pomegrnate

[mossterious]

I finally got some proper photos of my puppet, Belvedere!

[wntrs0ldier]

AN OFFER II · 04

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: mafia, language, violence, mature themes, dark themes, smut, punishing, spanking, edging, toxic behavior,

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

series masterlist

The situation you got yourself into was strikingly similar to your last date with John Walker — you were sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying not to show how much you needed some man's favor. There were also a few differences; seated in front of you was not John, but Adrian Lancy, it was not about a marriage proposal and your future, but the future of your gallery, and most importantly, Bucky had no idea about any of this. Although, he knew you were going out — he would have noticed your disappearance anyway — but you told him you were having dinner with Connie. You didn't think Bucky would want to make sure that was really the case, but you preferred to be safe than sorry, and asked your friend to lie if necessary. Connie didn't even think about it; she agreed before you finished your sentence.

Earlier, you didn't see Adrian as a threat — he didn't seem like someone who would go too far to get his way. Nevertheless, you were all smiles between the meals. Why? Because facing the fact that you had a husband, rather than just imagining it, caused some unexplained change in him, and from a sensible young man you were pinning your hopes on, he became someone gripped by a obsession; his propositions for meetings sounded a little more aggressive, lost their previous lightness, and you eventually grew afraid. Not about yourself — whenever the ring on your finger entered your field of vision, you forgot about any fear. It seemed to you that no one could hurt you, not when you bore the name of Barnes. 

But the gallery was different.

“I'm going to Paris soon,” Adrian began. “On business, of course, not for pleasure,” he added, as if you were to take him for a man who has nothing to do but travel. 

“Mhmm.”

“I thought you could come with me,” he continued. Surprised by the processes that must have occurred in his mind, you raised your eyebrows. “You know about art,” he hurried to clarify, “and I'd love to buy some pieces for my new apartment. I will pay you for this service.”

“You know that there are people you can actually hire for this. People you won't spend that much on.” You tilted your head to the side, watching him carefully. “Because I am expensive. Very expensive,” you said, hoping to discourage him. 

“I want you.”

“Adrian…” you sighed. “I can't come to Paris with you just like that.” 

Not hiding his disappointment, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Well,” he shrugged casually, “if you don't go with me, you won't see any more of my money. And I'll make sure that no one will ever invest in you again. In short, I will destroy you, Y/N. So you'd better think it over and give me an answer by the end of the week.”

Refusing to let any negative expression cast a shadow on your face, you watched him. You couldn't give him the satisfaction, even if, when agreeing to this meeting, you didn't expect it to turn out this way. The change you feared earlier had just taken a full turn — much faster than you thought. “Sure.” You forced a sweet smile. “I’ll think about it.”

A waiter appeared at the table. At first you thought it was just a routine check; that he was making sure you weren't missing anything. Only after you gave him a little more conscious attention did you notice a bottle of wine in his hands. A very expensive bottle. As if Adrian wanted to let you know that he had the resources you needed, and that he was spending his fortune on something as unnecessary as wine, which was only meant to impress.

But Adrian seemed confused, too. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any wine.” 

“I was told it is from Mr. Barnes.”You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling an unpleasant warmth spilling all over your stomach. You stared at the bottle in a stupor. So he knew — Bucky knew very well where you were, which meant he also knew who you were with.

You weren't sure how long you had been standing in front of the door to your apartment, but eventually realized that such behavior qualified as absurd — the accompanying fear, that you had been convinced you lacked only a few hours earlier, was undoubtedly irrational. Or at least that's what you had to trick yourself into thinking in order to finally grab the door handle. 

You hung up your purse on a hanger and slipped the high heels off your feet. You were able to name at least five much scarier situations that had occurred in your entire life, yet you couldn't recall the last time you felt this kind of anxiety. You didn't even understand where it was coming from; after all, Bucky cared about you; he couldn't harm you. 

When you turned around, ready to go deeper into the apartment, Bucky was standing at the end of the hall, right by the exit. His damp hair, loose t-shirt and sweatpants, fresh wounds on his knuckles indicated that he must have been after training with Steve. You swallowed hard at the thought that Bucky, having found out where and with whom you were actually spending time, needed to beat something, in this case, fortunately, a punching bag.

“Was it good?” Bucky asked, approaching you slowly. “The wine,” he clarified. Without taking your eyes off him, you nodded cautiously, causing him to squint. “What is it?” His mouth curved into a playful smirk. “You’re not scared, are you?” 

“I can’t really tell…”

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

You gawked at him — at the stern expression on his face, at his darkened eyes and reddened, slightly parted mouth. Whatever he intended, you could feel yourself getting wet.

