain, but I quieted down when I realized just how close he was to me. I felt him against me, and I couldn't feel it fast enough. My senses heightened, my pupils dilated, and my face flushed with a dark shade of aflame red. Both of our breathing was shallow and heavy, every breath he emitted made mine deeper, louder.

I could feel the confusion seeping off of him. He didn't want it to feel so good when his name left my mouth. He didn't want to enjoy it, but it was inevitable. A no-good name slipping out of a no-good mouth, it was bound to happen at some point.

I shook off my daydream, finding myself at an empty table in an empty dining hall, the only thing in front of me was a poorly made cupcake, pink frosting, sprinkles, all the works. I stared at a candle, half of it had already melted mind you, and my mind reeled as I stalked my mental drawers for wishes I hadn't made yet,

"I wish for Simon." My voice broke as I said it, and I realized I hadn't spoken all day until now.

I don't truly believe that's why my voice broke, however. I truly did love Simon, I loved him in everything he did and everything he didn't. I loved the fact that he never exhibited any sort of emotion except for denial and force. I loved how scared he was of feeling anything else.

A tear dropped onto the table below me, the chair screeched as I stood, and everything was happening too fast. Before I knew it, tears were pouring out of me at an uncontrollable rate. I turned around and started heading for the door, telling myself that I would leave that stupid wish behind with the melted wax, but I was stopped in my tracks when I saw who was leaning against the doorway with those beautifully built forearms crossing his chest.

He had heard it, was all I could think as I made intense eye contact with him. With everything else.

His mask was discarded. I couldn't stop my jaw from unhinging, I felt it click open slowly and it dropped until it couldn't anymore.

Simon smiled at the action. His white teeth contrasting his pink lips. I looked back at the table for a fraction of a second to see that the flame I had left untouched had been blown out, maybe it was the wind, maybe it was the spirit of my once-lonely-self making an appearance for the last time.

I looked back at Simon like a child on Christmas.

Maybe I'd keep wishing for stupid things if they'd work as well as this one did.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

a/n part two : happy new years everyone! i probably won’t post till monday, but i wish you all the best and love💕

[clicheantagonist]

15 Lines Of Dialog

Thankies @aceghosts and @adelaidedrubman the tag! 😘

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well! (Y'all know I can't do that.)

Some of my favorite Alex lines:

“Is that why you hate him? ‘Cause he cockblocked you?” - Alex @ Wesker, joking about Chris in Little Tyrants

“What’s your name? Who’s your daddy? Is he rich like me?” - Alex playfully serenading Jake (yeah, Wesker's son Jake, that one) in AU: Something About Infinite Cycles (unposted as of right now) Yes, she knows.

“Listen. One does not say ‘no’ to getting to do a Scarface in the coke. When was I gonna have that opportunity again?” - Alex telling Kit about a very damning photo of herself Wesker keeps on his desk in their untitled fic (The Unholy Throuple Universe)

“Boy went to law school and still isn’t smarter than my drop-out, yee-haw ass." - Alex talking to herself (judging John's lack of foresight) during the Reaping in Drown Me And Call It A Baptism.

“Um…this is…exactly what it looks like.” - Alex's response to Wesker catching her sparking up a joint after-hours. In a Holiday companion oneshot to Little Tyrants that explains their first hook up (during the S.T.A.R.S. days) and the circumstances surrounding it.

“I’ve been making and breaking monsters for twenty years – what makes you so special?” - Alex being a [playful, I promise] smartass in response to a comment Butcher makes about being a monster, in my still Untitled The Boys AU (I'm having so much fun there. I get the hype. It's awesome.) “Aw, c’mon! Something got loose after they got my ass?!” - Hearing Wesker tearing through bodies at a black site she's been caught and detained in. I posted this as a WiP here.

“I’ll kill him. I better not ever find out if he sticks his dick in that bitch.” - speaking (bitching) to Alex Wesker about Excella's proximity to Albert in a scene from Little Tyrants.

“If – allegedly - I’m willing to eat my own, imagine what I could do to you?” - a joke/threat regarding her nickname, in response to being questioned by Feds (derogatory) about her presence in Russia during the Caucasus outbreak of 2003 (Resident Evil: The Umbrella Chronicles) in Little Tyrants.

