#u need to get a new plot point yesterday

[toestalucia]

the dude on the gbf team who loves writing men falling in love with cheerful, older women and then having said wife DIE in front of her husband has been working very hard this year

[weretheones]

All You Got | Part 8

Part 8: Observant

Plot: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4) 

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 7.6k (oops) Warnings: typical twd content. mentions of death. a bit suggestive wink wink. A/N: hi hi. apologies for the late posting (again). exam season is in full swing and im drowning a bit. butttt, I managed to get this little (its the longest chapter yet lol) part out for you guys <3 just cause I love u so much. ps. the gif is a hint ;)

Every step west of that cottage distanced you further from the cold front following yesterday’s rain. The day hadn’t started exceptionally hot, but the week’s gradual dip in temperature made the sun’s increasing beat feel more eager than you’d known it as of late. The further you got, the more frequent sips you took from the lukewarm water bottle in your bag, even tying that sweater you’d been cuddling for warmth in, just yesterday, around your waist. 

Daryl seemed alright, all things considered. His arm hadn’t proved too troublesome, but the area had proved relatively deserted anyway. The two walkers you came across were tired and slow. Not much of a threat. The heat didn’t seem to bother him, either; he hadn’t shed the flannel underneath his vest yet. 

The sun was at its highest point in the sky when you met the border of the next town, a few hours later. 

“You’ve been through here before?” You asked Daryl, pointing to your spot on the map while walking side by side down the first commercial strip of the town. The stores looked like something out of a movie, quant but full of country charm. If it hadn’t been for the boarded windows and rusted cars sitting in the road, it would’ve been a lively sight. 

“When we first cleared the prison. Made our way through all the places nearby, too.” 

“Couldn’t have left a little for us?” You teased, glancing up at him. 

“There’s still some left. Shit we didn’t need.” 

“Shit we might need?” 

“Mhm. Lemme see tha’.” He grabbed the map from your hand, raising one of his own to block the sun from his eyes. He glanced over the paper, squinting at the tiny roads, then at the street sign above. 

“We can take this to Red Oak.” He tapped the street lines on the map, then continued forward. 

“What's on Red Oak?” 

He looked over his shoulder with a slight smirk. 

“Somethin’ we need.” 

It wasn’t until halfway down Red Oak Drive that you realized what that was. 

When it clicked, you smiled. 

It was an auto repair shop. Daryl had been here before, briefly as he told it, but long enough to make note of a few vehicles still in good condition. One of which was an old, dark blue hatchback that only needed a new battery and some gas to get started again. It was still sitting in the backlot, bathed in the sun’s last harsh rays of the season after the two of you made your way around the building. 

Daryl popped the hood. It was in the same condition as it was when he first found it, with a dead battery and dusty windows. 

“Do we… recharge it?” 

You didn’t know much about cars other than how to drive them. 

“Unless ya got a generator I don’t know ‘bout,” Daryl quipped, to which you softly rolled your eyes. “We need a new one.”

“Well, there’s gotta be something here.” You looked back to the building. 

“Mhm.” He nodded, closing the hood again. “Come on.” 

He kicked the back door three times. You were surprised that hadn’t been enough to bring it down; it was a flimsy thing. They must’ve not worried much about burglars in a small town like this. The brick wall was sturdy, though. Ridged edges pressed into your shoulder as you leaned against it, one leg crossed over the other while the wait began. A breeze of crisp, much more seasonally appropriate air rushed by, fluttering your few loose pieces of hair; you’d have to redo that mess of a ponytail soon. 

Daryl readjusted his hold of the crossbow, rolling his shoulders back— as well as he could, the left one was still noticeably stiff. 

You weren’t subtle about keeping an eye on him. 

“How’s the shoulder?” 

His eyes squinted under the bright sun. “Fine.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“’S a bit sore,” he admitted.

“I tried to tell you.” The loose smile on your lips was sympathetic, rather than teasing. 

“I know.” Daryl chewed at his lip. “But, I know ya get why I couldn’t stay there, neither.”

You stood a bit straighter, and the smile slipped away. 

“I do.” 

Daryl nodded. The air was heavy, not only with the newfound heat but a lingering tension— knowing— between you. If there was anyone who could understand his urge to find what was left of his family, it was you. The night you told him about your brother was still fresh in memory. There had been a vagueness you kept about the whole thing, a tone that could have sounded like a casual acceptance of fate, but Daryl remembered that look in your eye. The tear that slipped past. He didn’t have any doubt that you’d searched as far as you could for him.

But some people were too far gone. 

The shared silence between you two had grown comfortable these last few weeks. This one was different. Stretching seconds, then a minute, it made his muscles heavy. His weight felt unbalanced, even with two feet on the ground. 

Daryl had never been good with words— unless you counted those snarky quips he made. He either didn’t think at all or thought too long. It made him snappy and surly, the type of man people would’ve avoided before this thing. Somewhere there was a list of names to prove it. And yet, he had something to say. He wanted to. 

“Thank you,” he finally mumbled. 

Your expression lifted at that. “For what?” 

“For keepin’ an eye on me. Takin’ care’a me the way ya did.” 

Still, you seemed confused. A knit of your brows and a sweet look in your eye as you tried to pick apart some deeper meaning. Of course, you helped him. That’s what you promised, back at the start. 

“Of course,” you replied. “What else was I gonna do?” 

“I didn’t think you were gonna leave or nothin’,” he said, recalling your conversation while patching him up. Loyal ran deep in you, like it did him, and he trusted that you wouldn’t just leave him to rot. “But a lot’a people would’a.” 

Maybe that’s what he meant. Thank you for not being that person. 

You blinked, readjusting your focus on his serious demeanour. He was reserved, his lips drawn in and eyes barely holding your stare. 

“Well, that’s not us,” you said plainly. 

A reminder that he’d given you that loyalty, too. You weren’t sure if there were words to express how it didn’t feel so difficult to give your attention and care to the health of the man who fought tooth and nail for you to live, even after all the harm you’d caused him. It wasn’t even that you felt you owed him, but you knew he deserved it. 

Daryl gave you a small glimpse of a smile. Soft and sweet, like he was proving to be— deep down, at least. It drew a lopsided grin from you too. Your temple rested against the cool brick wall, and under the sun’s golden glow, you looked quite pretty like that. It was a talent, how quickly you could turn the charm back on; nothing else seemed to grab his attention the same way.  

“After all, what are friends for?” 

Daryl scoffed. He hoped he didn’t sound ungrateful when he blurted, “Tha’s wha' we are now?” 

“I would say so. We keep saving each other’s lives and the conversation is half decent.” You shrugged, as if indifferent. But your smile had turned playful not long ago, about the same time he noticed a warmth at his cheeks.

He’d blame it on the heat, if you asked. 

A second or two later, a walker slammed against the door. 

Daryl’s shoulder wasn’t too restraining; he lured the lone monster out and freed his knife from its skull without breaking a sweat. You gave him a quick smile of acknowledgment before the two of you stepped inside. 

The garage was in rough condition. A sign that was probably falling apart even before the world did, cheap tile floors, and a thick smell of mildew mixed with something decomposing— you were, unfortunately, quite knowledgeable about that smell, by now. The nicest thing about the building was that big roll-down window in the front that let the storefront become soaked in sunlight. The summer must’ve been a lot more tolerable with that wide open.

When the sunlight sneaking into the abandoned building didn’t reach far enough, Daryl held a flashlight in his mouth and scanned the store with his bow. His left shoulder was still stiff, so he had to depend on his other arm to bear most of the weight. Of course, you’d already tried to get him to keep it on his back, if anything, and take the gun instead— but he refused. All but demanded you keep the gun for yourself. 

The two of you searched the aisles with quiet steps, waiting for another unfriendly face to jump out of the shadows. 

It didn’t come. 

Instead, you gathered the few supplies Daryl needed, even pocketed a pair of sunglasses that you were sure would be useless after today, and went back out to that warm autumn day. Sitting on that small bench by the side of the building, eyes protected from the sun, you watched Daryl pop the hood of the car. He was quick at work, dexterous fingers tinkering with different parts of the vehicle that you could barely label. 

Between sips of water, your sight caught on those fingers— now smeared with grease— perhaps a second too long. When he turned to wipe his hands along that red rag in his back pocket, he noticed your lingering eye and paused.

Hesitated. 

With the pair of you caught off guard, you tried to break the quickly growing tension and asked, “Were you an auto mechanic before?” 

Daryl shook his head, bangs falling in his eyes as he did. He stretched underneath the hood again but spared you a glance back. Eyes squinted under the sun, the shine of sunlight hitting the grease along his exposed skin; the scene before you was beginning to look like something out of those ridiculous male model calendars. 

“I jus’ know cars,” he rumbled, a slight smirk to match that thick accent.

It was getting absurd, really; the hot sun wasn’t the only thing making you blush. 

You swallowed another gulp of water. 

It turned out the battery issue wasn’t too complicated. Daryl recounted some of his steps to you, telling you about which wire connected to which point, and so on. It was valuable information, undoubtedly worth paying attention to. The only problem was that by that point, the sun’s beat had stripped him of his vest and hitched the sleeves of his flannel around his elbows. The fact that the top three buttons were undone, opening across that broad and bare chest of his, wasn’t lost on you, either. 

It felt like a tease. He did. 

All you could do was nod along with his rough drawl and lean against the cool brick wall while you tried to deny checking him out. But really, everything else came second place to the swell of that shirt around his biceps, and his tense, thick forearms. Muscles overworked after dealing with tight gears and heavy equipment. 

The shade of those sunglasses was dangerous, giving you the excuse to let your eyes roam free all while Daryl was none the wiser— or so you hoped. 

Thoughts you hadn’t entertained in a long time began to roam free, too. It hadn't bothered you when they left; survival was the top priority, not romance or desire. Of course, the lack of time and potential suitors was a factor, too— why would you think about that when there wasn't even a chance for it? But here you were now, staring at Daryl, and recalling that fluttering feeling of attraction in your gut all too well. 

He was kind and strong. Whatever brute strength and resilience he had was matched with that three-sizes-too-big heart of his. After all, who else would take in an injured stranger, nevertheless one that attacked you just hours beforehand? Daryl might’ve blamed it on getting even, after you helped him from the window, but you knew there was something more behind that harsh stare of his. 

Something delicate. 

For whatever reason, you’d been lucky enough to see that gold-hearted nature firsthand. It sliced through his rough exterior, sparkling like a piece of glass caught in the sun. It was fragile, but you’d seemed to weave your way inside, anyway. 

You inhaled— stop. 

It might've felt otherwise, but there was still parts of Daryl you didn't know. Sometimes you forgot he was a man you’d known less than a month, been friends (barely) with less than two weeks. Even if he proved to be a good person, and was clearly easy on the eyes, from the obvious display ahead, these thoughts were intrusive. Perhaps an outcome of an idle mind. A natural attraction after a string of moments free of tension; all those life-or-death events bonded you, for better or worse, and as the urgency and blood washed off, you were falling victim to the full extent of that tie. 

“Got tha’?” 

“Mhm,” you faintly hummed. 

He said your name— no, repeated it. Embarrassment snapped you back into focus. Here you were daydreaming and practically ogling the man, while he was trying to teach you something. Help you. 

“Asked ya to grab another jug.” He gestured to the empty distilled water in his hand. Thank God, you were able to ignore that flex of his arm— mostly— when he did. 

“Right, yeah, of course,” you stammered. He tossed you the small flashlight before you scurried back into the building. The dark, cool air was a welcome relief against your hot cheeks, and you hoped it’d bring down whatever flush had inevitably crept up your chest.

At least you had those sunglasses. 

Maybe Daryl could feel your eyes roam his bare arms, chest, neck— stop— but you still had an inch of dignity left; he couldn’t prove it past the dark tint of those glasses, now sitting at the top of your head. 

Strolling through those same aisles, you grabbed another jug and tried to shake the last of those thoughts from your mind. Like how his eyes were as blue as the pretty Georgian sky, and were quickly becoming a solace for you. 

You were starting to like the looks he gave you— like he had while waiting at the door. It wasn’t that he was easy to read, no, you’d probably be fighting for a glimpse into those thoughts of his for the rest of your life. But every time you met those eyes that were once so harsh, you remembered the forgiveness he’d shared with you. The kindness. Perhaps it was a bit selfish because when you thought about that, it made something bloom deep in your chest. Something warm and sweet and good. 

You wanted to share it with him too. 

Somehow. 

Helping him find his people was your first try. You hoped you wouldn’t need a second. 

You grabbed the second jug of distilled water and turned to head back. 

A thump came from behind. 

It was odd. Two years spent in this world and yet, in a week, you’d reverted right back to that jumpy girl at the start. The air became thin, and you had to suck in a deeper breath just to keep your head straight. Heart pounding against your ribcage.

The last time you were in a dark store alone, it ended up with three people dead and Daryl shot. 

You spun around, flashlight high. The light danced across the aisles, no walkers or living under the fluorescent glow. That wasn’t enough to soothe your anxieties, so you placed the jug on the ground next to you and grabbed your gun, instead. 

It was then that your light landed on an exit sign. You could see the frame of a door below, in the far corner of the store. You approached it carefully, previously neglected as the pair of you assumed it was just a fire exit leading to that back alley, but now, with your heart still beating fast, you suspected something more lying behind that door. 

You twisted the handle carefully, gun ready in the other hand, but it was locked. 

You checked the front desk, found a ring of keys, and tried two before you found the right one. By then, your heart had slowed a bit. An engaged lock between you and that warning was slightly comforting, but you were still on edge. Finger ready by the trigger, if needed. 

The door creaked open and you stepped inside. 

Immediately, you found the source of the thump. A lone walker. Long, thin hair that was missing chunks and skin like leather stretched across its loosely hung open jaw. Its eyes were wide, staring out to the door you’d just walked through, but other than that low moan that rasped past its throat, it barely moved. 

The walker was old and frail, decomposing in this backroom alone since, if you could guess, the start. It didn’t even try to crawl. It couldn’t, there was a heavy cast on its leg reaching up to its upper thigh. A mop lying on the floor— maybe the thump. A bottle of antifreeze sat next to it, a dried splash of something bumpy and red. 

Puke. 

She killed herself. Locked alone in a backroom, with a broken leg and no other choice. 

The various ways you found the dead often reflected their last moments. Guts hanging out and bits of muscle torn from their flesh meant the obvious. Bullet and knife wounds, too. At the start, the mourning had almost been unbearable. Suffocating. Sympathy never stopped, there were simply too many roaming the world. It became dormant after one too many tried— and almost succeeded— to kill you. Then, something you only ever thought about in silent moments like this one. 

You unsheathed your knife and stepped over the fallen mop. It was the least you could do. 

The room was untouched. It didn’t have many valuables. Not for this world, anyway. There was a stack of cash and a nice bracelet in the bottom drawer of the desk, but nothing other than a couple of mints and a screwdriver that was worth keeping. In the top drawer, you found a single key on a thick, metal ring.  

You pocketed it, just in case. 

Other than the desk and those wobbly shelves filled with client records and taxes— a whole lot of paper— there was only that lumpy grey blanket, draped over something leaning against the wall, left to check out. You peeled it off carefully, but a cloud of dust surrounded anyway. Between coughs, you recognized what was underneath. The somber tone of the room lifted quickly, then. 

From the front of the store, Daryl called your name. Apparently, you’d been taking too long and his suspicions had arisen. 

“I’m okay!” you called back, clearing your throat one last time. “Be there in a second.”  

Even though you knew even less about motorcycles than you did about cars, you smiled as you gripped the handles. You were betting Daryl knew about bikes, too. You kicked up the stand and moved the bike through the store. Twisting it around the aisles and picking up that leftover jug of distilled water as you did. 

“I found something.” You grinned as you stepped back into the sunlight. 

Daryl’s eyes widened when he saw what you were leading. 

“No way.” He said, wiping his hands across the red rag, before stuffing it back into his pocket. “Where’d ya find this?” 

“Backroom. We missed it earlier.” You pulled out the keys you found as Daryl quickly grabbed the bike.

His hands ran over the handles, then the seat. 

“And I think I found the key.”

He had a ridiculous grin plastered across his face. You hadn’t even realized he could smile like that. 

“Pass ‘em ‘ere.” 

You dropped the ring in his open palm as he straddled the bike, thighs on either side. He looked down at the beast of a vehicle between his legs like it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. 

And then he looked back at you with that same look, and it almost made those intrusive thoughts from earlier seem a bit less insane. 

You were sure you had a goofy grin of your own. “You know how to ride one of these?” 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Sorry. Stupid question,” you chuckled, eyes roaming over his leather vest— back on— and patchwork jeans. You never liked stereotypes, but Daryl sure was one sometimes. 

“Jus’ a bit,” he quipped. 