He grabbed your wrist; it ached from the power of the pressure Bucky wielded, but the feeling only intensified the sensation. He dragged you behind him, and you almost tripped over your own feet — he wasn't walking that fast; it was your limbs that seemed frail and numb. 

“Bed,” Bucky commanded as soon as you reached the bedroom. Massaging your sore wrist by instinct, you went in that direction, your steps wobbly. You settled on the middle of the mattress. Bucky came closer. “Turn around.” 

Captivated by his massive, heavy frame, under which you hoped you were about to end up, fascinated by the calmness and dominance he radiated, you couldn’t stop looking at him. 

“Turn around,” he said again, much slower than before. “I’m not gonna ask you again.” 

Your mouth went dry. Finally obeying his order — not in fear of the consequences, but looking forward to further development of the situation — you turned around. Bucky placed his hand between your shoulder blades and with pressure forced you to lean forward; so you landed on your knees, additionally supporting your hands on the mattress. 

He lifted your dress above your hips, a quiet snort escaped his mouth. “You fucking kidding me?” Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head, hooking his fingers under the hems of the lace pants you were wearing. He pulled the material lower, completely exposing your ass, sending a wave of heat over your entire body. 

You got up one knee first, then the other, making it easier for Bucky to strip you of your underwear. Then, he grabbed a piece of your dress and pulled you to him; as your hands detached from the mattress, he reached for them and tied tightly with your pants. The fabric, digging into your wrists, turned out to give you a surprising amount of pleasure.

Bucky pushed you forward again, this time far harder. Deprived of the possibility to support yourself, the front of your body fell on the bed, while your ass still remained up. All you could do was turn your head to the side — other than that, you were completely helpless, dependent on his mercy.

It seemed, however, that he didn't have any for you. You realized this when you felt a sharp, piercing pain, accompanied by a loud clap — Bucky’s hand landed on your ass cheek, and it landed hard. Shocked by this new and unfamiliar sensation, you shouted, your eyes filled with tears. 

Bucky spanked you again. Your body trembled, and only a muffled gasp came out of your mouth this time. 

Another slap — you felt your skin burning and stinging in that spot, getting more and more tender; you were painfully aware of this as his hand, once again, smacked your ass rapidly. You moaned, your back arching, your pussy almost dripping, asking to be filled. But that sweet torture was nearly as good. 

“More?” he rasped, breathing heavily. You weren't sure how to respond; he was punishing you, so if you asked for more, would he actually give you what you wanted? And if you refused, would he stop? 

“Y/N,” Bucky pressed. 

“More,” you replied quickly, your voice weak. 

“More what?”

At that moment, your mind wasn't in the best place for the logical, coherent sentences he always expected from you. “I want you to spank me more. Please,” you exhaled.

“You don’t wanna talk, so I’ll make you use your words. Make that pretty mouth of yours work.” 

Bucky fulfilled your request, and you almost jumped up on the mattress, clamped your eyelids shut and let out a loud whine — that one was definitely stronger than the others, causing goosebumps all over your heated body. 

The bed sunk behind you, signaling his arrival. The t-shirt he had thrown off landed silently somewhere on the floor. Your lips parted, releasing a long moan as the tip of his cock brushed hard against your wet, throbbing cunt. He buried into your core painfully slowly and lazily; you felt his hardness spreading inside you, filling all the space you could give him. 

Bucky clenched his hands on your hips and began to thrust into you. The pain radiating from your cheeks mixed with the surging pleasure, creating a combination you could quickly become addicted to. Gasping loudly, he pounded into you again and again; immediately he reached to your head, slipped his fingers into your hair and tightened them there. He turned your head to the side so he could see at least part of your face — the changes taking place on it. He wanted to control your pleasure. Because as you, stimulated by spanking and waiting, began to get closer to an orgasm faster than you could expect, Bucky suddenly stopped. He slid out, leaving behind only emptiness and a devastating lack of satisfaction.

“Jamie, please-” you choked out. 

“Don’t Jamie me,” Bucky replied sternly. He leaned forward, putting the weight of his body on yours. He pulled your head slightly away from the mattress, his mouth hanging right next to your ear. “You lied to me today, Y/N.”

You nodded immediately, ready to agree to everything he wanted. 

“You know that what you did was wrong? Hmm?”

“Yes. Yes, I know. And I'm sorry.”

“I don't want your sorry. I want you to never lie to me again. You are my wife and I won't have it, do you understand?” he said, the words seeping out through his teeth. 

“I understand, but please-”

Bucky clenched his fingers harder in your hair. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You promise what, Y/N?” he inquired impatiently, although at that moment it seemed like he had all the time in the world.

Taking another deep breath, you gathered the strength and all the concentration you had in you to say those few words he cared so much about. “I-I promise to never lie to you again.”