“Ya think it was God’s grace that kept you fuckin do-gooders alive all these years? It was me. I spared you. D’you know how many opportunities I had to bring your heads home as trophies? You show some fuckin respect.” - In her Rick Sanchez era when she snaps during the events of RE5 in Little Tyrants, properly encountering Chris and Marshall again after betraying the cause. Wesker is very proud in this moment.

“I need to know I have a place. That I won’t be another dying star. Like Excella. Marcus. Sergei. Birkin. All the others that worked with you who thought they were too big to fall.” - trying to express her fears regarding Wesker's obsession with his New World Order (RE5) + past history with partners - she's not so much worried for the world, she's worried about them. (Priorities, girl.) I love this line because it's such a good example of how she doesn't shy away from dangerous topics; and she's willing to name his previous partners to impress upon him she knows she has good reason to worry. From Little Tyrants.

“Couldn’t trust you with no dirt. Retrieving your virus gave me leverage, and that made me more comfortable." - During her affair with Neil Fisher (Resident Evil Revelations 2); she's telling him very directly who she is and how she operates in explaining why she gave him a chance. I posted this as a scrapped WiP here

“I had to level the playing field. I’m a sore loser.” - to Butcher, regarding a life-altering decision she makes in near total secret. He asks why, and this is how she says: "cause my ego can't take anyone, even a Supe, kicking my ass and getting away with it." They really do mirror each other in ways I hadn't realized till just now. I swear I'll post some of this when I figure out where it's going/how long I expect to be invested. From the as of now Untitled The Boys AU

'Oh, I'm doin' a big stupid. The Lord God himself could come down and be like 'No, bitch' and I'd pretend I didn't hear him.' - Alex's inner monolog the night she and John start hooking up in Drown Me And Call It A Baptism. I didn't give her inner voice enough recognition here, but I should of. I love her running inner commentary.

Tagging, If y'all wanna (ignore me if you have): @socially-awkward-skeleton @josephslittledeputy @shallow-gravy @carlosoliveiraa @i-am-the-balancing-point and whoever else may want to.

[dragonsoftheeast]

For the directors cut ask: do you remember writing not born, but raised? You captured Guzman‘s feelings after Marina‘s death so vividly. Chapter 8 was heartbreaking to me and I’d love to hear anything you have to say about it. Bonus: how you would have written Guzman‘s thoughts/feelings towards Lu at the beginning of season two (you know me 😅)

Man, I'm so glad you asked me about this- it was so fun to write that! If anyone wants to check it out, you can find it here: not born but raised. And if anyone else wants some behind the scenes looks at my fics, just send me the ask!

Apologies for the essay response, but if there's anyone I can respond with loads of words about Elite to, it's you.

I've always used novelizations as a writing practice (it really helps me with body language since I can't visualize), but this was the first time I ever showed anyone. Getting into Guzman's head was everything for me, and I knew if there's anything this boy does, it's deny, deny, deny. And Miguel did such a perfect denial in his first reaction to Marina's death, that I just had to extend it. Listening to the cast reading of the finale was also incredible help, the actors were so attached to their characters! Maria's reaction to Guzman's line of "Because you know if something happens to them, maybe they had it coming.” made me know that had to be such an important line for him. It had to haunt him.

The trickiest thing to me was actually piecing together those interrogation scenes into something reasonable, like an actual flow of conversation. Cause I had transcribed that the whole season long and I rearranged that conversation so many ways to try and make it make sense.

And I do know you! And just to answer your question, I'll give you the opening lines I wrote for the season 2 novelization.

In the rules of geometry, the strongest structures have three sides. In the realm of grief, however, it seems that these rules don’t apply. His parents find support in each other, if not comfort. None of them will ever find comfort again. But the balance of their family, two parents, two children, is disrupted, and they don’t know how to support him.  Lu tries. They have sex that’s supposed to remind him that he’s alive, or at the very least wants to be. She holds him when he ultimately breaks down in his sleep, the thought of Marina’s misshapen head too much for him to bear. For most of the summer, he drinks, though Lu pulls the bottle away from him whenever she can. For that, he loves and hates her hands in equal measure.