“You know,” you mumbled, smile growing, “I’ve never been on one.” 

“Never?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well, come on, girl.” 

You certainly didn’t need convincing. He shuffled forward, giving you the space to swing your leg over the seat behind him. At first, your hands grabbed at the spot, maneuvering your balance into a comfortable sit— but the overwhelming sight of Daryl's exceptionally broad back, draped in that black leather vest, soon had you squirming again. 

“Ya gotta hold on to me, alright?” 

“Okay,” you mumbled. You placed your shaky hands on his sturdy shoulders, like handlebars of your own. It was lucky that he was wearing that vest now—an extra layer between your skin and his— because you were pretty sure your palms were slick with sweat by that point. 

“Not there.” Daryl’s hand wrapped around the bend of your elbow, gently pulling your hands down. “Don’t need ya diggin’ a finger in my scab.” 

Then he repositioned them around his waist. 

Like it had been nothing. 

It had— you reminded yourself. Whatever bothered thoughts that kept slipping into mind today were an exception. Maybe your period was coming back. Or maybe that hot sun had melted away every bit of self-control you had left. 

“Ya might wanna hold on a bit tighter. It goes fast.” 

Your lungs constricted. Suddenly this felt wrong. Dangerous. 

“Wait— what about your shoulder? Should you be moving it—” 

“‘M movin’ it less sittin’ on this thing than off’a it.” 

“Well, shouldn’t we be wearing helmets or something?” 

The vibration of his laugh echoed through his back, which you were practically pressed up against. You might've cared more about his flippant attitude if he hadn’t reverberated a particularly soothing warmth back into you. 

“You chickenin’ out?” 

“No. I’m just remembering every motorcycle crash horror story my brother told me.” 

“He ride?” 

“God, no. He was an ER nurse.” 

“Well, we ain’t gonna crash.” Daryl rolled his shoulders back, and your grip tightened already. Nerves overcoming you. “Promise.” 

His confidence was reassuring. His firm body, even more so. 

“Alright then.” You nodded and the engine roared to life.  

Daryl’s feet lifted off the ground, landing on the rests just in front of yours. He found his balance quickly, even with you wrapped around his back. The pace was slow at first, a steady crawl that seemed overpowered by the loud rumble of that engine below. 

Then, when he finally passed the lot, he shot down the street. 

You couldn’t even guess how fast he was going. The world around you started to slip away, a lost frame of reference. The trees lining the road blurred into splatters of green and red, like a watercolour painting, and the wind rustled through those strands of hair that hadn't made it into your ponytail this morning. Racing through the breeze, that chill came back. Cold, little shards of air splintering across your face and hands.

The sudden bolt of movement made your stomach drop, that fluttering feeling of emptiness finding its spot. It reminded you of riding a rollercoaster as a kid, holding your brother’s hand tight and putting on a brave face as the big sister. It might’ve worked all those years ago, but you were pretty sure he’d be laughing at you now. You squeaked like a mouse, digging your face into the warm leather at Daryl’s back. The threading of his angel wings tickled your face alongside your wild hair, and you felt that familiar rumble in his chest again. 

“Ya alright?” He yelled back. 

You sucked in a fresh breath of air and peeked an eye open. It felt like the bravest peek in the world— the blurry, fast world. Though still huddled behind Daryl, with a vice grip around his steady waist, you were sure it didn’t appear very courageous to anyone else. 

“Fine!” You managed to reply, “I just didn’t expect that.” 

His gruff voice was harsher when he had to speak over that deafening engine. You barely made out his next sentence: “Want me to slow down?” 

You thought about it. But by the time you understood his offer, your eyes had opened completely, almost adjusted to the speed of the world around you. You even sat up properly, looking to your left as he raced past a strip of abandoned cars. That floating feeling inside your chest began to feel less dizzying, like Daryl’s waist was a tether to gravity as the bike ripped down the streets. He was always positioned firm and steady, like that beat of his heart you could feel against your cheek. You trusted him to keep you solid, even as the wind picked up. 

“No,” you practically squealed with a newfound excitement. “Keep going!” 

Much to your increasing delight, he kept that speed until you noticed a group of walkers at the end of the long-stretching road. He slowed down to turn, the joy and carefree adventure stained with reality, once again. The engine was loud. You glanced behind as Daryl bolted back through the street you’d just gone down, the blurry heads of the dead turning toward you in the distance. It’d been as good a sign as any to head back, with the gas slowly dwindling too. 

When you reached the car garage again, the bike crawled back through the lot, allowing you to finally take a deep breath and catch that fluttering feeling in your stomach. The bike paused and the engine turned off. The stark difference in noise was shocking— some time down that road you forgot just how loud the engine was, and just how quiet the rest of the Earth was nowadays. 

Daryl sat back, hands limply grasping the handlebars, head bowed to the beast of a motor below him. He seemed content from behind. Relaxed. 

You leaned around his shoulder. “End of the line?”

He seemed to snap back into focus then, glancing at you. 

“Gas is runnin’ low anyway.” 

You nodded, but added hopefully, “Maybe we can find more?” 

“We should use it for the car.” 

You sighed, “I know.”

The engine was still warm underneath your legs. Your disappointment was just as fresh. That could’ve been your first and only chance on the back of a bike, for all you knew. 

“Good first ride then?” 

“Are you kidding?” You laughed. “I get it now. Horror stories be damned.” 

He chuckled, even throwing you another glance back. But the second after your eyes met, his grin fell an inch. He turned his face away, too, and it hadn’t only taken a second longer for you to notice how close he was like this. You still wrapped around his back. 

“Ya gotta move so—” 

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, climbing off the bike. Trying to steady yourself on the ground was harder than you anticipated; your legs felt like jelly, already missing the smooth leather beneath you.

Your eyes caught on Daryl's vest as he also got off. 

In front of you. 

The bike balanced on its stand, Daryl on one side and you on the other. Something caught his attention, just above your eyes. 

“Ya got…” He gestured with a lazy hand around the top of his head. 

Your eyes went wide, hand flying up to the wild mess of your hair. 

You patted down a patch. “There?” 

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, giving you the ghost of a smile.

You felt it again. Butterflies. 

Fuck. 

---

By the time you finished siphoning gas from the other cars, Daryl was done fixing the blue one. Throwing your few bags in the backseat, you climbed inside. You in the passenger seat, him behind the wheel. He liked to drive. It seemed to calm him, from that loose expression he wore. 

“We’ll keep drivin’ west, see wha’ we can find.” Daryl gripped the steering wheel with one hand. The other lingered by his mouth, thumb occasionally gnawed at. “Can siphon gas from the cars on the road. Hunt for food, sleep in the back.” 

“A home on wheels.” You rolled down the window as the car began to drift down the same streets you’d just sped through. The wind was softer than it had been on the bike. You already missed that terrifying, joyful freedom. 

There was another way you could chase it, you realized. You started to dig through the glove compartment. 

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” 

“CDs, hopefully.” 

His eyes flickered over you. Hair now brushed, let loose from that ponytail and tucked behind your ear as you leaned forward. The sun was still strong late into the afternoon, direct rays landing across the dashboard and reflecting onto you. It explained that glow you had. 

“God, I’d listen to anything at this point.” 

Daryl glanced over to the road, but his attention didn’t slip off you completely. 

It never seemed to, anymore. 

“Here.” You popped the cd from its case and rubbed it against the soft fabric of your sweater. “Can’t believe this is the only one. Who the hell owned this car?” 

Daryl’s lip twitched up at your soft snark. “You a music snob or somethin’?” 

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “I was just hoping for something better.” 

With one hand off the wheel, he clicked on the radio. Static rumbled from the speakers until he slid the dusty cd inside. The dark melody was slow, something that reminded him of those nights in the same run-down bar in the early nineties. A favourite of his uncle, then his brother, and while the pair of them served a stint in jail, Daryl’s. 

It was strange, feeling better off without your family by your side. But Daryl had all his life to get used to that thought. It wasn’t until he made his own family, then lost them, that he felt the opposite. He missed that group more than he could say, missed that feeling of purpose they gave him. 

Though, as the days rolled on, you were beginning to fill that ache in his chest, too. 

“Sure there’s nothin’ else in there?” 

You checked again, but it was mostly a polite gesture. There hadn’t been much in there, anyway. A pair of old gloves that you’d already stuffed in your bag, some tissue, the lone cd, and a brochure. 

“Only this.” You flickered through the pages of the sale brochure. It was for the development of a small community, units starting in the low three hundreds. The prospective opening date was off by a few years, though. You doubted they’d even broken ground before everything fell apart. 

“You really don’t like it?” 

“Ain’t exactly a fan,” he grumbled. There was a flash of disappointment across your face, caught in the corner of his eye. His frown lifted a bit. “’S fine, though. Ain’t a big deal, neither.” 

“What are you a fan of then?” You tossed the brochure back inside the box. “Now that we have a radio, next time I’m scavenging I’ll keep an eye out.” 

Daryl thought for a moment. “I dunno. Only really listened to what Merle liked.” 

You blinked, brows knitting a centimetre closer. 

“You spent a lot of time with him?” 

“When he was around.” 

Something stung in your chest. No, your heart. From the sparse details Daryl spared about his brother, Merle didn’t seem the reliable type. Every story he told was followed with stiffness. Those memories were distant and cold— the type of coolness that grew from hurt, not time. 

You knew to tread lightly. 

“What’d you guys do?” 

“Whatever.” Daryl shrugged. “Drank. Went huntin’. Nothin’ special.” 

“So you hunted even before this?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Merle taught you?” 

“My dad.”  

“Oh.” 

Daryl had never mentioned a parent before. Given the age gap, you’d assumed Merle had probably raised him a good chunk of his childhood. When he was around, anyway. 

That cold tone Daryl had for his brother extended to his father, also. A part of you wondered if that hurt had been deep, too. Maybe as deep as those scars on his back. 

It was an insensitive thought. Unfair. Daryl didn’t owe you anything, and he certainly didn’t deserve you stuffing your nose in his family’s business. 

“Do you like hunting?” 

“I liked the forest. Liked eatin’.” It was better than being home. “But I didn’t do it ‘cause I liked it. Was jus’ somethin’ I had to learn.”

With a nod, you went quiet. A softly contemplative look on your face. It piqued his interest, a flutter of nerves catching in his gut. 

“Why ya askin’?” 

“Just curious,” you answered. “You’re the only person I’ve had out here that didn’t jump at every snap of a branch.” 

“Well I got practice,” he said. “Stuck with a lotta city folk, then?” 

You turned back to him then, a sly smile hanging off your lips. “I’m city folk.” 

“Yeah, I figured.” 

You laughed, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Cause you’re jumpy, too,” Daryl scoffed. “Scared’a your own damn shadow.” 

“I like the forest,” you defended with a slight pitch to your words. It made Daryl smirk, too. “I just don’t like how dark it can get. It’s freaky. I’ll never get used to it. Maybe all those bright city lights mess with your brain after all.” 

Daryl nodded, and he knew the moment had presented itself. The tone shifted a bit serious when he finally asked the question that’d be pressing him. 

“Atlanta, then?” 

“Briefly.” You nodded. “My brother and I were visiting before everything happened.” 

“Heard it was bad there.” 

It was. It’d taken a long time to stop waking up in a sweat with memories of that night. 

Still, you shrugged. “It was bad everywhere.” 

“Yeah, but they weren’t droppin’ bombs everywhere.” 

“I got out before that.” 

Good timing.

“We were only there for two weeks. If the trip had been a month later, or earlier, we wouldn’t have been anywhere close to Georgia when this thing hit.” 

Daryl felt something fester in his gut. Anxiety? That distant, non-existent what-if made him shift in his seat. He could feel it looking over your side profile— the curve of your nose and lips, the soft flutter of eyelashes— and it hit him like that bullet had. Fast. 

It was true. You’d grown on him. He cared. 

“You’re not from Georgia?” 

You shook your head. “Nope.” 

“Explains the accent.” 

“Or lack thereof,” you countered. “I like yours though. It's charming.” 

Daryl scoffed, and you gave him a look. 

“What? I’m being serious. You have a nice voice.” 

A pretty shade of light pink scattered across his cheeks. You couldn’t help that loose smile you wore. It was nice to make him nervous, for once. Of course, you weren’t about to rub it in his face. You glanced away, eyes caught in the fast shades of green, orange, and red passing by the window. 

“What about you? Where were you at the start?” 

Daryl cleared his throat. “Same place I’d always been. Hometown.” 

“You never left?” 

“Nah.” 

“Not even for college or…” 

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he tried not to side-eye your reaction when he finally muttered, “Didn’t go.” 

Though that part of him that held all those pessimistic, self-doubts was a strong force to be reckoned with. He didn’t need to prove himself— never cared to before— but now here he was, sitting with that gnawing feeling in his gut, wanting to. 

And yet, you barely even shrugged. 

“I almost didn’t go, either,” you said nonchalantly, eyes running over the back of the CD case. “You ever wish you had, though?” 

“Nah.” 

“Fair enough. I think you could’ve been good at it, though. You’re very…” 

Daryl waited, brow hitched as you hummed. 

“Intuitive.” You’d decided. “You know, you have good instincts. Sometimes it feels like you know what’s gonna happen before it does.” 

He sat with those words a moment, then offered one of his own: “Observant.” 

“Yeah, exactly. Maybe you could’ve been a lawyer… Or a cop.” 

“Nah,” Daryl huffed. “Cops ’n I never got along well.” 

“No?” You teased. “You used to get into trouble, Dixon?” 

“Merle did. Guess I tagged along for the ride.” He shrugged. “Like I said, I was a dumbass.” 

“You being a dumbass— that’s hard to imagine.” 

“I didn’t have to,” he quipped. 

You smiled at the easy wit that always just seemed to flow from him. 

“So you didn’t leave town before this?” 

“Not really. Never even left Georgia.” 

“Seriously?” 

He shook his head. 

“Well, maybe after we pick up your friends we can go on a road trip.” 

Daryl gave you a look. It was questioning, sure, but gentle. “Plannin’ on stickin’ around then?” 

“Well, I uh…” you paused. Curiously, you hadn’t thought about it much. Since those initially tense first days together, the possibility of parting ways with Daryl, not because of a feverish worry or a herd, but because your shared journey had reached an end, hadn’t come to mind often. The two of you hadn’t been together long, but you’d already been through a lot. Patching the other up, too many close calls to count, sharing what little supplies you had… just to say ‘see ya!’ after everything felt wrong. Incomplete. 

“If you’d let me. I don’t really have anywhere else to go— anyone else.” 

“Alright.” Daryl nodded. 

It was a short acknowledgement. A single word. It still made you smile. 

Daryl wasn’t like most people. He was forgiving and insightful. He let you live when you probably deserved to die because he wasn’t like most people. All you knew about the others was that they’d earned Daryl’s loyalty at some point, and made their own way into his sentiment, too. If he trusted them, you hoped that meant you could too. 

Hoped. 

Worry crept back in. Maybe the others wouldn’t want you there. The stain of the prison could’ve been enough to taint your reputation, completely, even if Daryl vouched for you. And, if it came down to it, choosing between you and them, there was no doubt in your mind. He wouldn’t pick the girl he knew for a couple of weeks over his real family. 

It poured out faster than you meant. Words slipped, mumbled and stuttered, “You think they might— might wanna kill me? Or, I don’t know, cut me loose?” 

“Tha’ ain’t gonna happen.” Daryl watched the road. “They’re good people. Like you.” 

The weight of worry lifted off your chest again. He had a talent for that. 

You smiled. 

Good people. 

You tried to hide the flush at your cheeks and chest, glancing out the window. “How’d you find them anyway?” 

“At the start, Merle ’n I were in the middle’a huntin’. Didn’t even know ‘bout the walkers until I found one out there, ’n it tried to take a bite outta me.” 

“Shit,” you hissed. 

“Douchebag was all over me. Smelt somethin’ awful. I started yellin’, screamin’ at the thing. Punchin’ him. He jus’ kept coming, then Merle shot it.” He scoffed, “Thought I was ‘bout to serve hard time for murder, till Merle said he’d heard something on the truck’s radio ‘bout dead bastards comin’ back to life. We left for Atlanta after tha’.” 

“Refugee camps?” 

“Never made it. That was when we found the others on the road. We stayed up by a quarry for a while. It wasn’t safe, so we kept movin’, till we found the prison. ‘Bout a year ago.” 

“You stayed there a year?” 

Daryl nodded. “We lost a lot gettin’ there. Made somethin’ of it, though.” 

“I didn’t think anything like that could be real.” You shook your head. 

He met your look. It’d gone from smiling to serious in a few sentences. That slight bite at your lip, a quiver in your brow. 

“It was," he said.

“Do you think you could ever have that again?” 