Bucky moved slightly away, left a kiss on the nape of your neck, then straightened up. He entered you again, and again you felt that blissful fullness. At first you got the impression that he was still fucking some discipline into you, but the rising sensations made you think that he was actually rewarding you for understanding your mistake and promising to do better.

In that position — with your hips up — his dick quickly found the right spot and hit exactly where it needed to. Wet, well lubricated with all your juices, it was sliding in and out smoothly, bringing you more rapture than you could beg for. With loud, desperate cries, you were praying to your god, taking his name in vain — the one who was just fucking you senseless. Because Bucky couldn’t be just a human; he was too perfect, too beautiful, too merciful as he forgave your sins. 

You clenched around his cock, your eyes rolled back as consciousness left your mind. Apart from the overwhelming release, you also felt Bucky's load spilling into you; he, too — with a few last thrusts — let out a few whimpers, crowned by a throaty growl, and his body slumped against yours. His chest, pressed to your back, rose and fell as he tried to normalize his breathing. He pulled away from you to free your wrists as quickly as possible; your hands dropped lifelessly, too weak and too useless.

“Let’s clean you up, hmm?” Bucky suggested; surprisingly gently for the man he was just a moment ago. 

“I want to stay here,” you muttered with half of your face still in the bed sheets. Once again you felt his body pressing against yours as laid a tender kiss behind your ear.

You woke up to an empty bed. 

Your sore body covered with a blanket, the curtains closed. The watch on the nightstand said four in the morning. 

The urgent need to use the toilet dissuaded you from further sleep. You didn't feel fully awake until you were in the shower — as the warm water washed over your body, you wondered where Bucky had gone at such an early hour. You hoped that three months of hard work in Italy would give him some more space here in New York.

You got out of the shower, removed the remnants of your makeup, brushed your teeth, then returned to the bedroom. Curiosity was stronger than tiredness, besides, you felt rested enough, maybe even too awake for any more sleep. You put on one of Bucky's t-shirts, rummaged from his side of the closet, and left the room. You didn't have to search for long — the warm glow pouring out of the living room immediately caught your attention.

Bucky was sitting on the couch — under the light of the lamp standing over him, he was looking through some papers scattered on the coffee table. Full concentration on his face, marked by a deep wrinkle between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you spoke. 

He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Checking the account statements from Sapphire Dune and Marble Aurora.” Rubbing his eye, Bucky sighed with clear tiredness. 

Your forehead creased as the names of your father’s casinos rang in your ears. You haven't thought about them once lately, so you wouldn't expect it from Bucky either. On the other hand, your Family's affairs were now his concern. 

With your arms folded across your chest, you walked closer to the couch and peeked at the documents. “Something wrong with them..?”

“No,” he assured, smiling softly. “They’re doing really… decently.” 

“So maybe I should stick to them…” you murmured. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows, watching you with a surprise. He reached out his hand to you in an inviting gesture. You took it and sat down right next to him; so close that your thighs touched. He didn’t say a word, waiting for you to tell him everything that was bothering you.

“I lied to you earlier too,” you confessed. “I lied that I don’t need money. And it’s not like I have to close the gallery in a week or something, but…” You gasped. “Some funding is always useful. And Adrian seemed like the perfect sponsor until-” you hesitated, shrugging. “But now he is acting weirder than ever and-”

“Did he do something to you?” Bucky asked right away, interrupting you.

“No, he didn’t,” you protested. “A couple hours ago, he offered me a trip to Paris,” you began, and Bucky’s forehead furrowed at those words. “He said no one will ever invest in the gallery again if I turn him down. And I can't afford it, I can't ask for your money, because I want to make money, not take it out of the house-”

“Y/N, you make money,” Bucky claimed, demonstratively lifting one of the papers. “It's all here,” he added, his brows drew together. “Besides, is using my — our — money really worse than selling your time to this fucking creep?” 

Feeling more and more resigned, you let out a heavy breath. “Bucky…”

“You don't like him, you don't feel comfortable around him, the business isn't going as you would like it to. Or am I wrong?” He was looking at you expectantly, although he didn't actually need any confirmation — he saw the answer written all over your face. He touched your cheeks, his fingers spread on your skin, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “You are my wife, and it is my job to take care of you. You have to let me do exactly that, Y/N.” 

Staring relentlessly into his eyes, filled with sincerity and concern, you took his hand off your face and placed a tender kiss inside it, brushing your lips over the scar there; the scar bonding you forever. “Okay,” you whispered. 

You pulled your legs up onto the couch and snuggled into his side. Bucky put his arm around you and rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

A silence settled in, filled only with your peaceful breathing — it didn't bother you or Bucky, since neither of you felt the need to break it. You thought it would be much more difficult; that you would need far more time to get used to him, especially after his last absence. But having a huge couch with plenty of space to occupy, you decided to deprive yourself of whatever space there was.