So there you have it! Lu and Guzman's relationship is really messy in that I think they are very complacent when they are with each other. Lu is very complicated and smart (I know you know that), but when it comes to trying to get someone to not do something, she tends to stick to her one strategy, verbally lashing out. And while I love the zingers, it's not the best way to get into Guzman's head (since that is also his strategy). So to me, he's grateful to her, he owes his life to her, but I think he ends up resenting her on two opposing fronts- on the one hand, keeping him from the self-destruction he desires, on the other, not being effective enough to actually keep him from that self-destruction.

I actually have episodes/chapters 1 and 2 written out, but I wasn't sure whether I should post it when I'm not sure I can finish the season and the fandom seems pretty dead (let me know if you're still interested lol). But if you wanna see more of Guzman grieving Marina, I have some tearjerkers in there, if I do say so myself.

[incineraryperiphery]

Danmei Rec Meme

(thank you for clearing up my misunderstanding and the tag @endless-season! Original post here)

-How long have you been into danmei, how did you get into it / what was your first danmei? It's been a year or two (or three? time is irrelevant) at this point, but TGCF was my first! Asked around on a forum for character dynamic recs when I wanted to read something different and this was the one that caught my eye. I've been voraciously devouring them since. (Reading novels is my main motivation for learning mandarin; there's far too few translated horror danmei for my tastes and even less officially done ones)

-Favourite danmei? ask me again in three months and I can guarantee i'll give you a different answer. right now, it's a three-way tie between fake slackers (low stakes modern high school identity porn), married thrice to salted fish (ancient transmigration from the pov of a villain), and i can keep you alive till the fifth watch (desperate to live young master enters an unlimited flow horror game), but MDZS occupies most of my fandom brainspace at the moment.

-Favourite couples / characters? Man, there's so many. Off the top of my head for the couples that don't include my pet noncanon ships, chi ting and yue ren (please follow the rules of the game), ren yifei and saman (the days i clear escape games pretending to be an npc), xue qianshao and hui xing (where to find the remnants of spring), wei e and the creator (folklore's no. 1 boss), and song nanzhi and gu yanqing (穿成魔尊后与反派相爱相杀 - i'm not entirely confident in my own translation of the title) Character-wise outside of those boys up there, I love zhao yelan (after being forced to marry the evil star general), fu zhiyu (buddha-like rebirth), yu fan (wait for me after school), and san san (do you have any opinion on mechanical cat ears?). (Honorary mention to shenyuan svsss even without reading the novel yet, mostly because it feels like every post I see out of that fandom makes fun of him for reading a stallion novel for the plot but that's Thee most relatable-to-me character trait i've ever seen)

-Most recently read danmei? My most recently finished one is it's my turn to take the stage and fly/it's my turn to dominate (cryofrozen team captain gets defrosted and starts playing the vr version, meets his little cousin's shameless childhood friend in said game). I just started genius strategy theory (weak as hell little genius gets finally gets his hands on a holographic game he can actually play, i think the ML is the head of a research department?) and i'm very much enjoying it, but i'm juggling a few others in my open tabs for if the mood strikes.

-Any favourite authors? Qi jing nan qu and Nian zhong, no question. I love the way they both handle all the little details and really bring out the main couples relationships through them - the only downside is the emotional rollercoasters wear me out haha. My favorites from each are don't pick up boyfriends from the trash bin and sending the divine/sendoff. I also really enjoy the way mxtx structures her novels but it always takes me a few tries to really get into them.

-Any popular danmei you aren't particularly a fan of? Anything by priest, unfortunately - no fault on their part, all their concepts are fascinating but I just bounce off every one I try.

-Anything you've been meaning to read but still haven't? I've started both svsss and erha a couple times but the stars haven't been aligned properly or something for me to finish them yet (I already know i'm going to be terribly insufferable once i actually sit down and bang out the former, it has so many of my favorite tropes).