Of course, he’d thought about it. Even if he tried not to, those memories of the prison and the community they built from a grey, desolate building— a prison— were overwhelming. It was the first time in maybe his whole life that he felt a purpose. People didn’t just depend on him. They accepted him. They liked him. 

He stole another look at you. That bloom of familiarity was deep in his chest, again. 

“Maybe.” 

---

Another hour passed. The sun was softer, a cold breeze shifting through that open window until you finally rolled it back up. You still stared outside, watching the trees slip by.

Daryl had traced the backroads back to the main road leaving the prison, and you’d been travelling west since. The same way he’d seen the bus go. It seemed strange that they hadn’t come up with an official rendezvous spot, just a last chance at loading on that bus together. But maybe a more detailed plan would’ve been useless anyway; places didn’t last long, nowadays. 

The car rolled to a stop. Your head lulled to face forward, finding a slight ache in your neck when you finally tore your eyes away from the window. A question sat at the tip of your tongue, about to slip when your eyes landed on the answer. 

Instead, you gasped, “Oh my God.” 

There, sitting in the road, was the bus. 

Splatters of blood painted the siding. A dozen or so bodies sprawled by the back door. Some were piled on top of each other, limbs mixed. Others lay alone. All of them had turned before they were put down for good. 

You could just tell. 

From the corner of your eye, you noticed his white-knuckle grip around the steering wheel. The veins in his hands popped out, muscle turned into stone, and there was no use in glancing up at him; you already knew that look of pain— despair— he had. Could practically feel him begin to bottle up every word, emotion, or care. 

You were the first one to exit the car. 

Goosebumps broke out on your skin as a cold breeze took hold. That chill sunk into your skin with the sound of the second door opening, and something stiff and heavy clouded behind you. 

It was coming from him. You knew that already. It made that pit of dread in your gut even heavier. 

Was it fury he was feeling? Grief? 

Even when you finally did glance back at him, lingering by the car's side, you still couldn’t say for sure. That glossy look in his eye was certainly bitter. Tense with emotion that you knew he was fighting to reign in. It left him with a dark glare as he stared at the dead faces of his people— the only ones he’d known for sure got out. He had practice keeping that type of anger silent. Not the one that made you punch some asshole at the bar, but the type that was born out of misery and regret. 

He’d been abrasive at the cabin. Then softer after the pharmacy. Even strained in the cottage, with you tending to his back. But he’d never forced himself numb before, not like this. You could tell he was holding back. A guttural scream, you thought, from the tension in his neck and that vein threatening to pop out where a swollen bump had been a few days prior. 

But his lips drew shut in a taut line, and he was quieter than the rustle of the trees. 

It made your stomach knot. Though, you were sure it was no worse than what he might have been feeling— if he'd let himself. His only lead: bloody, dead, and rotting in the middle of the road. If you’d kept driving, the tires would’ve ripped through decaying muscle and crushed bone. 

It wasn’t fair. 

The gas station. His wounds. The bus. These people, lying like trash on the road. No more significant than the withering leaves beside them. 

There wasn’t the time, nor the energy, to spend digging graves. But you dragged each limp body, one by one, to the side of the road. Right where the grass bled into the concrete, they laid. 

Sometime around the third body, Daryl began to help. He picked up the opposite limb with his good arm, then eventually his bad one too. 

Nothing but that gloss across his eye to tell you these people meant anything to him. He was retreating by the second. Crawling back into that ugly pit of animosity and cynicism that always seemed to have a spot waiting for him. Each body you moved reaffirmed it. Pushed him deeper as hollow eyes fell on the cold faces of the people he cared about. He fed. He protected. 

Or, tried to. 

It was never enough. 

-> part 9

A/N: so much happened in this part I mean... reader finally realizing she might have a lil crush on him... the bike ride... the car conversation... THE BUS

anyway. back to our regular scheduled bad shit happening to our fav fictional characters. if u have any predictions or thoughts, lmk :p

FYI: I'm expecting to miss next weeks posting. I have too much to do with exams, sorry! after that ill be graduated so lots of free time coming up lol.

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

[punch-love]

Can I ask how planned out your work for lp is? Like I know u said u have specific things in mind for each pov but are you ever like ohh I wanna add this scene, this scene would be fun? Or do u have like every chap and situations and whose pov per situation in mind where ur not really adding anything unless something calls for it because it would make more sense for it? Or something else entirely lol?

I have the ending planned, the reveal, and a few more "major" plot points that would be spoilers if I shared them. I think I plot similar to the way that you have points on a roadmap. I know what destinations I need to hit, but how I get to them is usually a lot more fluid. I usually write and rewrite the chapters over with different approaches, trying to figure out which one fits the story best. There are chapters that I write with a loose plan in mind that don't deviate too hard in the edit though. It really depends.

My beta also has a huge hand in each chapter - alongside doing the basic edits they also suggest structure reworks (last chapter they moved multiple scenes around), plot direction, and sometimes contribute prose/dialogue of their own that makes me want to move a scene into something else. This chapter, they suggested I move something in the beginning and stretch out another part, which is what I'm working on doing now in the second draft. I imagine it'll stretch and shift into new, unpredictable ways by the time it gets posted. I really don't like posting anything until I hear that near audible "click" in my head where a chapter finally connects to the last and is ready to be connected to the next. It just doesn't always click in the way I imagine it will when I sit down to write.

I would say love-punch is probably my most planned long work. I've spent the most time thinking about it, and it was created specifically because I wanted to write a specific type of reveal and ending that I hadn't really seen anyone else do. That being said, I was on a run yesterday and thought of a plot point that will drastically change the implications of the end that I really want to add. I don't know if I will still want to add it when the chapters get there, but it is constantly evolving and changing despite the path it's on being pretty set in stone.

[nereidprinc3ss]

we are sooo back i finally read pt 7 for the first time this morning i am here to give you my dissertation as usual spoiler alert i think u are everything good in this world

i really like how even though the part started off kind of high paced (if that makes sense) like i could Feel the energy & how passionate it was, it ended up slowing down a bit & they talked about things before deciding to continue because i’m sure that wasn’t easy to come up with and write 😭 i feel like figuring out how to start writing something is super hard & especially coming off the end of pt6 where the energy is hot and heavy LOL i feel like it couldn’t have been easy to figure out how to segway that into the beginning of a whole new part (unless it was easy cause you’re just good at everything nobody would be surprised) but i really thought that was so cool how you managed to do that in a way that felt natural & then get right back into the hot and heaviness later LOL and i think it’s funny cause like at one point in the series r was like it’s like spencer has sex and chaste affection on tap being able to switch between them & IT FEELS LIKE U DO TOO IN YOUR WRITING like you’re able to go back and forth so seamlessly and i think it is perfect i think you’re perfect

anyway this entire paet made me tear up 😭 i love love and everything about it just so so much and. everything about this was so so wonderful i Loved the callbacks to other parts in the series and the point that really got me is after he was inside and she said i love you to him and he just stopped and looked at her for a second because of his fantasy in andromeda 😭😭 like made me cry when i was reading that part too but seeing it here literally made me want to DIE because it’s like She doesn’t know what that means to him like she didn’t even know he was having all those thoughts about her and she didn’t know how scared and insecure he was thinking she wouldn’t love him back and he couldn’t even hear her voice in his imagination saying it to him like she doesn’t know all that BUT HE KNOWS AND WE KNOW and now that worry is gone like it was just such a perfect full circle moment and even though i reread the other chapter yesterday to prepare for this, that specific part wasn’t really the first thing on my mind when i was reading this LOL like i wasn’t reading and thinking “ok so when is she gonna say i love you” so when she said it and the connection hit me and then i saw his reaction it genuinely ran into me like a monster truck and i am serious like i physically had to put my phone down and then that’s when i started tearing up. like it was just so perfect and made my chest ache like they love each other so much i will literally fucking die Today

also when he said she was the most beautiful girl in the world and asked if she BELIEVED HIM like AND SHE SAID SHE DID like omfg the most full circle moment ever it was so perfect i just love how you incorporated all those points in so bad like that closure 🥹 and again it’s even more impressive cause this series was never supposed to have a plot LOL but i really loved the way you wrapped that in like u know how in a movie or show when they name drop the title and everybody squeals a little bit yeah that’s what reading that part felt like to me

and when they started talking about the cafe afterwards it was so sweet and lovely like reading it felt so cozy and warm and then my jaw dropped when he said lord byron’s name was ada because WHAT DO YOU MEAN like i am a self proclaimed connoisseur of the nereidprinc3ss cinematic universe as anyone who’s anyone should be and i had to put my phone down again because i reread toaster waffles for the 85th time last week and that sentence also hit me like a monster truck i’m not sure if you realize how many lives around the world were affected with that reference but i immediately knew where you were going with it and it made me cry MORE. also i need to know did u plan that from the jump when you were writing strange perfections cause that is so cool like u wrote toaster waffles ages ago and i know it’s not Really connected with dybmn but i just thought ada was a cute little name & that’s it like! like did u decide to incorporate lord byron bc u had alr chosen that name or was it just a coincidence like omfg u perfect little genius I WILL KISS U

and then the end when they both got so emotional i will DIE like it was so 🥹🥹 both of them were so sad and insecure for different reasons and now it’s. like it’s all resolved and happy and they all feel so loved and everybody gets to smile I WILL LITERALLY DIE RIGHT NOW and the way you add humor throughout is so effortless like they’re both about to cry and she’s like no more tears cause that would be LOSERISH i just adore everything about it

u are perfect and i love u i will probably be back with more thoughts later this is just my first read through but i felt so much and i loved it and i feel crazy about you spencer reid

i literally have post book depression right now LMFAO which is so crazy to say about a fanfiction series that was never even supposed to have a plot but i can’t help who i am unfortunately maybe it’s because i’m also on the last season of cm right now and all of a sudden i’m feeling Sad like wdym i do not want it to end STOP IT. but this was so perfect i love it and i love u i think u are wonderful and perfect and amazing u worked so hard on this series and i hope You love the outcome as much as literally everybody else does

& above all i really so truly hope u find the kind of love u write about i mean that with all my heart

🧸 love u

OHHHH MY GOD MY BEAUTIFUL PERFECT DARLING ANGEL FROM HEAVEN I LOVE U SO MUCH

like so much u truly have no idea seeing ur little teddy bear emoji in my inbox always makes me so happy cause ik im abt to FEAST like u always pick up on every single nuance and detail and make so many connections and it’s just so so rewarding ily

ok as for the toaster waffles/strange perfections connection, I don’t entirely remember if im being honest LOL i think it was a coincidence at first like yes ada in toaster waffles was named after ada lovelace, that was always going to be my spencer x reader’s kids name like regardless of the universe it just seemed fitting that he would wanna name his daughter after a rlly intelligent important historical figure. and then i was watching this video about lord byron and it mentioned his daughter and i was like holy shit i had no idea he was her dad and then i put it into strange perfections i think? but i wrote strange perfections so quickly and it was so unplanned that im not sure, i might have written it and then watched the video? idk i remember it feeling like more of a coincidence, i feel like i remember discovering this accidental connection i had put into the story and then tying it together in the end with some foreshadowing of the dybmn pairing eventually having a kid if that’s how u choose to perceive it but i truly don’t remember😭

anyways you’re so incredibly sweet and i love u so much u have no idea how much ur asks make my life. and you have no idea how much that last little part of ur message means to me truly:( like more than u could ever know!! you deserve all the love in the world thank you so much angel i hope you are having the best day im seriously hugging u right now 🫂 like that’s us i am hugging u so much!!!!

[literalite]

hi joseph! what are your thoughts on penacony arc? started it just yesterday and i'm not vibing with it 😭 afaik this is a pretty common feeling towards the beginning and especially 2.2 chapter but i've also seen people defending them. it's always intersting to see your opinion about any media in general, you have some insights i never really thought about. good luck on whoever you choose to pull!

omg hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii im so glad u appreciate my takes about these sillyyy gacha games rubs hands together lets get into it.. ive finished the whole story at this point but so sorry if i end up spoiling ill try break it up patch by patch

tldr; i think penacony is def a plot that gets more refined the further u go on, which i think makes sense because of how large and expansive the cast is to begin with they also throw like a fuckton of different plot points at u so theres a few different veins of thought u can chase in various directions. theyre going for more of a mystery and more morally ambiguous cast than the other planets/locations we've been to so far so i think its more a side effect of the genre so to speak. there's more room for error here and i admit i got tripped up at times esp in the beginning. i actually really liked 2.2 but it might be because my personal favourite penacony character got a lotttt of screentime, my fav patches have been 2.1 and 2.2 because at least in my opinion thats when the plot sort of tightened and wrapped up so it was less just stuff all over the place left to mislead us. this latest patch's story (2.3) is probably my least favourite but im still like sorting out why exactly. overall i think penacony might have had the best plot so far

2.0 - if one dreams at midnight aka black swan, sparkle and misha, and the introduction of penacony in general

the opening of this event/world was REALLY good i loved having acheron walk us through the hotel. probably one of the more engaging new gameplay tutorial processes i've been through and it raised so many questions (who is she/who is she to us/whats with the red text/WHAT IS GOING ON) that from someone who was admittedly not entirely sold on the whole dream hotel concept i was pretty easily hooked. admittedly i think the sort of concepts they were laying out for us in this new world are a lot more abstract than what we've previously encountered so i know a few of my friends ending up getting kind of tired of all the philosophical exposition and started just fast tracking their way thru the dialogue... which is a shame! yes theres a LOT of it and not all of it feels relevant in the moment but as someone who sat thru and read it all i think it was pretty solid. maybe they just need to get a bit better at being succinct

DGFghj the cutscenes and the characterisation in this patch were really beautiful moving stuff because i swear to u going in i didnt give a fuck about like. most of the cast like my only thought going in was oh i want sundays gender. but what i REALLY enjoy about penacony is that it felt like all the characters served a purpose in the story and there wasnt any characters just shoehorned in for the sake of more units to sell. does that make sense? for example in the xianzhou luofu i love that cast i swear but if you really look at them you could probably axe at least five of them from the roster and the main story would have remained exactly the same. like they appeared in the plot but they felt palpably unnecessary. whereas at least right now with all the playable characters that first appeared in penacony all played vital roles in progressing the story. i think for the amount of characters and how interesting they all are thats pretty solid storytelling, even if it amounts to just a lot of exposition at times. i liked the various clashing ideologies and paths it made for way more substantial narrative than any of the other locations so far

2.1 - into the yawning chasm aka the aventurine story ft. acheron

i think this patch had the strongest emotional story running through it, but i could be biased because i LOVE aventurine. to be clear i really didnt care about aventurine prior to playing through this story quest

im serious btw like i actually could not care less about him. it was solely the story quest that made me do one of my biggest 180s on him so far, and i know i'm not alone in this sentiment. i was actually really surprised they were spending sooo much time in his pov and mindset i think it was a decently bold move considering that we literally fight him by the patch's end- imagine if we'd spent half of belobog in cocolia's shoes for example. IT PAID OFF- i genuinely think the slightly less enthusiastic response to 2.2 is in part due to how fucking surprisingly amazing 2.1 was. i think acheron's presence in this one for me could have done with more but she has a stronger overall place in the narrative over the course of all of the penacony story quests that it somewhat balances out. the trailblazing crew took one hell of a step back for this patch but everyone was fine with that and i hope it encourages the writers and the devs to be okay with our like "main protagonists" being less of the pov characters. its interesting when you get to see other's lives, if anything for a gacha game it should honestly be encouraged? but anyways yeah this one was my fave patch on just the story alone

2.2 - then wake to weep aka robin and boothill's patch, as well as wrapping up the main plot of penacony AKA the sunday patch. to me.

i do think this one's story is a little weaker than the first two and especially in comparison to 2.1... but nevertheless i really loved it still mostly because i'd been waiting for sunday to unveil his true colours this entire time. the english va for sunday? fucking incredible it was the amount of just barely leased emotion holding on by the barest thread of control you could detect in pretty much every line he said that really hooked me onto the character. i think this update's plot is a little messy in terms of like pacing- at some points it dragged on and on others it felt way too fast but i adored the false ending and the whole twist of it all. some aspects of the story were admittedly really repetitive for some reason? a lot of the dialogue felt a little too overexposited- as much as i love the express crew when they're altogether they really just like yapping on about the same thing on repeat... i don't think the whole talent show thing was necessary LMFAO going into sunday's history lesson/mind palace construct would've been more than enough.