“Are you going to elaborate, in any way, on what you did to me earlier..?”

“Elaborate…” Bucky repeated. He exhaled, blowing some of the air out of his lungs, then rested his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I've wanted to do it since that night when I saw you in that little nightgown of yours.” He raised his brow. “And that's about it.” 

You sat up straight, your eyes on Bucky’s face. “That night?” you asked in disbelief. “As a punishment for what?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Did it really feel like a punishment to you?” 

Even if you were able to answer him without hesitation, you looked away to think about it. Or pretend to think about it. You bit your lip.

“Did it feel good..?” Bucky inquired, his tone gentle and careful. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Very good,” you said, not sure if you should really admit it. “We can do it more often,” you suggested, and Bucky’s eyebrows rose instantly. Taken slightly aback, he peered at you with sudden liveliness, his eyes sparked with fascination that struck him like a speeding train. “What?” you laughed softly, but then understood something — you always sensed a gentle restraint in him, keeping him in check; the chains holding him down. Now, you were able to hear them break. Was it you who destroyed them? Your innocent permission?

Bucky smirked, shaking his head, letting you know he wasn’t going to be too harsh on you. But as harsh as you’d allow him to be. 

He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees, and reached for one of the papers so he could return to analyzing the documents. You clung to his back, placing your chin on his shoulder blade. He immediately located his free hand on your arm, wrapped around his torso. 

“Go back to bed,” he said, his eyes still focused on the statements. 

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not,” Bucky assured right away, “but aren’t you tired, sunshine?” He turned his head as far as he could to glance at you at least from the corner of his eye. Taking the opportunity, you stretched out further, to reach his face, and planted a few quick but tender pecks on his cheek, making him laugh softly.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

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[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER EIGHT

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past." CHAPTER CW: IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULT ((not from simon))

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1400 HOURS

"You're movin' too much, still."

"You are quite literally breathing down my neck.  Kinda hard not to."

"Yeah, well, get used to it, love.  'Cause at this point you're always gonna have someone looming over you."

You huff, unamused, and it clouds out in front of your face as you squint through the scope of an unloaded rifle.  Gloved hands grip the machine as you focus the scope on a point far-off at the other end of the course. 

Four hours you've been out here, now, running a sniping simulation.  The rest of your squad was split up in pairs across the vast landscape.  You were left as the odd one out and, seeing as Walker had originally planned to just stick you carelessly in with another group, Simon volunteered to partner with you instead.  Keep things equal.  Which basically—as your superior—meant he had an excuse to sit back and smoke while you did all the work.

The exercise was simple; climb the mountain, find your post, sit and keep watch for flags until the next team tags you out.  A sniping exercise as well as a strength and conditioning one.  

You both made quick work of the mountain, ice picks cracking against the ice.  Simon never really considered himself the competitive type, partially because he never needed to be and partially because there was no point—he's worked hard to ensure he's always the biggest guy in the room.  Today, though, something in your growing annoyance as he yelled down keep up, sergeant or watch your footing every time you lagged behind stirred something in you, which in turn stirred something in him.  It quickly became something of a race.

When his pick slipped and you finally surpassed him as he skidded down a few meters, he heard your laugh for the first time against the wind.  For some reason, it made him smile, too.

"I hate sniper duty," you grumble.  "Don't know how you do it—sit in the snow for hours."

"Same way I put up with your whiny ass."

"And what's that?"

"Patience."

You roll your eyes, but your lip quirks up into a smile nonetheless.  A sight he's grown more accustomed to over the course of the past couple days of training and conversation.  He's helped you out in little ways, stopping by the shooting range to offer some constructive criticism as you practiced, offering dietary and training advice to get your strength up, sticking his neck out for you when he could around Walker…among other things.  As it would turn out, you were good company.  Whiny, maybe—but good company, nonetheless. 

You were improving, too.  Temperament and strength-wise.  How much of it is due to his company rather than his guidance, though, he isn't sure.

"You're not funny," you retort.

"You complained the whole way up the mountain, love."

You huff and shoot him a look.  "Did I get it done?"

"Affirmative."

"And did I beat you while doing it?"

He shrugs.  "More or less."

"Then you should watch your mouth, Lieutenant."

His eyebrows raise, amused.  "Is that a threat I hear?"

"It's a promise to beat you again sliding back down the mountain, sir."

He imagines you throwing yourself down the snow in order to beat your own speed record, and he chuckles a little at the thought.  "I'd like to see you try, Angel."

You smile, gaze focused through the scope.  You've spotted three flags already, and you spot two more as another hour passes.  The team that's supposed to take your place is getting closer, Ghost thinks it'll be twenty minutes before they rendezvous, and you both make your way back for the day.  