-Choose a random (the weirder and baitier, the better) memorable scene/danmei to describe! Okay so lets say you're some washed up magician who technically transmigrated into a novel, into the body of someone who was supposed to die in the first few pages doing something ridiculously stupid. You've already made it through an instance or two, made something of a name for yourself despite everything, and now you've got the big bad number one player trying to sabotage you inside another instance. everything is dealt with and you're this close to completing the instance when you're sucked into a coffin that you've just trapped someone in. said number one is in there instead, breathing your air and threatening you and being an irritating menace about all of it. it feels like there's no way to get out but, hey, you're a magician. you'll find a way even if it's a gamble. what do you do? You set the coffin on fire behind your back. (there's other really good scenes from thriller trainee but this one's my favorite and doesn't take fifty chapters of backstory to explain)

-Are there any particular genres/tropes you enjoy / don't enjoy? I mostly read unlimited flow/horror, xianxia/xuanhuan, and esports, (and wuxia, but there's not a lot of wuxia danmei floating around) but I'll read anything if the premise sounds interesting. For tropes, I enjoy omegaverse, court intrigue, pretending to be npcs, systems, and master/disciple - I like my protags cold, ruthless, and preferably some sort of sick or disabled. Even better if the main couple tries to murder each other a few times. As for dislikes, I'm not fond of cops/law enforcement main characters, anything dealing with suicide, or bully/victim ships (though, like I said, I'll read anything if it sounds interesting enough).

-Any recommendations to give? Badly describe them in a few sentences. A couple that I don't really see crossing my dash: Support is king (low stakes vr gaming about a poisonous healer, his pining dps, and a five-year misunderstanding. same author as please follow the rules of the game) Two Long Aotians' shura fields (scummy master completes his system quests but gets shunted to an alternate timeline where he can actually care for his little disciple instead of going home, protag from the original world discovers this and is not pleased. much stripping of vests and identity porn) PUBG online romance of the century (trashy voice-con livestreamer meets his terrible gamer boss and falls in love at first listen. same author as wait for me after school, i can do it is also really fucking cute too) Every day, the marshal is a love-struck fool for me (underground supposed-to-be-dead assassin ends up married to a war hero due to an error, terrible love advice abounds. short, sweet, plot-heavy and mecha-light - i heard my fiance is super fierce is also good) After marrying the lord of the underworld (wicked unlucky exorcist gets ghost-married as a kid to protect him, turns out his promised "beautiful female ghost" is a king of the underworld. feels like the author never misses, they also wrote how to feed an abyss and the dragon lord is weak and helpless but has a big appetite) His marriage partner is scheming (nominally-straight transmigrator can't bear to let the pretty minor villain meet his book-fate and marries him about it. Chi xueyan's family is so much fun.) Non-human seeking re-employment (lazy little ghost gets sucked into a horror game after two whole days of being human, proceeds to ruin the ambience by kicking everything he comes across. shen dongqing is not stuck there with the ghosts, the other ghosts are stuck there with him.)

(tagging anyone who'd like to do this, really, I don't think I know many people into danmei outside the big ones)

[twilightimagines28]

Can you write where the reader, Alecs human mate and Bellas sister, goes to Italy with Bella in New Moon and she chases after Bella but trips and falls in the fountain so she is dripping wet and when Felix holds out the red cloak for Edward, reader snatches it first.

"They refused him." Alice said speeding down the highway on our way to save Edward.

"So...?" Bella asked

"He's gonna make a scene, show himself to the humans." "No! When?" Bella asked again, panicking

"He's gonna wait until noon when the sun's are at its highest."

"Alice we need to hurry!"

"Bella, relax, we'll get there, tell her." Alice said and looked back at me.

"Yeah, Bella, just take a breathe, we'll make it." Bellas sister y/n said trying to sound hopeful, as they made their way into town, they noticed everyone was wearing red.

"Why is everyone in red?" Bella asked, "Saint Marcus day, it's supposed to be a day to run all the vampires out of Italy. The red represents the blood-stained clothes of victims." Alice explained.

"Kind of fitting don't you think?" y\n said getting glares from both her sister and Alice.

"There's too many people, Bella, you have to run." Alice stopped the car Bella got out.

"Alice?" Bella asked when the vampire didn't move."I can't go he would see me coming." "I'll go." Y\n said, jumping out of the car. Her and Bella started running to the clock tower as they pushed through the crowd.

Y\n tripped and fell into the fountain. "Y\n!" Bella yelled. "Go, I'm right behind you!" she said, Bella continued to run, y\n pulled herself out of the fountain and tried to move as fast as she could now soaked to get to Bella.

When she got there Bella had her arms wrapped around Edward.