alllllso i get why boothill was here for this but at the same time of all the characters he feels the most... redundant? this sentiment is mostly influenced by the next patch because i really thought we were going to like actually go somewhere with his set up with aventurine but that kind of just.. didn't happen. like hes more necessary to this story than say, qingque or i guess bailu were for the xianzhou luofu but regardless his presence in this while amusing kind of lacked the oomph that all the other characters have had

this patch's cutscenes were definitely the best of all the ones we've seen so far, in my opinion, basically only rivaled by the aventurine vs acheron fight. all of sunday's scenes were chef kiss to the highest degree the way the line "through harmony, we obtain order" lives in my mind literally rent free. honestly i just like watching this whole thing

its fantastic. SUNDAY is our best villain so far hands fucking down i really liked the whole social contract aspect of his methodology. as much as people mischaracterise him sighhhh just the betrayal of his own sister in a bid to fulfill her dream, albeit misguidedly, is just so lovely and tragic i just. HRGHHH fucking phenomenal work. i know people got taken aback because sunday spent 2.1 being so focused on robin's murder, and i agree his turn straight back to his originally laid plans was more abrupt that i would have personally liked, but i still really enjoyed the whole thing fghjk. i am so biased because ive loved sunday from literally the moment his little chibi invited us to penacony at the end of the 1.6 stream (??) so every aspect of it was amazing to meeee. this patch had a slower build up to its climax than the others but its still my second favourite wuagh

2.3 - farewell, penacony aka firefly and jade's patch

im sorry this one is probably my least favourite ;-; they gave us really high expectations (the whole aventurine vs/with boothill ending, jade's introduction to penacony, etc etc) and i knowww this was always meant to be the last chapter of the penacony story so i shouldn't have expected them to unfold whole other untouched plot points at this stage but.... after all the high stakes of the rest of the story this ending while in some aspects kind of satisfying, fell short. for now! i expect them to bring the whole ipc scheming plotting thing back, they seem like a faction that will encounter a reckoning closer to the endgame of the story as opposed to being wrapped up right now. on an emotional level and specifically for the trailblazer and firefly's relationship, this was a fine patch! it was really cute... i just think that with how much emphasis we got on the pov of the other characters i really wish we'd spent time more with the rest of them. i guess i expected the ipc to bare their fangs a bit more here, but it still felt like it wrapped itself up cleaner than i would've preferred. sfdgfghjhkjk sue me i like chaos i want action i want them to fiiight... i guess it'll just be a matter of time though. not on this world, but maybe someplace elsewhere. we can only hope! in this regard i actually preferred the xianzhou ending, with tingyuns funerary service... it had more of a true weight to it than the goodbye the astral express gave the dead trailblazers and gallagher. they shouldve gotten a cutscene idkkkk

my brain is steaming so im gonna curb it here but basically in order of my fave to least fave the penacony patches go as follows:

2.1 -> 2.2 -> 2.0 -> 2.3

as someone who's only played genshin and hsr from hoyoverse i think this is a really good sign as to increasing complexity and depth to their characters and plotlines. the penacony narrative works because as self contained as it is it also presents us with a lot of questions and differing viewpoints that i daresay most of the other worlds both from genshin and hsr have so far been pretty much completely lacking. this really felt like a big beautiful puzzle getting assembled before our eyes and while the pieces didnt all seamlessly fit its just so much better than i am used to from this company im excited for the next worlds to come :D

[sanchoyo]

The real nanowrimo challenge is gonna be ONLY writing 1667-2000 words per chapter bc I think anyone who Knows Me and has read my fanfics KNOWS. I have said it multiple times. I am not gifted with brevity. My multi chapter fics were like, 4500-10000 on average…oof!!! And writing original fiction has the added challenge of making ppl enjoy and understand the characters whereas when ur reading ff u already know and like them… so I guess my two main Goals for nano (aside from the main goal of Finishing The Dang Thing in a Month) are 1. Get better at saying things more efficiently with less words 2. Make super memorable characters people have Strong Emotions about

But the outline is…70% done?? Which is good! I’m still working it out and I need to talk to my sister to really just work out some finer plot points (talk at I guess, like the rubber duck method lol)

and ideally I also wanna watch tmm before nano starts so I don’t get distracted by that but like. My original plan to watch it today/yesterday got busted bc my headphones broke and the new ones won’t be here till the end of the week and I absolutely REFUSE to watch it out loud where the sound quality won’t be as good. I want to HEAR WELL when I do watch it bc I’m sure the ost will be full of bangers and my laptop’s speakers suck 🗿 so maybe..I can finish both tmm and outlining by the end of this week…?? Fingers crossed?

[narutomaki]

the power this fic holds over me.

[cheeseburgersstuff]

Hi💖Can u pls write like steve rogera x reader, where steve got badly hurt in a mission and end up lossing his memory and forget about his wife(reader) and his marriage reader tries to help him remind.. lot of angst with a happy ending please..💗

Reminisce

Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: language, mistakes, shitty plot, kinda idiot Steve (not really) a Lil bit of angst...

A/N: thank you nonnie for the ask and I'm sorry it took me so long :') and still, it's shitty...

Word Count: 2.8k

master-list.

~

You ran towards the infirmary with tears running down your face. It might be an overreaction to someone else considering how he would be just fine but you knew he was hurt. You had a weird feeling before he even went on that mission, a restlessness inside you that you couldn’t express.

The sight made you stop breathing for a moment. “Oh Steve” you whispered seeing your husband laying on the bed embraced by the wires. The right side of his face was swollen, bruised, and a nasty cut on the left side towards his lips.

He was still unconscious. Doctor Cho came out of the room. You rushed towards her.

“How’s he?” your voice, hoarse because of crying.

She sighed and looked at you with sympathy. “Can’t say anything till he becomes conscious. But you can meet him now” she said with a smile before walking off.

You entered his room with shaky legs and sat near him. He looked tired, a frown covering his face that you wanted to smooth out with your fingers. But you were too afraid to touch his injured face, your heart cleaned seeing him like that.

putting your hand on his while resting your head on the space on the bed, a fresh tear escaped your eye.

--------

You woke up feeling a hand jerking away from yours. You sat up and looked at a confused Steve.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said trying to comfort him but he looked panicked. You went outside to call the doctor.

Steve was trying to free himself from the wires when you got back. You ran towards him to stop him.

“Hey, relax babe” you put your hands on him, causing him to stop. But before he could utter a word the doctor came in.

“Good morning captain rogers.” she greeted cheerfully coming towards him to check him up.

“What happened to me” was what he said.

The doctor kept checking his injuries. “You got severely injured on the mission. Kept everyone worried especially this lady here” she smiled, pointing towards you.

Steve frowned, his hurt hurting like hell. “What mission?” he didn’t remember going on any mission and why would you be worried about him.

“You shouldn’t be worried about me agent y/l/n”

Both you and doctor Cho exchanged looks at his words. This was getting serious.

Doctor Cho sighed and signaled you to follow her. You left a confused Steve behind and followed her.

A frown covering her face, “I think you have an idea what is happening to him.” she said, sympathy in her eyes for you.

Yes, you knew but didn’t want to accept it. When you didn’t reply she sighed explaining it to you. “He is having amnesia, most probably retrograde amnesia where he can’t remember things before the injury. We can’t say what he remembers what he doesn't but by the looks of it I think he doesn’t remember you are his wife”

“Yeah I know, he called me agent” it came out ruder than you anticipated but she understood your anger even though it wasn’t her fault.

“We will have to do CT scans to know how severe the damage is. And maybe he is going to heal soon because of the serum” she placed her hand on your shoulder. Her words soothe your worry a little bit.

“And you could help him heal too, it wouldn’t be easy though. You have to be careful not to overwhelm him with too much information” saying this she left, probably preparing for the CT scans.

With a sigh, you returned to the room. Steve was still sitting on the bed with his head in his hand. You sat down beside him, patting his shoulder gently so he wouldn’t get scared.

The soft eyes he gave you, reminded you of the time he came out of the ice. When you were assigned to guide him to cope with his new life. He had the same look when he was trying to understand how to use a smartphone and then looked at you with confusion, silently pleading for help.

He was asking for help again but this time you weren’t enjoying this, you were scared. What if he never…

“What’s the last thing you remember?” you asked softly.

“The last mission I remember is with you Nat and Rumlow, to free the hostages. But we came back, reported to fury, and then went home. That’s it” that was two years ago, a month before you two started dating.

So he doesn’t even remember us dating. You thought.

“Steve, I know it would be difficult to understand, to accept but what you remember happened two years ago.” you didn't know how much to tell him before he started to panic but for now he looked okay. Trying to take in the information.

You took the ring beside the table, they took it off his finger and showed him. “Um.. this is” you were hesitant to tell him but it was important. You showed him your hand with the wedding ring.

“We got married,” you whispered looking at him, trying to read his expressions.

You knew how emotional he was about his relationships, and suddenly knowing he was married would be a shock.

Steve took your hand in his and caressed the finger as if trying to remember but there was nothing.

Nothing, he could think off and smile. It was a bit painful to know you are married and not know anything about it. That day, your life with that person.

“Hey, it’s okay. You are going to be fine. We are going to retrieve everything back” you said his face in your hands.

You didn't know how you were going to do that or how much time would it take but right now it was important to give him hope.

He nodded and got out of your grip. Suddenly the doctor came in to take Steve for CT scans.

His ring was still in your hands, you didn’t give him, nor did he ask for it…

~

You brought Steve to your floor after the CT scans. You cleaned the bedroom especially for him considering how difficult you find cleaning your room.

There was an awkward silence between you two. You never felt this way with him even when you two didn’t start dating.

“You should change and take a rest, I’ll bring you dinner” you smiled to which he just nodded and watched you go.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like you anymore. He did like you, and with what he remembers he was thinking of asking you out but suddenly you are his wife and…

His head hurts thinking about that, so he laid on the bed thinking this all to be a dream.

~

You went to the kitchen where everyone was eating and talking. When they saw you coming they stopped and stared at you.

“I’m just here to make dinner for him. His head hurts constantly, I think he is thinking too much” you sighed. The team gave you sad smiles.

“It’s gonna be alright y/n,” nat said, coming towards you. She hugged you before you started making something for your husband.

You came back with a bowl of soup and saw him lying in bed with closed eyes but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. You sat near him and ran your fingers through his hair causing him to open his eyes. You smiled at him.

“I brought you soup, you have to take your medicines after that.” again just a nod and he took the bowl from you.

You got up and continued watching him, no glance at you, no smile, nothing. You knew you had to be patient but it still hurts seeing him behaving like a stranger.

With a sigh, you went to the bathroom to change for bed…

~

It’s been 3 weeks since lost his memories and you were trying very patiently to help. You were always there for him, wake him up with a smile, usually, you would kiss him but now everything stopped as he was distant from you. But now things were a little bit better as he would often give you a little smile. You made him his favorite food. You took him for walks and to dinner, where you two had memories.

Yesterday you took him to the restaurant where you went on your first date. You were noticing his expressions the whole time if he would get a spark of his past but there was nothing. And even if he felt something he didn’t show it. He barely showed any expressions now.

Today you were going to take him to the central park, that was where you took him first when he came out of the ice.

You personally had a lot of memories there with your family.

Maybe if you talked about the same things you did that day, that could cause an effect on him.

You sighed happily and went down the floor, to find him. He was on desk duty these days, which was funny. Considering the captain who always gave everyone else that pathetic job as a punishment, was doing it himself. And that everyone was mostly you, the favorite target of Steve Roger’s wrath.

You went towards his desk but didn’t find him there. So after asking FRIDAY you were heading towards the laboratory.

You were about to enter but stopped hearing their voices.

“I don’t know tony. It’s not like I don’t like her but…. She is being too much for me. She is always there, when I wake up I see her face, on breakfast lunch dinner. Then going to bed. And now she is taking me outside. It’s… so overwhelming.” Steve sighed.

Normally Steve Rogers didn’t babble his tensions out when anyone asked him what happened. But now when tony asked this question he couldn’t help but let out everything he was thinking for the past three weeks.

Tony gave him a sympathetic smile, “maybe you should talk to her then. Tell her she needs to give you space. She isn’t like that, Steve, she is worried too and maybe that’s why she didn’t even realize that.”

Steve considered his words and indeed before going out of the laboratory. You on the other hand left before he could.

Here you were trying so hard to help him get back to normal and he was taking you, as too much.

You marched towards your room and packed your stuff. Maybe you should shift back to your floor giving him his space back.

Well, you were being too much y/n. You thought. But for him, and if he had any problem he should have talked directly to you.

You sighed. He was normal with everyone but you, or maybe everyone was normal with him but you.

You took your bag and went back to the other floor. Now you also would try to be normal, acting as if nothing happened and wait for some miracle to heal him.

After making your old bedroom look presentable you decide to head towards the gym to let out your frustrations. But on the way you found Steve, who had the audacity to smile at you.

“Umm… I was looking for you,” he said softly. This made you even more annoyed. He was acting as if he didn’t bitched you to your friend just half an hour ago.

“Why?” he flinched at your tone which wasn’t meant to be that harsh.

“We were supposed to go for a walk” you sighed and gave him a forced smile.

“Not today Steve. I am a bit tired.” you were about to walk away but stopped.

“And Steve, I think we should stop this for some time. It must be overwhelming, huh, you know I can be too much sometimes,” you whispered the last part. He barely caught it but he heard. And watched you walk away.

~

One week passed and he was restless. You weren’t there, he barely saw you the whole day. He couldn’t even sleep at night. It wasn’t just because of the guilt of his words, it was your presence that soothes him, your warmth. Even though his mind didn’t remember his body was used to being around you.

He was in the kitchen making coffee for everyone when you walked in. and it hurt him when you didn’t even look at him and started preparing your breakfast.

“Hey, your coffee,” Steve said, passing a cup towards you.

“Steve she doesn’t drink black coffee-like, everyone” nat said looking at him.

Steve shocked his head, “no I didn’t make her—” he stopped in the middle of his sentence.

You looked towards your cup and it was filled with cream and an outrageous amount of sweetness, just like you loved your coffee.

You looked towards Steve who was giving you a nervous smile, while everyone remained silent. “Thank you” you muttered and walked out with your cup.

With a smile and happy tears in your eyes, he subconsciously made you a coffee. He remembered.

Still, that didn’t mean you are going to be on friendly terms with him.

~

The mission was successful but tiring, you were returning in the jet with Tony nat and clint. Sitting in a corner you smiled lightly thinking about the moments before going to the missions.

Steve came to you, “be safe” that’s what he whispered before giving you a peck on the cheek, hesitantly. As if you would slap his face hard for kissing you.

You chuckled before closing your eyes to take a nap…

~

He was sitting at the desk doing his work when Sherline? What was her name? Came to him with a more than a friendly smile. She was a new receptionist always needing help with stuff especially when Steve is around. She bent down when you walked in with a file on the mission.

Not again… that was what you thought. You knew what he must be on his display by the flustered face and the way he was averting his eyes.

He smiled hesitantly before trying to explain whatever that recipient girl was asking him.

“Captain Rogers” you called, with authority causing both of them to look at you. The girl instantly straightened and walked away before greeting you. Your eyes followed her as she went away before coming back to him.

The look of disappointment you gave him, reminded Steve of a memory, somewhere deep inside his head.

“Captain Rogers” your voice was stern as you looked at Sharon and then Steve. She was there for some work Fury asked her to do, and also got a chance to see Steve as well. You were annoyed from a hectic mission after a week to submit your report and seeing them together annoyed you even more.

“Hey y/n” Sharon greeted with a smile which you returned with your forced one. You marched towards steve and threw your file on the desk.

“Report,” you said before walking away.

With the same look of disappointment, you came near him and threw your file. Steve looked like a kicked puppy when he looked up.

“Report” the voice seemed like it was coming from a distance. He was watching you go away and involuntarily called your name.

“y/n” he kept calling but you didn’t stop. He left Sharon there and ran towards you. He grabbed your arm, causing you to turn. “What?” you spat…

He remembered, he remembered what he said after that, your wrist in his hand and you, still thinking what the fuck he wants?

“Will… will you go out with me” the words left his mouth. He suddenly smiled looking at your expressions. Your eyes got wet, while you chuckled.

“You..”

“Just a little bit” he whispered.

He took your hands in his, “look y/n I’m sorry about those words. I was just” but you stopped him. “I understand,” you smiled sadly. “Doctor Cho warned me not to be overwhelmed. I just got too much, I know”

“Will you give me another chance, will you help me with this?” he asked.

“Of course babe,” you said before giving him a long-overdue hug. It felt so good to feel him against you after so long, his arms wrapped around you. Now he felt like your husband.

“Now can you give me my ring back?” he said, showing you his empty hand.

“Hmm, lemme think about it. Think if you even deserve it or not” you said squinting your eyes at him.

He pretended to be wounded at your words only to receive a scoff from you. You turned and walked away leaving him there alone.

“Buy me dinner first, then I’ll decide” you shouted behind you, causing the captain to smile shyly.

[writingquestionsanswered]

hi! my story is set in the future and a lot of stuff is really high tech. it's about a gang of girls ages 12-25 who take down criminals and corrupt people and stuff.