"Ghost."

"Angel," he exhales another cloud of smoke and vapor when you speak, breaking the comfortable silence that's washed over you both.

You maneuver awkwardly to position your hand behind you, opening and closing your fist a few times.

"Hand me one of those," you say, your breathing puffing out into the freezing air.  "And my lighter."

He shakes his head with an amused smirk.   "You're supposed to be focusing."

"Can't focus if my hands are shaking."

"And what if this is a real scenario?  You're not gonna have cigarettes in a life-or-death situation, sergeant."

"Yeah, well, you do," you flex your hand again.  "So gimme."

He figures you're the only Sergeant on base he'd let order him around, but he doesn't let that thought take root in his mind. Instead, he shifts closer so that he's lying on his stomach next to you in the snow.  

"Keep still," he tells you, plucking a cigarette from his pack.  "You miss a flag Walker won't let me hear the end of it." 

You seem slightly surprised, but you don't say anything as he slots himself next to you.  He offers you the cigarette as you keep your gaze in the scope, and you use your free hand to slot it between your lips before he lights it.  You inhale slowly, and he watches your lips as you do so; watches the tips of your fingers through the clipped tips of the gloves he gave you and watches you exhale.  When he looks up, you're already looking at him.  He's close enough to see where snow clings to your lashes.

A beat passes where you both just stare at each other.  Simon finds he can't read your expression.  Then, you shake your head and clear your throat, which in turn snaps him out of his daze, before you take another drag and lock your focus in once more.

"Another flag," you say, your brow furrowed.  "At your twelve o' clock.  About four kilometers out."

Simon shifts, putting some space between you both as he clears his throat because fuck.  What the hell was that? 

"Copy that."

You're quiet for the rest of the exercise, only speaking whenever you spot another flag.  For some reason, Simon still finds himself fixed on the cigarette in your hand as you work.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1800 HOURS

Whenever both return to the base, there's a lot of whispering.  He doesn't notice, at first, too busy sorting equipment and putting it away.  You don't notice the lingering stares or the hushed voices either; or you're just pointedly ignoring them.  Sorting through your own gear nearby, you're quiet, and you're done and ready before he's even folded his snowsuit.  Nevertheless, Simon doesn't pay much mind to the name being whispered around until he can put the face to it.

Roger's Back.

Now, if there is one thing Simon isn't—it's humble.  After years of hard work he's managed to pack on an impressive amount of muscle, taking him from a lanky, malnourished teen to the legend he was now.  Not since Roba has he ever had an issue taking down anyone with the same experience, or sometimes more, than him.  He's made sure of that and intends to keep things that way.  

That is, until Simon happens to lift his head and peer down the hall towards someone he, for once, doesn't have to look down to meet the gaze of.

He's massive, is Simon's first thought.  The same height as him, he wagers the bloke might be the only lower-ranked soldier here who actually matches his strength enough to maybe have the upper hand in a fight.  

Simon's second thought is that bloody hell.

There's a long scratch across the man's cheek and the remains of a bruise around that of an eyepatch.  There's a still-healing gash on the side of his head, scar tissue fresh and thick on the temple of a shaved head, flesh stretched inward from staples freshly removed.

Ah.  Roger.  The sergeant who's skull you cracked against the edge of a bar.

The man approaches you from behind and Simon stops in his tracks just down the hall, eyes flitting over to watch the scene unfold in the corner of his eye.  

Keeping his face hidden had its cons, sure.  Maybe he did nearly suffocate himself every time he sweat his ass off in the desert.  Maybe underwater tasks were difficult and maybe he had to jump through all kinds of hoops to avoid getting his picture taken.  In hiding his own emotions, however, he's become quite good at reading the body language of others.

And you're uncomfortable.  Tense.  Ready to bite at a moment's notice.

You stand rigid still as you sense his presence, your back to the man as he approaches lazily to stand behind you.  Some words are exchanged.  You, biting retorts that just barely count as professional and him…standing too close for comfort.  

You hold your ground.  You don't punch first—just like Simon told you.  He watches the man's lips move, reads the threat that crosses his lips.  Still, you hold your ground as Simon's fists clench and he realizes what's happening—why you punched first.  Why you're struggling and why you put your training on halt for leave.

Next time, the man says.  Next time, you're not getting away so easily, bird.

Simon watches you think about it.  He watches your hands ball into fists, watches your eyes narrow and your nose scrunch with disgust.  But you don't move, no—you don't shrink away in fear and you don't immediately go for the kill.  You stand your ground just as Simon told you to.

You do so until the man looks away first, sauntering off.  Simon watches you let out one breath, then another, before you grab your pack in a shaking hand and sling it over your shoulder.  His eyes linger on you as you quickly leave the room, barely noticing how Roger approaches him to introduce himself.