"You need to move, it's me look at me!" Bella said "You need to move!" she added Edward opened his eyes. "Bella?" he asked he dragged Bella inside and y\n followed.

The two kissed. "I thought you were dead."Edward said,"I'm not, I couldn't let you kill yourself because of me. You had to see i was alive. You can let me go now." Bella said.

"I can't live without you." Edward said

"Edward!" Y\n cheered and went over hugging him."Y\n what are you doing here?" he asked."You seriously thought I was going to let my sister come all the way to Italy to fight evil vampires by herself."

"Aro wants to speak with you." a rather large vampire said, walking up to them."No rules were broken, Felix." Edward said,"Aro's orders." Felix shot back."Bella, why don't you and y\n go enjoy the rest of the festival."

"The girls come with us." Felix said

"Over my dead body." Edward was ready to fight, but the doors opened, "Oh come on now guy's it's a festival. Do you really wanna cause a scene?" Alice asked, walking in.

"Enough." Jane said."Aro sent me to what was taking so long." Felix went to hand Edward a rob, but y\n grabbed it and through it on instead.

Everyone stared at her. "I just feel in a fountain for you." she said to Edward. They went to meet Aro, as Bella and Edward were trying to talk their way out of being killed Y\n couldn't help but keep her eyes on a tall, slime vampire in the corner of the room.

She noticed him looking at her as well. After the fighting between the vampires had stopped, Bella, Edward,Alice, and Y\n went to leave. But as the doors opened, "Stop!" Aro commanded.

They all turned around. "It seems we have a rather interesting situation." He grinned,"Alec.." he called reaching out his hand. The tall dark figure moved from his side of the room over the Aro.

"Bella, it seems that a destiny for our lifestyle runs in your family." He added as Alec reached him, "Y/n is it?" He asked, looking at Bella's sister.

"Yes, sir." She said, taking a deep breath. He reached his hand out to her. "No." Bella stepped forward "Bells it's fine, I don't want anymore fighting." Y/n said and walked over to the elder vampire.

"Dear sweet Y/n, it seems that you are Alec's Mate." Aro said, getting uncomfortable close to her ear. She only knew what that meant from hearing the wolves speak of it.

"Do you accept this?" He asked, "If I don't?" Y/n asked, "Well, I suppose it would mean we would have to kill you, after all Edward already bargained for your sister's life."

"Aro, please." A tall male with long brown hair stepped forward."If it is her wish not to take me as her mate, I don't want any harm to come to her."

Aro was silent for what seemed like forever and then spoke, "Very well, Alec, but if she makes any trouble either of them, it will be up to you to end it."

"Yes, Aro." Alex said,"Leave." Aro said, turning his back and walking away, Alec and Felix walked them to the door, Alec stopping Y/n before leaving."This is my number. If you need anything at all don't hesitate to call me." He said y/n took the small paper looking it over carefully, feel a slight pull to Alec.

" Thank you." She said, putting it in her pocket and following the rest out the door.

[lux-talks-a-lot]

i was thinking and like, there have been many times in my life where i was too depressed to kill myself

and that's really fucking funny (im doing much better now)

but it's also kinda the point of being depressed i think

bc in the same way that anxiety seems like the most useless helpless feeling in the world when your in the middle of panic attack and all you want is for it to stop BUT is actually your fight/flight response kicking in and trying (& perhaps clumsily succeeding in) keeping you alive during a moment where may feel (and perhaps actually are) deeply unsafe

i think depression is there your inner self-preservation trying to keep you alive in a different way

bc from personal experience, sometimes the danger to your life is no longer an outside source (maybe you moved from the danger, maybe you adapted to it, maybe it's not there anymore)

the danger to your life is you and your brain knows if you COULD do something, it would be first and foremost self-destructive

and depression is awful and like literal chains around your ankles

but generally speaking, your brain & body want to live even when you don't

and they'll make it clear

your body might literally start collapsing bc you've taught your body "we dont rest unless we have to" so your body responded, "we no longer have a choice but to rest"

your brain might go into depression which is a deeply protective state of mind

reminder that your body has a lot of ways to warn you that you're on the way to depression but you have to learn the signs or else they might as well not exist