I literally only just came up with it yesterday so I need help on writing this kind of stuff lol

Help Writing New Story Idea

That sounds like it will be a fun story to write! Here are some tips and posts to help you as you start off on this exciting writing journey:

1) Start Here: You have your story idea, now you need to flesh it out. You need to figure out who these characters are and what their world is like.

2) Plot or Character Driven: Next you have to decide if you want your story to be plot-driven, character-driven, or a little of both. Stories revolve around a protagonist (or multiple main characters) who have both an internal conflict and an external conflict.

The internal conflict is a problem that exists inside their heart and mind, like for example, Mirabel Madrigal feeling left out of the family because she doesn't have a magical gift.

The external conflict is the problem that exists outside of themselves... in their world. In Mirabel's case, the external conflict is that the magic is dying and both the casita and family are in danger.

Some stories, like Encanto, are both plot-driven and character-driven, meaning that both the external conflict and internal conflict are important in driving the story forward.

Fast-paced/high-action stories like the Jurassic Park movies or the Fast and the Furious movies are primarily plot-driven, meaning that the external conflict is primarily responsible for driving the story forward. The protagonist and other important characters may have internal conflicts, but they do not significantly impact the plot.

Lower-paced/lower-action "people stories" like The Fault in Our Stars, Riverdale, Euphoria, The Gilmore Girls, and The Hate U Give are primarily character-driven, meaning that the characters' internal conflicts are primarily responsible for driving the story forward. There may be an external conflict, but it serves as a backdrop for the internal journey the characters are taking.

3) Story Structure: If you choose to write a character-driven story, you don't have to worry as much about structure. Just think about the internal journey your character needs to make, and what needs to happen in order for them to get from Point A to Point B.

If you choose to write a plot-driven story, or a story that is both plot and character-driven, you will want to make sure you hit very particular plot points as the story's events unfold. You don't have to hit every plot point or hit them at an exact time or order, but to some degree, your story should have a Basic Story Structure.

4) Now, start writing!

If you need more help, visit my Plot & Story Structure master list of posts and read the posts from the top down. You may also find the posts in my General Writing and Genre Specific master lists to be helpful.

Have fun with your story!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Visit my FAQ

Find answers fast on my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions!

[actualbird]

first let it be said that i am a giant advocate for polycules. everyone in the nxx should be holding hands.

with that out of the way. HELP I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT VYN/LUKE. it is now crucial for my mental health to pick up this dynamic put it in my mouth like a dog toy and bite with the ferocity necessary to break the little noisemaker. i came for luke but vyn came for ME and now i will never be free.

i don't just need them to hold hands. i need them to play mind games with each other your honor. i need both of them to be hyperaware of what nonsense is going on, analyze it and hide it behind knowing smiles. i need them to then discuss said findings and come at it from two different angles, i need to see the battle of academics and firsthand experience firsthand. i need them to have deep academic discussions about their medical fields. i need vyn to call luke out and have luke bite back with unexpected ferocity and accuracy. i want them to get into such weird niche conversations the other members can no longer follow. i want them to try and figure out what is UP with the other parties secrecy. i want vyn to say some peak horse girl shit and have lukes only point of reference to relate to the man be a mark from 2 years ago that went south. he had to tail the farrier and he now knows way too much about horse anatomy. i need luke to drink instant coffee in front of the man who got a 20 year old pu'erh cake from yunnan for the evening who is currently looking on in barely concealed horrified fascination.

tl;dr: bark bark bark

-💚

heyyo, greenheart! and also this anon who sent this ask MONTHS AGO but finally my vibes are Aligned To Talk About Vyn/Luke

GREENHEART R U PSYCHIC? AND/OR FOLLOW ME ALSO ON MY PRIV TWT? cuz just yesterday on my priv twt i briefly went mildly insane about vyn/luke and YEAH EXACTLY THEIR DYNAMIC IS SO INTERESTING TO ME

at first glance, vyn and luke seem like characters who are LEAGUES APART. but in my prev analysis, "the nxx boys and bad things", i realized a commonality when i made the diagram in there

vyn and luke are both on the active end of the spectrum, in terms of their behavior and tendencies towards their respective "bad thing" but i wont into that again cuz i already explain what i mean in the analysis itself

what i do wanna delve into is how this active-ness makes vyn and luke's dynamic so interesting. like, vyn likes being in control and uses his expertise of it with no holds barred. luke has a very clear "i'll do it myself" mindset in so many situations. in moments that matter for one reason or another, they dont idle, they act.

it's almost as if theyre both on the "offensive", so to speak

to make this clearer, i'll bring up the only thing ive written thus far that focuses on vyn and luke's dynamic (not ship but still i feel strongly about this): chapter 5 of "filler episodes of the lost gold"

as context for u, greenheart, this fic is all little inbetween scenes of the plot heavy event Mystery Of The Lost Gold that happened back in september. i very VERYYYYY MUCH RECCOMMEND u watch recordings of this event because up to this day, it's my fave tot event of all time

but yeah, in this chapter, vyn and luke hang out and it's vyn pov and i wanted to put vyn at a disadvantage but i know hes also such a perceptive and analytical person. and ive always had this feeling that of all the boys, vyn would be most cautious about luke. afterall, luke is new on the team. vyn hasnt known him as long as marius or artem. additionally, luke comes from a background of espionage. all this makes vyn wary about luke, makes vyn want to "figure luke out"

but heres the thing about luke: very often we fixate on his tank/combat abilities that we forget hes an investigator

luke, adept at solving puzzles, can easily perceive vyn just as vyn perceives him. i would even go as far to say that luke, sometimes, has the upper hand. cuz i think vyn approaches the unknown with this mindset of "what are the weakpoints?" so that he can leverage himself to a place of control

luke does that too but also hes an engineer and inventor. hes not looking just at weakpoints. to metaphorize, he looks at things in terms of taking it apart and seeing what each piece means.

all that is why that chapter ended up like that.

and all that to say the like, vyn and luke's dynamic (be it romantic ship or platonic interactions) is so so sOOOO FASCINATING TO ME BECAUSE THEYRE BOTH ACTIVE, theyre both PERCEPTIVE, but due to personality and background, that active perception is different enough to keep the other on their toes

vyn would call luke out on all his unhealthy and over excessive self destruction. luke would call vyn out acting as if the whole world will regard him only with cruelty. vyn and luke r deffo two characters that, once they come head to head, would push each other to confront things the other probably wouldve wished to leave alone.

dumb overthinking meta aside, their vibes are just so HILARIOUSLY DIFFERENT AND IT IS DELIGHTFUL TO ME

vyn: luke, what are you drinking?

luke: oh this? homemade energy drink! i call it "Raise The Roof!" haha

vyn: and what is it made of?

luke: uh. monster energy, red bull, and kool aid?

vyn, at a loss: no

alternately

luke: aw man, i passed out on my bed a few nights ago after a mission and got bloodstains all over my sheets and they wont wash out >:/

vyn: oh?

the next day, a delivery comes to luke's doorstep and it's SINFULLY HIGH THREADCOUNT SILKY SOFT SHEETS FROM SOME EUROPEAN COUNTRY

[fukurodaze]

you!

pairing: miya atsumu x fem!reader genre: fluff, an atsumu and reader meet cute!! word count: 2.1k warnings: light cursing synopsis: atsumu may or may not have developed a tiny crush on karasuno’s substitute manager.

requested by anon <3 aah i’m so sorry i kind of changed the plot slightly :))

special thanks to maddie @prettysetterakaashi​ for the beta <3

LISTEN TO: all about you - nct u

the first time you meet miya atsumu, he is seventeen, wearing his number seven jersey, and so ready to whoop your team’s (and, really, anyone else’s) ass.

the arena is much bigger than you had dreamed - much like the ones you’d seen on television - like the sendai gymnasium, but multiply it by four. it’s loud, overwhelming, and teeming of air-tight pressure. you swear you could almost hear it: the wavering heartbeats, the rolling cameras, the competitive atmosphere.

maybe you had overdressed just a little bit. turned your tracksuit into a stylish oversized-padded-jacket-baggy-pants-tight-shirt situation. (you absolutely blushed when kiyoko said you were pretty today.)

out of the crowd of volleyball players gathered before the opening ceremony, you spot a faux blonde tuft of hair and a loud voice accompanying it. he nags at one of his teammates as he stuffs his coat in his bag. 

broad back. sloped shoulders. the number seven.

“say, is that inarizaki’s setter you talked about from camp?” slightly motioning to the side, you ask your fellow first-year, kageyama tobio.

kageyama nods sharply, “yes. why?”

“yachi told me that if we win the first match, we’ll be up against them. i heard they were runner ups for the last interhigh,” you mutter, “whew, scary.”

and extremely handsome, you want to say.

there’s a pause, and you continue, “i mean, not that we’re guaranteed to win the first match anyways. it’s nationals...”

kageyama shrugs at your statement, “it’s nationals.”

you remember yachi had told you to have faith in the boys. 

so when you heard the whistle on game point announcing karasuno’s victory on the first round, you couldn’t help but mumble an ‘i knew it’ under your breath by the bleachers.

but as you cheered, yellow water bottles in hand, voice an octave higher, you swore you felt a pair of eyes that ogled at you from the second floor. 

your senses were correct - miya atsumu was wondering what kind of volleyball team had someone as cute as you in all of japan. 

“eyes on their plays, not the managers.” miya osamu’s hand lands square on his twin’s back, earning a surprise yelp in response.

“they’re not even playing anymore! they just won!” atsumu gestures dramatically, but he keeps looking your way. 

“well ya better keep yer eyes on the ball tomorrow-”

“-and YOU need ‘ta jump higher for our new quicks.”

osamu sighs, and as they hear their coach calling them down, the two leave the second floor balcony in rare silence. he figures his brother might have developed a little crush on karasuno’s substitute manager. it was always common for his brother to develop some kind of attraction to someone from somewhere far, yet the way atsumu’s staring so intently has him thinking he might actually want to do something about you. 

“you’re weird,” osamu snickers.

atsumu furrows his brows in joking offence. “-isn’t that, like, rude?”

atsumu wasn’t, isn’t, and will never be the kind of guy who loses sight of the ball. ever. 

he reckons his peripheral vision has widened for this match and this match only, seeing as he feels an extra pair of eyes on him.

for some reason, he feels the need to play around a bit more today.

his sets vary even more in tempo, he’s spiked more than usual, and he can’t stop moving. it doesn’t help either that inarizaki’s ten-point lead in the second set only fuels his playtime. anything to rack up some more points.

although he’s stuck with jump floaters, he thinks flipping off karasuno’s super libero is almost enough to make up for his lack of jump serves, so he savours every time he’s in the back right, ready to serve. 

he doesn’t mind the gasps that come out of your mouth when he lands a service ace, either.

and as the set point goes to inarizaki with a lead that just seemed so right, atsumu promises himself to come up to you once inarizaki wins. 

he knows he’s going to win. 

his shoes feel light on the rubber floor, like he could squat down and bend back and jump up all he wants. his muscles are working hard, and his senses are on point. 

when he looks around, seeing the teammates he knows can catch his sets and karasuno preparing their defense, his eyes instead flutter to you, in the corner on the benches, holding desperately onto two yellow water bottles. you’re wearing a normal tracksuit this time, but he still thinks it’s cute. 

he tries not to think of you between rallies. not about how he’d like to see you cheer for him when he crushes your team. not about how he’s found the perfect dinner spot near the gymnasium to take you out to after the win. not about the satisfaction he’ll feel after seeing little tobio’s defeat and your hand in his. (assuming that a first date involves holding hands - atsumu’s never been on one.)

so, with only the third set left to win, atsumu doesn’t bother asking what could go wrong. because he knows to make sure that nothing, nothing at all, will result in a loss for inarizaki. 

oh, how he was wrong. 

when karasuno’s frustratingly good first year duo blocks his ball and sends it plummeting to the edge of the court, atsumu knows that the whistle that follows means that this might even be the last time he sees you this year - and what if you’re not at nationals next year?

the sting of losing comes first as the usual shaking hands and lining up to bow commences after the game, and as he says some last words to his teammates and school, he catches sight of you hugging the team’s other beautiful manager. you have tears of joy threatening to fall out of the corners of your eyes, and he admits you look precious with the edges of your mouth upturned and your cheekbones raised in a victorious smile. 

he wants to see you like this with him. although he doesn’t know you at all, he doesn’t want to miss you; yet he can’t pinpoint why.

so after calling to hinata and telling him he’ll “set for him someday” (it was half-spite and half-promise, but it came out as a threat), atsumu’s gaze fixes on the back of the other side of the court at the benches where you are. 

“‘tsumu, let’s go,” osamu calls back at him, and it brings him back to reality.

except reality’s a loss where he doesn’t get to see you in his life ever again. and though he’ll accept the outcome of a national-level volleyball match, he knows he can do something to at least catch up with you - he’s still got a few days in tokyo, after all.

“ah screw it!” atsumu mumbles to himself, and begins to suck up his pride. what he’s about to do will be either extremely embarrassing or extremely endearing, he thinks.

he walks up to the karasuno bench where you’re at the side, packing up the water bottles in a duffle bag to carry. you’re squatting down, unseeing of him, until there are a few footsteps and the feeling of a person behind you. you turn around, and it makes you stand up quickly.

you look at the setter, bleached hair untoned and face oddly satisfying to look at. you had paid a little too much attention to him during the opening ceremony, and though you had suppressed the knowledge of his ogling at you from yesterday, you can’t help but feel your attraction to the setter worsen with him right in front of you.

“you. meet me at the entrance,” atsumu invites, and though his face is obviously burning red, something about his words make your heart pump a little too fast.

it doesn’t take much contemplation to figure out your answer is yes. yet, somehow, saying yes while your heart suddenly changes its pace takes a little bit more time than you thought.

you’re about to reply when you see osamu call his brother loudly, making atsumu’s eyes go wide in embarrassment. you stifle a laugh, and you give him a subtle nod, though judging by the way he runs like he’s chasing an out-of-bounds ball, you reckon he might not have seen you. 

again, you’re correct - atsumu thinks he’s just witnessed his own death, running fast at one of his only attempts at ever asking someone out. 

how does one ask someone out? is it, like, ‘hey, wanna go on a date’? or is it, like, ‘hey i like you and i think you’re pretty and i tried to find you on instagram but i don’t know your name’? he agrees with himself that it’s safer to say the former.

atsumu is pulled back to his team, embarrassment seeping through his senses from his asking out on top of that familiar sting of losing. he changes into his sweatpants and jacket in silence, backpack worn tightly around his shoulders as the rest of the team walks through the venue.

“'samu, have you ever been turned down by a girl?” atsumu tries his best not to sound like he’s sulking (he is).

osamu hums, “what did you do to karasuno’s manager?”

“ugh, not telling.”

meanwhile, burning excitement and far-fetched fantasies finally hit you. 

your heart now beats fast - maybe not as fast as when karasuno had anticipated atsumu’s serve, but still fast - and you’re not sure what kinds of chances you’ll get in the future. 

there is an internal debate: there’s no denying the mutual attraction, so why stop? you want to tell yourself that nationals is for volleyball and for you to fill in for your friend yachi, but his words repeat themselves in your head, and it’s only mere seconds that pass before you know exactly what to do.

you come up to kiyoko, and she replies with a kind hum. you ask, “can i go... uh, buy some souvenirs real quick? i’ll bring this bag with the water bottles with me.”

she looks around first, “ah, how long will you be gone?”

“not long.”

“well, the boys are going to change, so, alright. don’t get lost, okay?”

“okay!” your feet bring you out of the court area, and into the maze of the gymnasium. (you have no idea where you’re going.)

it makes you think; is this all worth it for the stranger miya atsumu? maybe. maybe not. but you’ve gotten the chance - might as well take it. 

there are things you whisper to yourself as you run around the foyer, unsure of which entrance he’d be most likely to meet you in, so you end up running to all of them. there are around five entrances total.

“this is so stupid,” is one of the things you whisper to yourself.

“he’s not even that cute,” is another.

“why couldn’t he just ask me out normally?” a sigh at the second entrance.

“ugh, but he’s... so good at volleyball,” a remark at the third entrance.

and finally, at the fifth entrance all the way at the back, “you!” 

that is when you spot that familiar tuft of untoned bleached hair, swept to the left, his maroon club jacket replacing his jersey. you hope you’re not seeing a mirage, seeing as he hadn’t looked back when you first exclaimed of your presence. 

your voice is louder and more embarrassing than his, “miya atsumu!”

now he looks. 

now he turns red.

you see his brother osamu with some kind of amused grin as you grab onto the setter’s club jacket, dragging him somewhere. you mumble an ‘excuse me’ to his brother, and he surprisingly nods.

when you drag atsumu into a secluded corner still inside the venue, his face is bright red like you remember it. you let go of his arm, and it makes you cringe to see how you had literally just pulled japan’s number one high school setter by his sleeve.