It's not until the door shuts behind you that Simon grabs the young Sergeant by the front of his shirt and slams him against the wall.  Roger lets out a startled yelp.

"You lay another finger on her," he snarls.  "And I'll fuckin' cut it off, Sergeant, you copy?"

Roger's eyes are wide.  The breath knocked from his lungs, he's panting, and his mouth opens and shuts again in shock.

"I said do you copy?"

"Yes—yes, sir.  Copy and check."

Satisfied that his warning is taken seriously, Simon turns him loose with a hissed, "piss off."

Roger stumbles.  Disoriented, he continues down the hallway, and Simon is still seething as his boots carry him down a wrong turn to Walker's office.

He doesn't walk out until your safety is guaranteed.

[daydreamingmia]

Walker Scobell X Reader | Series | You Belong With Me🔱 Part 21

HAUNTED?!

It was pure darkness you couldn't see anything

"What just happened?" You say a little scared

"The lights went out" Walker replies

"I can see that seaweed brain. I mean why did it happen" You roll your eyes

Dior grabs her phone and turns on her flashlight

Everyone stands up and Walker puts his arm around you because he can tell you're scared

"Why did the power go out?" You ask Dior as she was looking at the news on her phone

"There was a power outage for 10 miles. It could be out for...8 HOURS!" Dior says

"8 hours?? Why??" You say as Walker hugs you tighter

"The thunderstorm outside. With the lightning and everything the power went out." Aryan says now looking at his phone too

"Are we safe??" You say scared

"Of course we are!" Walker reassures you

Suddenly your phone rang (which kind of freaked you out because it was so loud)

You all were getting frantic calls from your parents. When you hung up with your mom Taylor called

                                     Taylor 💖

                                                    OMG! ARE YOU OKAY?

                                                                ARE YOU SAFE?!

Haha don't worry! I'm fine!

It's a little scary because it's

dark but we are safe

                                                    Do you have flashlights? 

                                                    Candles? Food? Water?         

                                                     Blankets?

Umm I think we have like

two flashlights. I don't

know about candles.

We definitely have food. 

I think we have water.

And yes! Lots of blankets

                                    Okay. And you're with everyone? 

                                    You're not alone right? 

Yup! We were playing

monopoly when it happened

so we are all together

                           Alright. Well...keep me updated okay?

                      Don't leave me making up fake scenarios

                                 of why you're not texting me okay?

Haha of course I will Taylor!

                                                 Love you angel! Stay safe!

Love you too! And I will!

—————

"What are we gonna do?" You ask them as you hang up the phone

"I don't know but dont be scared you wimp" Walker shrugged

"Well how could I be with your reassuring words" you roll your eyes

"I'm hungry" You say as you walk over to the fridge

"DONT OPEN THAT!" everyone yells at you

"Why??" You pout

"Because you don't wanna let the cold air out or the food will go bad" Walker explains

"But! But if I don't eat it could be fatal!" You exclaim

"You're not gonna die" Walker rolls his eyes

"I meant fatal for you!" You yell at him

"Here eat this" Walker throws bag of chocolate that was behind the couch at you

"Ow!" You whine because it hit you in the head

"Eat that...and learn how to catch" Walker says sarcastically 

"How about you learn how to throw" You reply picking the bag up off the floor

"Where did this come from? The chocolate fairy?" You ask as your eyes light up 

"I know you always get hungry at like 2 am so i brought this with me to give to you then" He explained

"You brought this all the way from home?" You ask so happy he loves you that much

"Yeah" He blushes 

"I love you so much!" You kiss him

"I love you too! But i only got it because i didn't want you to make me get you Taco Bell" He lies

"Whatever" you roll your eyes

You sit down on the floor and open the bag

"How much longer do they think it will be until the storm clears up?" Walker asks trying to grab a chocolate from you

"Eat my chocolate and you won't live to see the storm end" you jokingly threaten

"Fine let me starve" Walker complains dramatically

"Whatever! But just one you big cry baby!" You hand him one

Charlie turned on the fire and everyone sat in front of it because it was the only light you had

Suddenly you scream

"What?!" Eveyone says in unison because you freaked them out

"My phone died!" You say horrified

"Are you serious?! That's why you screamed?" Walker asks annoyed

"Yes! What am I gonna do?!" You say still freaking out

"I don't know. Enjoy looking at your gorgeous boyfriend in real life" Walker jokes

"Who is that?" You say like you don't know

"Very funny. I guess someone doesn't wanna use my phone" Walker mocks holding his phone out of reach

"Ooo!! I'm sorry! Gimme" You say trying to take it but he moves it farther away from you

"And?" He says

"And you are my gorgeous boyfriend and I'm lucky to have you" You roll your eyes

"Hmmm doesn't seem very sincere. What do you think guys?" he jokes

"Shut up and give it to me!" You say as you snatch it from him

He just laughs and stands up. He comes back with a cozy blanket and lays it on top of you. You lay your head in his lap as he looks down at you sweetly. Moving the hair out of your face.