but yeah, idk, from the perspective of someone who's been to a lot of therapy bc i was something of a troubled child, everything ive been taught about how to take care of myself and my brain; human psychology is complicated but you dont need to know therapy-speak to understand that even when you feel like your brain fucking hates you, it's doing more to take care of you than most people are

trust yourself and your body a little more, there's reasons for why people crash and burn and it's not the depression, it's what led to the depression

i really question calling this shit mental "illness" when so often, it seems to only be an illness bc someone else is complaining about it, i know the moment i shut the fuck up and stopped complaining, i had more people in my life but i also started feeling worse

if we would just let people exist a little more, if we were more willing to give space to things we find uncomfortable instead of being ruled by emotional impulses, we might be able to expand the bubble of societal protection for EVERYONE, keep everyone a little safer

okay, im done my soapbox now, just needed to rant (shoutout to the first therapist i had who very bluntly told my very anti-drug family that i was currently very high risk and saying no to these drugs is saying yes to potentially letting this get worse, go figure the deeply religious undiagnosed autistic gay 12 year old trans egg was a little prone to self-loathing)

also shout out to tumblr, i dont know if it made me less or more at risk, but shout out anyways

[scribblesbyb]

Writing Game Week #1: Use These Prompts to Get Back Into Writing!

Prompt 1 Prompt 2 Prompt 3 Prompt 4 Prompt 5 Rules: Sharing randomly generated prompts every day for a week. Create sth with it in only an hour (time yourself). Don't edit or proofread till the very end. Just. Write. A/N: a bit late with this one because I was renovating my room last night and went waaay over schedule. Anyhoo~ prepare for some weird, cartoonish vibes with this one. WC: 1488

Prompt 5:You are swimming in a super large and deep lake. You’re a little winded so you try to float. Suddenly your entire body starts to cramp. You're quickly sinking to the bottom of the lake when an undertow sucks you straight down. You panic as you drown but then see a bright light and get sucked into an underwater city. Confused as you enter you…

“The first human has arrived, hurry!” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The awkward-sounding voices around you sound unfamiliar to your ears. As you lay there, half-dead, unable to move a single muscle never mind open your eyes, you try to recall the last thing that happened.

Memories of a swimming trip to Wyoming with your best friends spring to mind. You remember begging the guys to come join you for a quick afternoon dip in the lake but not one wanted to tag along, claiming jet lag got the best of them. 

Even more vividly, however, your mind recalls dying.

You were sure you had drowned—or at least was close to. An inexplicable cramp—inexplicable because when has your whole body ever cramped up like that?—paralyzed you as you lay there afloat. Before you knew it, an undertow was sucking you in before you could figure out a way to keep your head up. 

A quick flash of light blinded you as you sank. You thought that was it. That was the light indicating the end of one’s life. For a second, you hallucinated an image of some murky, polluted city, but it disappeared as fast as your brain conjured it. You were unconscious, presumed dead, for who knows how long.

Now though, your ears were alive and still picking up on alien voices talking nonsense around you.

“Prepare to confront your owner.”

“Does everyone remember their speech?”

“No funny business, Dom, you hear me?”

You try again to move your body or open your eyes, but the pressure on either is overwhelming. You feel clumsy, tiny hands touch your tanned bare skin, lifting you only to lay you back down on a cold slab. The change in temperature sends a shiver down your spine but you still don’t wake up. Next, you hear chains rattling before the cool steel is wrapped around your limbs. 

You begin to panic. Is this real? You think. Am I in hell? Have I actually died? You implore your muscles to move, to struggle against the chains. They don’t comply. 

“Bring Poly in here! It’s time.”

You hold your breath, your stomach twisting into knots. You’re convinced you're about to be punished, whipped, and God knows what else.

A strong, overwhelming minty scent—one that reminds you of your favorite deodorant back when you were alive—hits your nostrils. It effectively wakes up your body, breathing life back into your limbs. Slowly, your eyes open. With a blurry vision, you blink them a few times to focus on your surroundings.

What the–??

You’re greeted by an army of uncannily animated creatures. The image you had seen before you died was real, you conclude, that picture of an overly polluted city now stood at your feet; a hue of disgusting green and gray shades. Everything seemed tiny in comparison to your massive frame. The biggest building went no further than your knees. 