“what was that?” atsumu fixes his bag. he tries to hide his incoming grin.

“you- you told me to meet you at the entrance,” you fumble with the ends of your jacket, “so i did.”

“huh,” atsumu mutters, matter-of-factly. he sounds amused. he looks at you with a smile. “i’m glad.”

there’s a silence as he offers to carry your bag. you let him.

“i know this place near this venue, do you- do you want to go there sometime?”

your ears perk up - it’s exactly what you want to hear. now, there is no contemplation.

you inhale. “yeah. i would like that.”

atsumu takes a deep breath, and he smiles like a happy child. you tell him your full name, and he tells you his, even though he knows you already know it.

it turns out, the first time you really meet miya atsumu, he is seventeen, wearing his dishevelled maroon club jacket, and so not ready to miss you.

and thank god; he was definitely going to see you again.

[myshyyangel]

BLs of 2020 *year in review(>×<?) *

Hi, it's me again. I just wanted to say first, this is my opinion, second, please, do not send me any message to tell me how wrong I am. THIS IS MY OPINION, feel free to comment on the post BUT don't send me messages threatening me. Anyways, as I said yesterday, today I'll do my list of bls that stood out to me and why, I mean the best lol.

7. Gameboys - good.

So gameboys, Woah! It was good. Great script, acting on point and direction. It was different obviously, but it managed to stay on top of "bls based on the pandemic that we are living while the bl was being filmed". The acting is on another level, it's funny in the right places and serious too. There was not much of one side and then nothing from the other. My problem with bls is how they tend to be unbalanced, and even if Gameboys was filmed during dark times, it managed to surprise everybody *I'm sure*. The side characters were not overwhelming, and the acting was good too. Yes. We love to see it. Re-watch value 8.5/10

6.Why r u - good-ish.

Why R U, so I was skeptical with this one, but I wanted to see how Saint (whom character I hated so much in LBC) would turn himself around and prove that he is a good actor. And boy, he did not come here to play. Zee was good too, and Tommy and Jimmy. Now, aside from them, it was a mess. So that's why my grading is good-ish. I skipped half of everybody else's story. These two couples were the saving grace, and like here's my thing... Overload. Wanting to cover a lot but you don't have to. Anyway, I'm glad we got to see the whole story completed now. It was a good series, the writing was a little questionable but the acting was there. The story was cliché, but still. Puuur. Re-watch value 8/10 but like only if it's the main couples. 6/10 if it's the whole series.

5.Mr. Heart - good, cute, aksjaks melt my heart.

Sooo... I just loved this series. The thing is, the actors were so likable and loveable that I didn't even care about how short it was. But I did re-watch it and some things need some work. The script was one of them, it was kinda confusing, but as I said, the actors are so charming that you need to watch it again just to pay attention to the whole thing. Anyways, the direction was good, and the color palette... LOVED IT. The story itself is a little cliché like almost every bl that came out this year. Re-watch value 8/10

Now MY TOP BLS OF THIS YEAR.

4.Where your eyes linger - excellent

First off, LET'S GO KOREAAA YAAASS. second, mmm Viki girl- I had to subscribe just for this series. Third, ugh It was so good. The acting, the script, the direction, the colors, the acting, aksjaksk what else can I say?. The production team did know where to take the series and in such a short time. Both actors shine and their chemistry is palpable. The music was perfect. I mean, best of the best when it comes to bls. I hate to compare but, how come Korea made this bl and it became UNFORGETTABLE and half of the bls that came out were all the same? I think it was bold to separate the main characters, I thought it wouldn't happen cause you know... Cliché. BUT IT DID HAPPEN and the best part is how the end comes fully in circle. Anyways, re-watch value 10/10.

3.Gaya sa Pelikula - unforgettable

This series is everything you wish every bl was in 2020. The lessons that they tried *and succeeded*to teach the audience, how to call an LGBTQ+ person, HOW YOU CAN BE RAISED BY PARENTS WHO ARE CONSERVATIVE and still not act like an AS*HOLE, the script was magic, the direction was on point, the acting. This series would go down in history as one of the best bls. Thank you to the actors, to the crew, and everybody else. Re-watch value 10/10.

2. 2gether - excellent

Polarizing at best. 2gether marked me, yes, it did. From the acting to the story. Yes, I know, "there are hundreds of bls similar..." not to me. And there's just so much I can take from this series, I even wrote a long character analysis on this app, but I'll summarize. Growers, there's character development, there are jokes and seriousness. And the plot is new *to me* so I was surprised. No character falls into the same category as other bl characters, and the energy the actors bring is just amazing. The color palette (yes, I am obsessed with it, it gives me different moods that's why I feel like it is important in a series) was beautiful, the music used was EVERYTHING, my only complaint is the direction, too many cuts (GMMTV girl you better stop). The cast shines. The finale is what was polarizing, no kiss, but I was sooo okay with it. Re-watch value 11/10, yes, I've seen it many times after it ended.

MY NUMBER ONE IS...

1. Cherry Magic. Excellent, unforgettable, chef kisses, best BL IN THE WORLD.

Cherry magic is the perfect example of why you don't need to have 45 minutes to make a good ss series. 20-24 minutes and we still got this much. Character development was there, cute moments... Everywhere to be found, the script is A HUNDRED for me, the director did not get me dizzy *giving actors screentime TOGETHER IN JUST ONE SHOT was just loveable, thanks*, the acting: out of this world. When you watch Cherry Magic, you feel like you are part of Adachi's world, or like you are watching a little kid growing up and you feel proud because of the decisions he takes. The same thing with Kurosawa, I've never seen a bl character like his, the guy is confident but respectful and it just makes you wonder if you'll ever find someone like that. The side characters didn't outshine but were not at the corner. That's what I call BA LAN CE. This is my favorite bl series of all time (which used to be DarkBlueKiss). I hope we get to see more, NO SPECIAL EPS PLEASE DONT RUIN IT. Re-watch value 1000000/10

What you guys think? What are y'all favs bls of this year? Some series I'm still on it like ITSAY and Hello Stranger. While there are some new bls that I'll review when they end.

Credits to the creators of the gifs, I do not own them, therefore if you see yours, message me and I'll add you, thank you.

Cr.gif 7

Cr.gif6

Cr.gif 5

Cr.gif4

Cr.gif 3

Cr.gif2

Cr.gif1

[bellasweetwriting]

Rescue Romance

Spencer Reid x f.Reader

(not my gif)

MASTERLIST

plot: you’ve been kidnapped by an unsub who fell in love with you, and Spencer is the one who rescued you

notes: extreme confident!reader, nervous!spencer, this is just a brainstorm of a book idea I had and decided to make it a spencer fanfic u know normal stuff

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of torture, mentions of rape, drinking, age gap (22-29), blood, injuries, criminal minds typical stuff

category: mostly angst and a little bit of fluff

word count: 3,9k

    "Y/N Y/L/N, 22, kidnapped in a club near the college campus while partying with her friends. Last seen at 1 AM, reported missing by her roommates when she didn't appear in all-day three hours ago," informed Garcia to the team while they were revising the case on the jet. "The New Haven PD is waiting for you at the police station."

    "Thank you, Garcia," thanked Hotch, but Garcia continued to talk.

    "There's something else you need to see."

    "What is it?" Questioned Morgan.

    "One of her roommates, Sandy Melville, has a channel where she posts videos of her life in college and with roommates. And Y/N appears in all of them."

    "You think this could be the work of a stalker?" Asked JJ looking at Garcia. 

    "Someone could've watched Y/N in the background of the videos and developed a crush on her," said Emily.

    "Not in the background," corrected Garcia, "she's the protagonist of the videos. Sandy followers love her, and I don't blame them."

    Garcia proceeded to show the team one of the videos of Sandy walking through the snow of New Haven. The three friends were on the sidewalk, and the camera was focused on you as you kicked the snow off to the street as you laughed.

     "Y/N you are going to slip and fall!" Exclaimed your other roommate, Liz, pointing the ice that was on the border of the sidewalk. You continued to laugh.

     "Don't be such a drama queen, Liz, and enjoy the snow!" You yelled with a smile. "Kindness is like snow ─ it beautifies everything it covers."

    "Kahlil Gibran," interrupted Spencer, surprising the team who haven't heard him talk in the entire trip. "It's a writer, he said that."

    "Don't be so poetic, Y/N!" Exclaimed Sandy.

    "Kahlil Gibran said it, and I live for those words," you replied. The camera quickly turned to Liz.

    "She's crazy," said laughing before being hit with a snowball on the shoulder. "Y/N!"

    You simply laughed, and the video ended.

   "There are videos of their whole lives," commented Garcia. "Sandy recorded everything and posted online."

    Spencer was still staring at the frozen image of you laughing. Something about it had your complete attention.

    "Ok, JJ, I want you to make a press conference, and then, you and I will talk to the roommates and ask Sandy if she recorded something about the night of her disappearance. Morgan, Prentiss, go to the club, watch the security tapes, see if someone was looking at Y/N or talking to her. Reid, Dave, victimology, go to her apartment and learn everything you can about Y/N, including maybe what attracted the stalker to her. Garcia, check conversations, someone that has messaged her, that she blocked, calls, anything you can get, see if there is anything suspicious. We'll meet back at the station with everything we found."

    Spencer grabbed your picture from the file. It was your college ID photo, and you looked stunning. Your hair was curled, your eye makeup was bright, different from the one's he has seen. Yours made your eyes appear bigger and shinner, while your lipgloss made shine your pink lips. 

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

    Rossi and Reid walked through your room, staring at the details of your walls, your awards, your photographs. You are intelligent, your bookshelves are filled with different literature books that could explain your knowledge.

    "She speaks French," announced Rossi as he grabbed your French edition of Candide by Voltaire. 

    "And Spanish," added Reid going through your notes in Spanish literature class. "She's smart."

    "She goes to an Ivy League School, we should've expected more than this," observed Rossi. "This is a clever, intelligent girl, she wouldn't leave with a stranger just like that, it doesn't make any sense."

    "Well, she was drunk," said Spencer. "She just finished finals, she's graduating with a Criminology Degree in two weeks and went to celebrate with her friends."

    "Finals are very stressful, and it was a college bar, so maybe she didn't have her defence mode on, she trusted the guy. Where is her dog?" Asked Rossi pointing the dog bed next in your corner.

    "With her roommate," Spencer replied. "It's not usually from a stalker to approach their object of desire without preparation, and a club is risky. Y/N had to know the guy and trusted him."

    "Or, she never saw him coming," whispered Rossi.

    "Do you think hhe attacked her from behind? It was a crowded club, someone must have seen it."

    "He could've put a knife on her back, asked her not to scream and walked her outside. She was drunk, so she was weak, she couldn't fight back. He had to know that. Y/N looks like a girl who can defend herself. Everything in this room screams confidence, her videos, her attitude, he had to kidnap her in her weakest moment."

    "For that, he had to know she would have her finals last week. What if we are not looking for someone who developt a crush through the internet videos, but rather someone who sees her every day?"

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

    You slowly opened your eyes. The room was dark, with just one dash of light entering through a small window near the roof.

    You were in a basement.

    Your hands were tied over your head, your feet lifted from the ground only letting the tip of your tow to touch the cold dirt under you. You exhaled. Your eyes felt heavy to open. Blinking was hard because opening them again felt tiring. 

    Your underneath t-shirt was filled was no longer red, your pants and sweater were missing, for some reason, your stomach hurt like hell.

    With all your strength, you look at it, having an idea what was it but being scared of it. You slowly focused your eyes on the red stain in your clothing and the cuts in your legs.

    You heard someone crying and took you a few seconds to realize it was you. You haven't sobbed in a while, in years maybe. It scared you. You were scared. All alone.

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

    Spencer and Rossi entered the police station and walked towards the table where the team was sitting. The whole board was filled with your information, your class schedule, your contacts, your credit card information, your grades, your family members, everything that Garcia could get from your computer.

    "What did you find?" Asked Hotch to Reid.

    "She's intelligent, she speaks three languages, and her whole life screams confidence, "look at me". It doesn't make sense she would leave the club with a guy and not tell her friends before in case something happens to her."

    "We think her stalker is not someone who watches the videos, but someone she knows. A classmate, a teacher, someone that knew her well to affirm that she finished her finals yesterday, and that will go to a particular bar to celebrate with her friends."

    "There are at least five different college bars that Y/N and her friends frequented," added JJ as she remembered what your roommates told her. "How did the unsub know she will go to that bar exactly?"

    "Maybe he heard her. If Reid's theory that the unsub is a classmate, she could've said it in class and he listened."

   "Ok," interrupted Garcia, "I found three blocked accounts in Y/N social media of guys trying to flirt with her but coming to strong that maybe worried her, but none of them is remotely near her, and I checked their entire background."

    "We checked the security cameras and the bar receipts," announced Morgan as he and Prentiss entered. "Neither she nor her friends bought any drinks that night."

    "They were sober?" Questioned Spencer.

    "No, someone bought them for them. Maybe our unsub."

    "My dear super friends," interrupted Garcia appearing on the screen. "I was checking Sandy's phone like you told me, and she did record last night at the bar."

    "I thought she said she didn't remember."

    "Well, turns out she did. Check this out."

    The video was clearly terrible quality. Sandy was moving and dancing around, making it impossible for the camera to focus. When she stopped, the team could clearly see your silhouette as you drank what it appeared not to be your first shot of tequila.

    "Y/N! Y/N! I'm dying to know," said Sandy drunkenly. "What is your plan after graduating?" 

    "Uhm," you whispered, trying to talk clearly. "The only thing I have available is the FBI."

    "Could you imagine," interrupted Liz between laughs, "Y/N with a gun?" 

    "I would look incredibly hot with a gun, what are you talking about?" You joked between laughs. "I don't know what it's outside for me. All my life, I've had everything planned. Study, get good grades, repeat. It can be scary doing something different."

    "Oh, please," said Liz as she was falling next to you. You were quick to catch her and put her arm over your shoulder, "you are Y/N Y/L/N, I bet everyone wants you."

    "I am a man who does not exist for others."

    "Ayn Rand," murmured Spencer.

    "You are a woman," said Sandy.

    "It's from Ayn Rand, you guys are so drunk," you laughed before turning around. "Where the hell is the guy who bought these for us?"

    You looked through the bar but didn't find him.

    "Hey, girls, I'll be back in a sec, I'm gonna pay for the drinks," you told your friends with a tiny smile.

    "Wait, Y/N, let's dance," interrupted Sandy, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the dance floor.

    "Morgan, who was the guy who bought the drinks for them?" Interrogated Hotch and Morgan quickly went through the receipts of last night. 

    "At least six people bought tequila shots last night. End of finals week."

    "Y/N felt the need to pay the drinks back," pointed out Spencer as he watched you danced on the screen. "Why would she do that?" 

    "She felt bad because he bought drinks for all her friends but wasn't hanging out with them?" Proposed JJ.

    "Or, something attracted her of him," whispered Spencer before clicking one of the videos in Sandy's vlog. "I was looking at this video earlier. Sandy asked Y/N how her ideal guy look like. Maybe the stalker watched it and tried to mimic it."

    "Why were you watching that video, Reid?" Asked Emily, and he shook his head nervously.

    "Research... for the case... yeah. Here it is."

    "My ideal guy," you murmured as you played with your little dog on your bed. "He has to be smart, but not cocky smart, he has to be humble. I hate mystery, so he has to be direct with me, with what he wants, I like that. Maybe tall, handsome, not afraid to talk to me. I don't know, Sandy, someone that can catch my attention without even trying."

    Reid paused the video just in time to see your smile to the camera. You were so pretty.

    He had to find you alive, he had to meet you.

    "We don't have time for a profile. Garcia, check the security video and look for a tall, good looking man that bought tequila shots between 10:30 and 11."

    Garcia was quick enough to show the security footage in the screen, pausing just in time to show a man buying the shots and telling the bartender to send them towards a table. Your table.

    "Who is that?" Questioned JJ, and Derek was quick enough to check.

    "Baby girl, look for William Klaus, Gale Andrews, Damien Ace and Ricardo Montero and tell me which one looks like the guy at the bar."

    "Neither of them," she said.

    "Can he have used another person's tab?" 

    "No, that would have involved other people to his concerns. He is meticulous, he doesn't leave a trail."

    "Did he pay in cash?" Asked JJ.

    "That many tequila shots? Who has that kind of money in hand? He had to use a credit card."

    "All of these kids go to private school. If he actually goes to college with them, he has money."

    "We are back to nothing. All of our eyewitnesses were drunk."