"I love you so much" He says lovingly

"I love you too seaweed brain" you reply as he kisses you

---

It was about 30 minutes later

"Noooooooo!" You whine

"What happened?" Walker asks you

"Your phone died" You pout

"Yeah mine is only 5% now" Dior says putting her phone down

"Yeah same" Charlie adds

"I win! Mine is 15%!" Aryan gloats 

You just jokingly glare at him

"Well we will have to do something else I guess" Walker shrugs

"Like what?" You ask still pouting

"I don't know...Oooo!! How about we take turns telling scary stories" Walker suggests

"Noooo! Last time you gave me nightmares!" You complain

"Oh come on! It's perfect! Scary stories by the fire in a power outage! Doesn't it sounds fun?" He says trying to convince you

"It sounds like a horror movie" you reply

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssseeeeeee" Walker whines in a really annoying voice

"Ugh fine! I hate you!" You roll your eyes

"Yay! Now who wants to start?" Walker asks very happily

"I don't wanna freak y/n out" Dior says sweetly

"Whatever I'll go first" Walker rolls his eyes

He clears his throat and starts

"In the heart of a remote town, an ominous hotel loomed over the landscape, its windows like empty eyes watching the unsuspecting passersby. Five teenagers, seeking adventure on a dare, checked into the hotel for a night of thrills. But as darkness descended and a storm brewed outside, they soon realized they were not alone.

A power outage plunged the hotel into darkness, casting the corridors into an abyss of shadows. Panic gripped the teens as they groped their way through the blackness, their hearts pounding with fear. But amidst the chaos, they failed to notice the presence lurking in the shadows—a sinister figure stalking them with malevolent intent.

As they huddled together, seeking solace in each other's company, they heard the telltale sound of footsteps echoing down the hall—a chilling reminder that they were being hunted. With each passing moment, the sense of dread intensified, and they knew that they were trapped in a deadly game of cat and mouse. They were hearing noises, echos, screams. Suddenly..." Walker stopped telling the story out of nowhere

"Then what?!" You say really scared

"And then they die" Walker says smugly

"What?!" You say worried

"Don't be scared I just made the story up" Walker reassures you

"But you made it to freak me out! 5 teenagers get murdered in a hotel room that had a power outage!! Are trying to give me a heart attack?!" You yell at Walker

"Yes" He replies plainly

"Guys let's stop we are gonna give y/n nightmares" Dior says

"Yeah I agree" Aryan and Charlie say

"Fine" Walker rolls his eyes

____________________

It was about 20 minutes later and you were all lying down in front of the fire. Everyone had blankets and pillows and was asleep. Suddenly you jolted up at the sound of a loud door creaking

"What was that?" You say alarmed

"What was what?" Walker mumbles into his pillow

"That sound. You didn't hear that?" You ask

"No" He sat up and looks at you sleepily

"Awwww angel I'm so sorry i scared you! That's probably why you're hearing things" He said hugging you sweetly

"I promise I'll protect you" He reassured you

You closed you eyes feeling so safe in his arms when you heard a loud crack

"Okay I heard that" Walker said a little freaked out

"Be quiet! We're trying to sleep!" Aryan whined

"That wasn't me" You say scared 

"What?" Aryan says waking up a little

"Those creepy sounds aren't us" you explain

"What are we hAuNteD?" Aryan mocks in a fake creepy voice

"No but we could get murdered" You reply

"I'll go look around" Walker whispers

"I'll go with you" Aryan says as he grabs one of the two flashlights we had

"Wait! Don't leave me alone!" You whine

"You're not alone! Dior and Charlie are literally a foot away from you" Walker whisper yells at you

"But they are asleep" You pout

"Fine come with us" Walker rolls his eyes

"But then Dior and Charlie will be left alone!" You point out

"Omg just wake them up!" Walker says leaving the room with Aryan

"Dior! Dior!" You shake her awake

"Y/n? What's wrong?" She mumbles

"There are creepy noises and Walker and Aryan are checking the house to see if there is a murderer" You explain

"What?! Alone?" She says jolting up

"Yeah" you reply

"Well let's go join them and make sure they are okay. Charlie wake up" She says standing up

We grab the other flashlight and start to look for Walker and Aryan

"Walker!" You whisper yell but there was no reply

"Walker! Aryan! Where are you?" You say again

No answer

"Where do you think they are?" You ask worried

"Don't worry! I'm sure they are somewhere" Dior reassures you

The three of you continued to tiptoe around. Suddenly you walked into something and screamed as you started yo throw punches

"Ow! Ow! Hey! It's me! Y/n! It's me!" Walker says holding your shoulders

"Oh Walker! I thought you disappeared! I was so scared!" You jump into his arms and kiss him

"Don't worry I'm not gonna die! I'll be annoying you for many years to come" Walker jokes

"You're right! You are annoying! Wanna go venture in that dark room alone." You laugh

"Did you find anything?" Charlie interrupts

"Nope. But there were some more weird sounds" Walker replies

The five of you went back by the fire but it was out.