Is this hell? You ask yourself again. The stories don’t seem to do it any justice. You joke facetiously.

You’re trying to make sense of what’s happening when a voice too close to your ears makes you grimace.

“The human is awake, Your Highness! We’re ready!”

You feel something jump off your shoulder. You look to see an animated deodorant tube; your go-to deodorant tube nonetheless. You don’t know just how many of these you must’ve used in your lifetime. Something about seeing it made you feel safe…but only for a second. Its awfully realistic and reddish eyes, twisted body, and the fact that it had no cap made your stomach turn further.

“Then let us not dwell any longer.”

From the masses of animated garbage crowding around your feet, a tall glass bottle emerges. It brings up a memory of the first alcohol bottle you ever drank. A rich red wine you stole from your mother’s no-no cabinet to impress a girl. This alien creature reminded you much of that same bottle.

“Welcome, human.” Its mouth has no teeth. It moves similarly to a badly lip-synced video; like there’s a delay in your connection. This is crazy, you think, what is this place?

“You must wonder where you are,” the bottle with glaring black eyes states. “This is your landfill. A testament to your grotesque crimes on Earth.”

You shake your head. What? You go to speak, only to notice the paper face mask on your mouth, angrily boring its big blue eyes at yours. 

Face masks. Quarantine. 2020.

The words run through your mind. You look back at the glass bottle. It’s moved aside, gesturing with its nozzle at a clearing that splits the crowd of garbage in half.

Breath held in anticipation, you watch as an aluminum can hops its way to your feet.

“I am Soda.” It says, so matter-of-factly. For a second, you think it was rolling its eyes at you.

Instead, you just stare at it in disbelief. Your favorite brand of fizzy drink was so casually introducing itself to you. 

Sighing, the can click-pops itself open with jarred aluminum shards. “I’m here because you never bothered to recycle me.” It grips its pop-top in those weird aluminum hands it has and carries on angrily. “Well, unless there was someone around for you to show off to.” 

“Thank you, S,” The glass bottle nods its nozzle at the can and then calls on the next witness. “Bring in Dom.”

Out slithers a condom. Eyes widening in shock, you swear the condom was looking at you with a cheeky grin. 

“Hi, big guy!” It greets you, but you can only focus on how grossly sticky it looks. “Actually, no, I’ve been there so let me rephrase.” It flops around, and you assume it’s clearing its throat. “Hello, small fellow!”

“Dom.” The glass bottle seemed to threaten. “We agreed to behave.”

“In my nature, Your Highness.” It bops its latex-pointed head at the glass. “There’s nothing more to say than the usual speech I give to the likes of you. It gets boring, really.”

“Every. Time.” A sound in the back sighs.

“In his nature, he says?” Another voice piles on. “If any unbiodegradable material is to be cheeky, it would be me.”

I must be on something, you think. Maybe one of the boys gave me something at our party last night. Maybe that’s why my body cramped. Maybe that’s why I’m having this feverish coma dream.

Down the line hurdles a mass of more animated everyday items. You recognize them all. Crumpled paper you’ve thrown out without second thought. Torn clothes you’ve thrown away; too lazy to donate. Plastic—oh, God, too much plastic—plastic bags awkwardly floating through the water, plastic cans plopping their way to you, and plastic bottles nozzle-flipping down the garbage-infested road.

Beside you, your mother’s wine bottle exhales. “I can’t be the immortal one here and also have none of your respect.”

“Please,” The condom pshaws, “being immortal in a land of un-biodegradables is no big deal.”

“Dom. Behave.”

“Oh, what’s the point, Your Highness?” The deodorant tube that woke you up exclaims. “They forget all this the second they wake up anyway!”

 “See? Poly gets it.” Dom agrees then turns its snake-shaped head around. “Who else?”

Claps and cheers overwhelm you. You fist your hands against the chains, begging for release. If you’re dead, so be it. But let this not be the fate you’re going to spend eternity in.

“The coward!” Soda yells, its fizzy liquid bubbling out of its hole. “He wants to escape! Can’t handle facing the truth of his crimes!”

“I may just be a piece of plastic,” A plastic bag adorned with the logo of your go-to grocery store jumps in, “but I think I speak for everyone here when I say we should kill them instead of teaching them a lesson.”