    "Except the bartender," pointed out Spencer. "He's gotta remember someone who paid in cash."

    "Ok, Morgan, Prentiss, go to the bar again and interview the bartender, ask for someone who paid for shots in cash. We will deliver the profile."

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

    "The man we are looking for is white in his late teens and early twenties. Tall, and handsome, probably talks smartly and is nervous around people, traits that he learned by listening to Y/N description of an ideal man."

    "It is a student on campus. We denominate this unsub as a Love-Scorned stalker, he believes that Miss Y/L/N is madly in love with him. He has probably seen her sometimes giving him glances, or smiling, and thinking they were for him."

    "This type of unsub is extremely asocial, does not participate in scholar events, does not raise his hand in class, and is remarkably intelligent, enough to get into a private school."

    "This unsub is not a killer but will become one the second his fantasy seems interrupted. Maybe by the same Y/N who doesn't want to play along, there's no way to know how is he going to react with her. We trust that Y/N will realize that she needs to pretend to be in love with him to survive, but we can't be sure."

     "In case of his fantasy being blinded or interrupted, he can get really aggressive and possessive towards her. He's been dreaming to be with her for so long that her rejecting him is not an option."

     "Stalkers commonly killed their objective of desire. The time in which they do, variates in how the victim reacts to them."

    "That's why we need to find her as soon as possible. Ask her classmates, teachers, friends. Someone has to have listened to our unsub suspiciously talk about her, maybe in a way that made them uncomfortable. Our unsub can't manage what he says in public due to his weak social skills."

    "Thank you," finished Hotch, and the police department broke apart, going separate ways. "She's been missing 20 hours, let's find her as quick as possible." The team divided, but Hotch stopped Reid before he could walk away. "Reid, have Garcia found Y/N's parents?"

    "No, uhm, her mom died, and her dad abandoned them when she was little. Her aunt is on her way, though."

    "Ok, thank you."

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

    "Dance," he ordered you, "I always loved your dancing. You danced for me a few weeks ago, remember."

    "It was a charity event for the school, Parker," you whispered. "I danced for everyone."

    "I'm not scared of you, ok? Do whatever you want. You want to kill me? Then do it, I'm tired."

    "I will never hurt you, Y/N."

    "Yes, you will. Stalkers always kill their object of desire, Parker, and you've been stalking me for a while, haven't you? You think I'm in love with you, don't you?"

    "Shut up," Parker whispered before you spit blood that you had in your mouth. "You are ruining this!"

    "What? Your fantasy? You aren't in love with me, Parker, you are in love with the idea of me. You don't know me."

    "I do... know you... I know you."

    "No, you don't. Just because you know at what time I leave for school, at what time I arrive home. Just because you know I walk my dog every afternoon and with who I hang out doesn't mean you know me. Parker, I'm more than a schedule, an object that you see walking through your binoculars. Just because you raped me and broke my arm doesn't mean you know my body. You can't love, Parker..."

    "Stop!"

    "... it's chemically impossible," you continued, "you don't feel love. You are missing one of the most beautiful feelings in the world, and it's not even your fault! You are a sociopath, and no matter how much you try, you will never know how the adrenaline of seeing someone across the room that you love feels like, you'll try to replicate it. You'll kill just to feel something, even if you don't want to."

    "Shut up! Shut your mouth!"

    "Kill me," you didn't even realize how you stuttered while saying those words. "It's the only way you are actually going to feel something. Kill me, because when you get in a mental home, the feeling of my blood running through your hands and skin is the only thing you are going to have, and you are never going to get it again. It's a drug that it's only going to work the first time. After you stab me with that knife, you are going to feel something for three seconds for the first time in your life, just so then, not feeling nothing at all for the rest of it. You must want it to be unique, right? Your first kill, probably your only one. So, light some candles, end my suffering... I'm not even going to feel it with the pain of my arm so who cares."

    Parker was staring at you, not moving, not knowing what to do, while you just look at him. You already knew that if you didn't get medical attention soon, the blood you are loosing for the cuts in your legs, and the pain from your broken arm were going to do the job for him, so you had nothing to lose. And making him spend his entire life in jail for murder was your goal.

    "Do it... kill me..."

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

    "Ok, so I did some research and found out that Y/N was part of this dance marathon for a charity event where an anonymous guy donated three thousand dollars just so she would keep dancing," informed Garcia. 

    "That's an enormous amount of money just for her to dance," observed Derek.

    "And that is not the creepiest part, I found the name of the donor, and it is Parker Edwards, he is an art and literature student, and please look at the last art assignment that he delivered for his final grade in finals week."

    Garcia showed them a gigantic portrait of you next to a creepy guy, not smiling, just staring deadly to the camera.

    "Well, that's definitely creepy," murmured Prentiss.

    "Do you have an address?" Asked Hotch.

    "House 365, 21st with Second Avenue."

    "Let's go."

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

    "Y/N, I need you to open your eyes," you heard someone whisper to you, and you slowly did. "My name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm with the FBI."

     "He didn't kill me?" You questioned slowly. Your mouth was dry, and you couldn't feel your legs. 

    "No, he didn't. Y/N, I need you to open your eyes, please." You nodded. He proceeded to untie you, and you let fall in his arms. "I got you, I got you," he mumbled. "Can you walk?" You glanced at him, for then to show him how you couldn't even put your feet straight.  "Sorry, stupid question, put your arm around me."

    "Not that arm, he broke it when he carried me in here." Spencer listened and changed sides, helping you to get out.

    As soon as you were outside, the smell was different. You were used to the smell of dirt and your own blood, that when the spring breeze of New Haven hit you, you couldn't help but to smile.

     "Would you join me in the ambulance?" You questioned, and he nodded. The paramedics got you inside and started plugging cables and hydrating you, but your eyes were just in Spencer. "You look young to be a doctor."

     "If I had a penny for every time I hear that," you chuckled. "How are you feeling?"

     "Like writing this in the experience box for my FBI academy application," you mumbled, now making him laugh. "I know that I'm covered in dirt and blood, and shampoo hasn't touched my hair in a while... but I'm actually pretty." He raised his eyebrows, noticing that the painkillers were taking effect. "Probably my legs look like the legs of a training object for ninjas with all of those cuts, but I'm a terrific dancer."

    "I know. I saw the videos that Sandy filmed. Of you dancing at the bar."

    "That's drunk. But sober, let me tell you, John Travolta got his inspiration for Pulp Fiction by me, true facts." He laughed. "Thank you for saving me."

    "It's my job, and it's going to be yours too."

    You chuckled.

    "You are cute, doctor," you mumbled before closing your eyes and being able to sleep for the first time in hours.

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

    October arrived. It's been months since the kidnapping and arrest of Parker, and it was your first day in Virginia for the academy. You were nervous, now more than ever. What if you didn't have what it takes?

     You were completely cured, and the doctor freed you completely, and the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

     You and the doctor had been talking for months now, and he was everything you dreamed of. He was smart, funny, he paid attention to you, and even though you guys were just friends, you liked him.

    You liked him a lot.

    "This pile paperwork gets bigger every time I look at it," whispered Morgan staring at the tower. "I had plans tonight."

    While Derek complained, Reid finished his and gave them to Hotch, and Morgan felt that as a personal attack."

     "Please, tell people that if you disappear, I'm the prime suspect."

    "Hey, isn't that Y/N from the New Haven stalking case?" Asked Emily to Spencer, making him look towards the door where you were standing, looking at him.

     "Be right back," said the doctor standing up and walking towards you.

     "What was that?" Asked Morgan to Prentiss, but she had no idea.

     As soon as he was closer, he hugged you, and you felt safe immediately. You've only had seen him a few times since the hospital, so every time you guys reconnected, it was like you both grew up even more.

     "Y/N, you look great."

     "I told you once that I was incredibly pretty."

     Last time he saw you, you still had cuts in your face and a cast on your arm. Now, you were like a different person. Like that girl, he once admired dancing in those videos months ago.

     "What are you doing here?"

     "Today is my first day in the academy," you let him know. "I wanted to tell you tonight, but I couldn't wait." He smiled. "Hey, so, I have a surprise."

     "Another one?" You chuckled.

     You took out from your pocket two tickets for a horror film festival the day before, and he glanced at them curiously.

     "We both love Halloween, so I thought it could be a great idea." He smiled.

     "I love it... Y/N, about us."

     "Don't say anything, you whispered, proceeding to kiss his cheek. "We will talk about it after. Bye, Spencer."

    "See you tomorrow," he said softly, making you smile before leaving.

    "Reid," Morgan called him, "care to explain?"

    "Don't you have paperwork to do?" Morgan laughed, watching him walk away with a big smile.

    "Pretty boy..." 

[spockandawe]

What are your favorite chinese webnovels? What are some of the differences youve noticed between cnovels and other types of novels?

That second question is really, REALLY interesting, and I really want to answer it well, and I am REALLY sure I’m going to do a bad job of answering it, so let me just noodle about that first question for a minute while I try to think XD

I went through some of my TOP-top favorite novels in more detail yesterday, but generally speaking, mxtx and meatbun are both at the top of the pack. They’re really good at writing compelling main characters and balancing piles of angst with plenty of humor and pulling everything together into a very satisfying ending (which is something I don’t alwaysssss see, even in some of the novels I really like). After them, The Disabled Tyrant’s Pet Palm Fish (transmigration, ancient chinese prince falls in love with pet fish) and Golden Stage (ancient chinese gay arranged marriage between bitter enemies(?)) are two novels that I love a lot, which both have very cute romances and go a bit lighter on the main character suffering front, and which I broadly recommend to anyone who’s interested in the genre. They didn’t end stick the landing QUITE as hard as an svsss or tgcf, but they still were very nice.

Then, let me see. I’m trying to remember which books I’ve read in the last year, and am doing a terrible job, haha. I will say that a book I enjoyed for like... eighty percent of it and then the ending let me down terribly was The Dreamer In The Spring Boudoir (modern day career woman transmigrates into barely-fantasy ancient china novel as the disliked primary wife of a nobleman), which is also the only straight webnovel I’ve read so far. The main character and romance were delightful, but that ending... haha, wow, I felt betrayed. But I did like the first half very much!! I’m idly contemplating a deliberately-partial reread. Then I’m currently like two chapters away from catching up with the current translation of The Wife Is First (ancient chinese prince lives out time travel fixit fic, determined to treat his spouse better this time around). I’m also catching up on Heroic Death System (transmigration, across MANY universes, where the goal is to die heroically in each one, and also maybeeeee to find his boyfriend in each one. this shit gets fucking bananas. in one of them, he emotionally seduces his boyfriend while he’s a dolphin. in another one, he’s a sentient mushroom. i’m in the middle of a section titled ‘I Am An Evil Pen’. yes, like a writing utensil type of pen. this is the weirdest book I’ve read so far). Oh, and Thousand Autumns (righteous sect leader gets sabotaged and loses a fight, wakes up blind and amnesiac, demonic sect leader is like ‘lol i bet i can turn him evil’ and accidentally catches feelings along the way).

What else... I’m keeping up with (but behind on) some others. First, there’s How To Survive As A Villain (modern terminally ill CEO transmigrates into stallion novel, wakes up as villain, accidentally seduces hero). Then, we’ve got Transmigrating Into The Body Of The Heartthrob’s Cannon Fodder Childhood Friend (only modern webnovel I’ve read, young man transmigrates into beginning of gratuitous whump book, back in high school, and is determined to protect the protagonist from all the canonical suffering). Then there’s Pulling Together A Villain Reformation Strategy (guy transmigrates into story as the hero’s childhood friend who will eventually become his enemy and get killed, successfully acts out his part and dies, completely fails to realize he’s broken his friend’s heart in the process... and then wakes up in another character’s body). And then there’s The Villain’s White Lotus Halo (a transmigrator keeps bouncing from universe to universe as a cannon fodder villain, who gets like half a line before being killed. he tries to purchase an upgrade package so he can be a COOL villain instead, but accidentally gets sold a ‘white lotus halo’ package instead, so that no matter what he does, everyone is just DEEPLY moved by his appearance and is positive he did nothing wrong). All of those are EXTREMELY delightful. You may notice a running transmigration theme, which....... yeah, I think there are a TON of delightful stories in the webnovel scene that deal with this genre, which seem so rare in English language media.

Which makes a good transition point to what’s different about the cnovel scene! I’ve seen hardly any transmigration stories in English, and I’ve got a couple go-to examples for when I’m trying to explain it, but like. Only a couple. Which is such a shame! Like, there’s the default idea of ‘I was reading this book and then I woke up inside the book!!’ but it’s clearly such an established genre that people are playing with it in all kinds of interesting ways, like in The Villain’s White Lotus Halo or Heroic Death System setups. It’s kind of wild to me, because it seems like such a gimme for a nice easy story structure? Whatever kind of world you want to present, there’s no need to introduce it to the reader from the ground up, or find a good way to hook them in. Either the main character read the book in question and can explain the premise and why we should care in pov, or the main character is new to the universe too, and trying to find their own footing. I enjoy it a lot! I’ve sampled transmigration books that didn’t grab me, but I’ve sampled way more that did. 

And then, the one semi-technical answer I thought of to this question was the way that these novels tend to handle pov. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule that regular novels are restricted to one pov, or that pov can only change at hard breaks in the story, but if I saw a bog-standard american novel glide from pov to pov the way these novels regularly do, I would tend to wonder if it was sloppiness or a mistake, or I would grump to myself about how I don’t like omniscient third person pov. And I still don’t know exactly what I think about this, or why it’s different in here, but I’m pretty sure I like it a lot, especially for stories where the romance tends to play a large part :V 

I used to read a lot of Books About Writing, and read plenty of stuff about why you don’t DO this, but.... I like it! In dtppf, Jing-wang can’t talk, and when Li Yu is a fish, he can’t talk, and drifting from one of their perspectives to the other gives me lots of useful information about how they’re both feeling. Could that be conveyed through restricted pov? Maybe! But I’m typesetting the svsss extras right now, and I’m in the bing-ge vs bing-mei section, and we get a few brief flashes of bing-ge’s thoughts, and it’s so NICE. It’s information I would not have otherwise received, because Shen Qingqiu sure wasn’t going to notice it. But early in the story, that pov was withheld from me, which also made sense (or hua cheng’s pov was withheld from me FOREVER, which makes me so sad ;u;). There don’t seem to be any hard and fast rules, which makes me really nervous about writing fic and trying to match the style, but I do like it a lot! 

And I’m definitely not able to articulate this in the way that I would like to, or speak with any real authority (I’m not that widely read in the cnovel scene, and i’m not very genre-adventurous in english), but there’s something about the role that the romances play in these stories that’s different from what I’m used to expecting, and it’s VERY tasty to me. I only rarely read romance novels, because I’m not often interested in the romance as a primary plot driver, but the romances in these books play a more substantial role than I’m used to expecting. And I’m into it! It’s a balance closer to what I’d expect from, like, a shippy longform fanfic. Which covers a lot of ground and is NOT a precise measure, but there’s more emotional weight given to the romance than I would expect, but without the romance carrying ALL of the emotional weight, and it strikes a perfect balance for me in a way I’m not used to encountering. Now, some of this could definitely be due to me not finding the right authors, or right subgenres, or whatever. But in the genres I inhabit, it’s a subtle difference, but one I find compelling.

Oh, one last thing. The cultural differences, duh :P I’m only familiar with things like, say, ancient chinese court etiquette through a lens of fan-translated novels like these, and I didn’t grow up steeped in the culture in a way I’m used to the trappings of something like medieval european courts. But there’s a distinct flavor to the social dynamics of these novels, from the formal levels down to the casual, and I know it’s super intricate and detailed and that authors play with differing degrees of historical accuracy vs fictional fun, and I wish I was better equipped to speak to the nature of any of this. But I find it really compelling! I recognize that it’s only new to ME because I didn’t seek out chinese media before now. And, the point that I originally wanted to get to before I got super distracted: the flirting. The flirting and teasing are a very different flavor from what I would expect in most english language media, and I love it, even if I can’t speak to how much of that is purely cultural, and how much of it is like... the conventions of How Fiction Is Written varying by culture, if that makes sense. I adore seeing what flirting and affection and indulgence and attentiveness look like in different settings, and these books, with their heavy romantic focus, absolutely deliver.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Not Perfect (JJ Maybank x reader) pt. 4

Summary: JJ Maybank is the one who makes sure your kook lawn is immaculate. Your family may look perfect just like the lawn from someone looking from the outside in, but it turns out you and JJ have more in common than you thought.

!!warning: This story talks about abuse through out, so if that’s triggering please don’t read. This is strictly fiction.

** PREVIOUS PARTS 

A/N: finally, part 4! I have had the worse case of writer’s block with this. I’m sorry it’s took me so long to get this out. This will be a 5 part series, so the next part will be the end! 