“Hear, hear!”

Your fists struggle against the chains more. There was no logic behind trash, of all things, killing a human, but you didn’t want to stick around to find out. 

“If we can drown them, we can kill them!”  A pair of lace, worn-out shoes yells, excited.

They’ve been drowning us? You shake your head in disbelief. Did they make me cramp earlier?

That’s insane. How?

“Listen up, trash!” The glass bottle shouts. “I’ve been alive longer than most of you and was the first to arrive here. I don’t know how they do it in other landfills, but this one doesn’t condone murder!”

“No one’s gonna miss him, trust me.” The condom says, snarkily. “Let’s go, trash!”

Defenseless, years of abandoned, discarded, and unrecycled garbage pulls you down to their level. They swarm your body with their sticky, polluted parts, the sensation dreadful and invasive.

Ironically, your life chooses now to flash across your mind. But not to look back on the good memories or lifetime regrets. Instead, it's searching for the dangerous, toxic trash you've thrown out. That which will now kill you. 

[jimmyandthegiraffes]

for the wip ask meme: "WIP sweet revenge" sounds like a more than good bet for being starsky & hutch fic, so i'd love to hear about that! 👀

helloooo tysm!!!! u r correct it is s&h!!

so i actually dont rly know where im going with this fic but it's set in the weeks and months following sweet revenge, based on an idea a friend of mine and i talked about many years ago of hutch getting sick while starsky is recovering. i'm sure it's been done to death haha but i'm a sucker for this shit.

“The world ain’t gonna end because you’re sick for a week, Hutchinson. Not if you’re sick for two weeks, a month.”

“You sure?” Hutch rasps. If he could sound flippant, he would, but he sounds deadly serious.

He also sounds awful, and Starsky tells him so, to his face, bluntly. “You look like crap, and you sound like crap. The world can take it.”

“I’m sorry,” says Hutch. “I didn’t mean to – ” When he tries to sit, Starsky pushes him back down. He’s grateful that Hutch doesn’t resist too much – if it came to a contest of strength, Hutch would still win, even as sick as he is. Starsky’s not up to wrestling, but Hutch has seen enough in the last few months to know the cardinal rule of this game: no engagement Starsky can't match.

There's a lil snippet! The fic focuses on Hutch's feelings of responsibility, and his fears of failure and inadequacy, and Starsky's feelings of frustration and exasperation - mostly good-natured (Hutch is silly).

bonus also from survival WIP which is my other s&h WIP from that list:

When he wakes, he’s not sure that he has. There’s blue sky and it’s fuzzy at the edges. His head throbs and he can feel his heart beating, fast and fevered, in every part of him. There are black spots dancing in his vision, and he blinks hard to try and clear them away, but instead they come into clearer focus. They’re buzzards, far off, high in the warm air-currents. Buzzards. Hutch lies still and tries not to feel fear. Struggling makes the claustrophobia and the heat and the pain and the dust and the thirst crush him downwards, like being buried alive. He breathes, in and out, over and over, and watches the buzzards. They’re a long way off, just specks in the sky, really. Just specks in the sky. He was going to think about death. He was going – Starsky is going to find a dead body. He can’t call anything much to mind. They didn’t know, you don’t know, nobody knows who he is or where he is or what he wants. Help me, I’m going to die here. I’m going to die. The buzzards are black spots, they’re specks in the sky. There were thousands of them. They were living in tents. Sonny is gone. The war is over.

idek what to say abt this, I wrote it I think winter 2021 and I keep trying to find the inspiration to finish it. it's rly just a thinly veiled excuse for me to write in my fave theme - characters who for whatever reason (in hutch's case dehydration and pain) experience a disruption or abstraction (permanent or temporary) in their normal thought patterns, which creates a perfect crucible to explore a scene on a deeper level through a character's distorted viewpoint. smth about looking at something sideways to see it more clearly - when a character is somehow in an altered state it can be easier to tease out interesting threads from them

but anyway i loveeeee the radio thing that hutch is listening to as he's driving at the beginning it rly stuck w me and i wanted to find a way to have it stick in hutch's mind too even if he's not paying attention to it consciously

pick a WIP from this list and send me an ask and I'll post a snippet or share smth about the fic!!