However, I have a new OBX fic in the works!!! Hopefully will have a preview out soon. I’m still deciding if I should write it with JJ, Rafe, John B or Pope. 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

As soon as JJ’s arms wrapped around you, you let go of everything you had bottled inside. You began to sob uncontrollably. No one knew about your abuse or the pain you went through. Even if they did, they didn’t care enough to help. But JJ, he’d suspected something. He knew your pain.

“Shhh..” He wraps his arms protectively around you, his hand going to your head as you sob into his chest.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry about everything.” You sob.

He shakes his head, “No don’t be sorry. Not like I haven’t been arrested before. Plus, they let me go as soon as I got there.” He pulls away to look at you, gently wiping a stray tear, careful of your bruise, “Let’s sit down, yeah?”

You nod and JJ leads you to the couch, taking a seat next to you, his arm still wrapped protectively around you. He had to admit, he was scared. Scared if he let go something else bad would happen to you. To see you broken like this, reminded him of himself. He wanted to be there for you like he’s always wanted someone else to be there for him; to hold him, to protect him and tell him it’ll be okay.

He looks up at Kie, “Go get some ice?”

Kie nods, “I’ll go get some ice..” She steps around Pope and heads inside.

“Your dad did this?” Pope asks, surprised and slowly sits down in the chair, “But…”

“He’s good at hiding it.” You glance around at the concerned eyes looking down at you, suddenly feeling small and helpless.

Kie steps back on the porch, an ice pack in hand, “Here..”

You take it and wince as you put it to your eye, “Thank you.”

She nods, taking a seat next to Pope.

JJ can sense you’re uncomfortable with all the eyes staring at you like you were in a cage. “How about we go out on the dock? Just me and you.”

~

You were thankful of JJ pulling you away from the pogues. It was awkward with all of their eyes on you.

JJ leads you to the bench on the dock, “I didn’t think you wanted them to all be staring at you like that.. They’re kind of in shock.”

You nod, sitting next to him, adjusting the icepack on your cheek, “Yeah I would be too. Finding out someone isn’t as perfect as they seem.”

“I don’t want to pressure you to talk or tell me anything. Just know I’m here for you.”

You give a sad smile, “Thank you, JJ.. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He takes a deep breath, turning his attention to the sun setting over the marsh.

~

“I’m sorry, my daughter isn’t here. I’m not sure where she could have gotten off too.” Your dad apologizes to the Cameron’s, “She had a run in with that Maybank kid.” He shakes his head, “He beat her up pretty bad. Took advantage of her.”

“That pogue is trouble.” Rafe says, “If you’d like, Topper, Kelce and I will go out looking for her? I think I may have an idea of where she could have run off to.” Rafe offers.

“That’d be great, son. Thank you for that.” Your dad shakes his hand, “Maybe you can knock some sense into her and keep her from getting around those kids.” Your dad jokes, chuckling.

~

“…and then he walked out.” You explain. You’d finally spilled about everything with your dad. What had happened after the police left. What you two were arguing about yesterday, which was about Rafe Cameron. When your dad began the abuse, how you guys moved away because your dad lost money and couldn’t pay off everyone to mind their business, like how he’s doing it now.

He shakes his head in disbelief, “I just…” He gently pulls you into a hug, “I’m so sorry.. I really am. Me and the pogues, we’re here for you.”

You relax in his arms, “I’m sorry I brought all this on you guys.”

He pulls away to make eye contact with you, lifting your chin to look up at him, “Don’t ever be sorry for that. You need help and we’re going to help you get out of this. Okay?” He carefully runs his thumb against your cheek.

You nod, leaning into his touch, “I guess we aren’t so different, huh?”

He chuckles softly, “No, I guess not.”

You move so you can lay your head on his shoulder.

He reaches over, interlocking his fingers with yours and kisses your head. It’s peaceful for a few minutes before a loud booming voice is heard in the distance.  

“Maybank!”

The two of you jump and turn to see Rafe, Topper and Kelce storming through John B’s yard, heading your way. Pogues following behind. You can hear Kie yelling at them for being on private property.

Your grip tightens on JJ’s hand. He gives you a comforting look, “It’s okay.” He stands and faces Rafe and the gang, “What the hell you want, Cameron?”

“I’m here to kick your ass for touching MY girl.” Rafe storms down the dock, pushing JJ’s chest. JJ stumbles back a few feet, breaking the grip you had on his hand.

“What the fuck you think you’re doing with my girl, Maybank?!”

You stand, “Rafe, stop, I’m not your girl!”

Rafe looks down at you, “He do this to you?” He points to your face. “I’m going to kill him,”

“No, he didn’t touch me!” You grab Rafe’s arm as he lunges at JJ again. “Stop it!”

JJ moves to step between you and Rafe, “You guys need to leave, now.” He motions between Rafe, Topper and Kelce.

Rafe chuckles, “Yeah okay. Let’s go, y/n. We’re leaving. Your dad wants you back home.” The mention of your dad makes you freeze. Rafe reaches around JJ to grab your arm.

JJ steps back in front of you, “She’s not going anywhere. She’s staying here.” JJ defends.

You can feel your heart beating out of your chest. The dinner with the Cameron’s. If you didn’t show up like your dad wanted you to do then he would visit your room again tonight. The next time worse than the last.

“y/n.” Rafe warns, going to grab your arm.

JJ shoves him back, “I said she’s not going anywhere.”

“Pogue, you are just asking to be punched.” Rafe steps up chest to chest with JJ, towering over him. You didn’t want to see JJ get hurt. Rafe would find some way to put the blame on JJ and JJ would go to jail. You knew you would have to face your father no matter what. No need to wait any longer and make it even worse.

You step around JJ, putting your hand on Rafe’s arm, “Take me home, Rafe.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to go with him.” JJ grabs your hand, “You can stay here.”

You bring your lip between your teeth, biting back tears. You force a smile, “It’s okay JJ.”

Rafe takes your other hand, “Let’s go. Your dad is waiting.” He begins to walk away, pulling you with him, but JJ still has a grip on your hand.

His eyes are pleading as he begs, “Y/n, please don’t go back.” He can see the tears in your eyes.

“JJ, you gotta let me go.” You try to pull your hand from his. Now your eyes are pleading with his, “Please.” You whisper, “let me go, I’ll be okay.”

JJ reluctantly lets go of your hand, watching as Rafe leads you to his truck. Topper and Kelce following. Rafe opens the door and as you climb in your eyes meet with his again. He sees you mouth something before Rafe closes the door. He thinks it was thank you, but he can’t be for sure. His mind was on the fact he knew exactly what would be waiting for you when you arrived home. He leans over the dock and vomits the contents of his stomach at the thought. After he vomits up everything, he begins to plot how he was going to get you and him the hell off this island, if you were willing to go with him.

Obx taglist:  @tregua-oca , @weirdbiwitch , @losers-club6 , @treestarrrrrrrr , @omgwhattheeven , @normatural , @lreincarnationl , @laurenron , @junkiemuppettxx , @beth-winchester21 , @divcrdown , @timotaychalabae , @moose-squirrel-asstiel , @tangledinsparkles , @prejudic3 ,@lanarichards5  @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch , @fratboystark , @nas-marie-loves-u , @sunwardsss , @annedub , @jellyfishbeansontoast , @turtlee-says-rawr, @fanficscuziranout , @wellthathappened2 , @write-from-the-heart , @louisolos , @outrbank , @sunset-d-rive , @family-buisnes , @traumaflavouredjuulpod , @http-cherries , @k-k0129 , @mileven-reddie , @eclecticpuppyhollywoodhumanoid , @cinnamon-roll-seth , @teamnick , @rockyyc77 , @ellojustafangirlhere , @sataninsatin , @lordsagittarius , @helplessquotess , @katerosexx , @kiarasgold , @thee-sex , @sunshinemadds , @ceruleanjj , @colie-babi​ , @ilovejjmaybank , @laubluered , @lcil123 , @notmcchkn , @ceruleanjj , @fangirlvoice , @maybebanks , @lolitstiana , @danicarosaline​ , @obx-beach , @katiaw2 , @hardyxlove , @kaelyn-lobrutto24 , @obxmxybxnk , @lasnaro , @thedarkqueenofavalon , @you-got-me-starry-eyed , @poguestyleskye , @poguesnobx , @godspeedlover , @coni-martina , @kaylinfayezink , @loveylangdon , @blossombxby13 , @thelovelydreamer17 , @chasefreakinstokes , @daddydobrockk , @you-got-me-starry-eyed , @kkmikayla  , @thatweirdblonde , @bananasfromtarget , @popcrone818 , @fanficsrmylife ,

*if your name is crossed out tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me tag you :( 

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​​

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 24, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

On Monday, we learned that after last year’s election, John Eastman, a well-connected lawyer advising former president Donald Trump, outlined a six-point plan to overturn the outcome of the election and install Trump as America’s leader. They planned to cut the voters’ actual choice, Democrat Joe Biden, out of power: as Trump advisor Steve Bannon put it, they planned to “kill the Biden presidency in the crib.” This appears to have been the plan that Trump and his loyalists tried to execute on January 6.

That is, we now have written proof of an attempt to destroy our democracy and replace it with an autocracy.

This was not some crazy plot of some obscure dude in a shack in the mountains; this was a plan of the president of the United States of America, and it came perilously close to succeeding. The president of the United States tried to overturn the results of an election—the centerpiece of our democracy—and install himself into power illegitimately.

If this is not a hair-on-fire, screaming emergency, what is?

And yet, Republican lawmakers, with the notable exceptions of Representatives Liz Cheney (R-WY) and Adam Kinzinger (R-IL), have largely remained silent about the fact that the head of their party tried to destroy our democracy.

The best spin on their silence is that in refusing to defend the former president while also keeping quiet enough that they do not antagonize the voters in his base, they are choosing their own power over the protection of our country.

The other option is that the leaders of the Republican Party have embraced authoritarianism, and their once-grand party—the party of Abraham Lincoln, the party that saved the United States in the 1860s, the party that removed racial enslavement from our fundamental law—has become an existential threat to our nation.

Democracy requires at least two healthy parties capable of running a government in order to provide oversight for those currently in control of the government and to channel opposition into peaceful attempts to change the country’s path rather than into revolution. But Republicans appear to believe that any Democratic government is illegitimate, insisting that Democrats’ calls for business regulation, a basic social safety net, and infrastructure investment are “socialism” that will destroy the country.

With Democrats in charge of the federal government, Republicans are cementing their power in the states to support a future coup like the one Eastman described. Using “audits” of the 2020 elections, notably in Arizona but now also in Pennsylvania and Texas, Trump loyalists have convinced their supporters to distrust elections, softening the ground to overturn them in the future. According to a new poll by NORC at the University of Chicago, 26% of Americans now believe that “[t]he 2020 election was stolen from Donald Trump and Joe Biden is an illegitimate president,” and 8% believe that "[u]se of force is justified to restore Donald Trump to the presidency."

Arguing that they have to stop the voter fraud they have falsely claimed threw the election to Biden, Republican lawmakers in 18 states have passed more than 30 laws to cut down Democratic voting and cement their own rule. Trump supporters have threatened election workers, prompting them to quit, and have harassed school board members and local officials, driving them from office.

Although attorneys general are charged with nonpartisan enforcement of the law, we learned earlier this month that in September 2020, 32 staff members of Republican attorneys general met in Atlanta, where they participated in “war games” to figure out what to do should Trump not be reelected. The summit was organized by the Rule of Law Defense Fund, the fundraising arm of the Republican Attorneys General Association (RAGA), which sent out robocalls on January 5 urging recipients to march to the Capitol the following day “to stop the steal.” In May, RAGA elevated the man responsible for those robocalls to the position of executive director, prompting others to leave.

In states where Republicans have rigged election mechanics, party members need to worry about primary challengers from the right, rather than Democratic opponents. So they are purging from the party all but Trump loyalists, especially as the former president is backing challengers against those who voted in favor of his impeachment in the House in January 2021. Last week, one of those people, Representative Anthony Gonzalez (R-OH), announced he was retiring, in part because of right-wing threats against his family.

Trump loyalists are openly embracing the language of authoritarianism. In Texas, Abbott is now facing a primary challenger who today tweeted: “Texans deserve a strong and robust leader committed to fighting with them against the radical Left. They deserve a leader like Brazil has in Jair Bolsonaro…..” Bolsonaro, a right-wing leader whose approval rating in late August was 23%, is threatening to stay in power in Brazil against the wishes of its people. He claims that the country’s elections are fraudulent and that “[e]ither we’ll have clean elections, or we won’t have elections.”

Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA) today used language fascists have used in the past to stoke hatred of their political opponents, tweeting that “ALL House Democrats are evil and will kill unborn babies all the way up to birth and then celebrate.” Yesterday, the leader of Turning Points U.S.A., Charlie Kirk, brought the movement’s white nationalism into the open when he told a YouTube audience that Democrats were backing “an invasion of the country” to bring in “voters that they want and that they like” and to work toward “diminishing and decreasing white demographics in America.” He called for listeners to “[d]eputize a citizen force, put them on the border, give them handcuffs, get it done.”

Today, we learned that the 2022 Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) will be held in Budapest, Hungary, where leader Viktor Orbán, whom Fox News Channel personality Tucker Carlson has openly admired, is dismantling democracy and eroding civil rights. When former vice president Mike Pence spoke in Budapest earlier this week at a forum denouncing immigration and urging traditional social values, he told the audience he hoped that the U.S. Supreme Court would soon outlaw abortion thanks to the three justices Trump put on the court.

Establishment Republicans who are now out of power are not on board the Trump train. They are quietly backing anti-Trumpers like Representative Cheney. Former House speakers John Boehner and Paul Ryan, former Florida governor Jeb Bush—who was widely expected to win the Republican nomination in 2016, only to be shut out of it by Trump—and former president George W. Bush's former adviser Karl Rove have all donated money to Cheney to help her stave off a challenge from a Trump loyalist in the 2022 election. Next month, former president Bush himself will hold a fundraiser for Cheney in Texas.

Other establishment Republicans currently in power might be staying quiet about the party’s slide toward authoritarianism because they are simply hoping that the Trump fire will burn itself out. The former president is no longer commanding the crowds he once did, and his increasing legal woes as well as the investigation into the insurrection will almost certainly take up his time and energy. The mounting coronavirus deaths among his unvaccinated supporters also stand to weaken support for his faction.

But the fact that Republican lawmakers have ignored the Eastman memo, which outlines the destruction of our democracy, suggests that the party, which organized in the 1850s to protect the nation against those who would destroy it, has come full circle.

—

Notes:

https://bbj.hu/politics/foreign-affairs/world/budapest-to-host-cpac-in-2022

https://www.kptv.com/former-president-george-w-bush-to-hold-fundraiser-next-month-for-liz-cheney/article_8ba92a10-7103-5ee0-94ef-4bd813437e28.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/09/24/arizona-audit-just-destroyed-big-gop-lie-more-ways-than-one/

https://www.exposedbycmd.org/2021/05/04/more-staff-flee-gop-attorneys-general-group-after-it-doubles-down-on-insurrection/

https://bbj.hu/politics/foreign-affairs/world/budapest-to-host-cpac-in-2022

https://abcnews.go.com/Lifestyle/wireStory/pence-hopeful-supreme-court-restrict-abortion-us-80185222

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/republican-ags-group-sent-robocalls-urging-march-capitol-n1253581

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/09/16/us/politics/anthony-gonzalez-ohio-trump.html

https://kansasreflector.com/2021/09/08/kansas-ag-aides-attended-war-games-summit-where-group-planned-to-combat-biden-win/

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2021-08-17/more-than-half-of-brazilians-disapprove-of-bolsonaro-poll-shows

https://www.mediamatters.org/charlie-kirk/charlie-kirk-deputize-citizen-force-put-them-border-order-protect-white-demographics

https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2021/07/23/brazil-bolsonaro/

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[from comments]

Mobiguy

It is time to call this out as what it is - a well-documented attempt to overthrow the government, led by people too unconcerned or too stupid to worry about leaving a paper trail.

The January 6th sheep currently in court are not the problem. It's time to round up the ringleaders of this attempted coup and prosecute them on an open and shut case of treason.

Reasonable people insist on framing this coup as a robust political debate, but reasonable people are wrong. It is a naked power grab, an assault on the popular will, and blatantly illegal. Three evidence is there, in the seditionists' own hands.

A crime has been committed, even if it was unsuccessful. Failed bank robbers don't get to walk because they got no money. Failed murderers are still prosecuted. The evidence is there for all to see, and the alleged criminals aren't denying it. They're doubling down, and we're letting them. Either prosecute them, or remove the treason laws from the books since they're clearly meaningless and unenforceable.

In short: lock them up.