"Uh did you turn off the fire?" Aryan asks

"No" Dior says a little freaked out

Walker hugs you tighter and you could tell he was thinking. Probably of how to reassure you that everyone was gonna be okay

Suddenly the front door slammed open as you tried to shriek but you were scared silent

Suddenly it slammed shut

"Walker" you say scared as everyone just watched this happen

"What's happening?" Dior asks

"I don't know...maybe it's the electricity" Walker tries to calm everyone down

"A POWER OUTAGE DOESN'T SLAME THE DOOR OPEN AND SHUT WALKER!" You whisper yell at him

"Okay okay. But there must be a logical explanation for this!" Charlie says

"Yeah we are all about to die" You whine

"What should we do?" Aryan asks

"Well nothing came through the door so I guess we should just try not to think about it" Walker says not sure what to do

"WHAT?! YOU WANNA JUST TRY NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT UNTIL WE ARE DEAD?!" You yell at Walker

"Well I don't know what to do!" Walker shrugs

---

Everyone was sitting around the fire just kind of...horrified. Trying no to think about it. 

You it get up and go to the bathroom. You were washing your hands and looking in the mirror when you noticed it wasn't you looking back at you. It was a creepy girl who looked seriously ill.

You shrieked and ran out of the bathroom

"Y/n!" Walker yells concerned and you run into his arms

"Walker there was- and she- and I-" You stuttered

"Hey you're okay! What happened?" He asks worried

"I looked in the mirror and someone else was looking back!" You say trembling

"What?!" Dior yells

"We. Are. Gonna. Die" Aryan states

"We aren't gonna die" Charlie reassures everyone

"It's gonna be okay" Walker hugs you tightly

"I'm calling the police" Dior says pulling her phone from her pocket

"Uhhhh...guys?" Dior said nervously

"What?!" You say REALLY scared now

"I don't have service. I can't make any phone calls" she said looking worried

Suddenly you heard a man humming

You screamed and everyone ran to the middle of the room together

You looked at Walker and he actually looked scared now

"Im gonna go check this place again" Walker says

"No! You can't go alone!" Everyone says in unison and follows him

You were walking down the hallway of the suites that joins the rooms

The creaking of everyone's footsteps made it even scarier. The thunderstorm was so loud! The rain was pounding against the roof and the lightning was deafening.

You have walked through the living room and 2 out of the 3 bedrooms. 

As everyone walked in the last one suddenly the room was lit up by the lightning outside. But only for a moment. A sudden chill came through the room. It was cold the whole time but this was like negative 50 degrees kind of cold. Aryan turned around worridly and started looking at everyone with horror in his eyes

"Where is Charlie?!" Aryan asks worried

A/n: Hiiiiiii!!!! Sorry to leave you at that lol. Hopefully I didn't freak you out too much😭😭😭

I hope you liked this chapter!! If you did please vote and comment!! Thank all sooooooo much for reading!! I love you soooooo much!!!!!!!!💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Tags🏷️

@mireyaaaaaa @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @yeeteddemigod @walker-scobell-obsessed @callsignwidow @froggyflower264 @owlscanread25

[whxre-bxby]

The recoms x reader with competitions sounds hilarious

I can totally imagine them having weird ass competitions Lol

Can't wait for that one

Yeah, this has been in my inbox for ages so glad to finally post it

"Pecking Order"

f. Y/N Recom x Recom Quaritch /Lyle /Prager /Mansk /Brown /Lopez /Ja /Walker /Zdinarsk

Masterlist

Summary: Being a recom soldier is difficult. Especially when dealing with the new instincts and needs the body requires. To keep his team sane, Quaritch comes up with a solution in which Y/N is shared with everyone.

Warnings: indication of smut, little bit of fluff, depressing ending, outrageously minimal wordcount (my apologies)

Word Count: 1590

(I'm sorry about how short this is, but I'm really struggling to write at the moment because I have so much going on)

(Once again I am pretending that Warren and Zhang don’t exist, I am sorry to those who like them but I really don’t.)

Being on Pandora is weird. It’s a whole new planet. But what’s even weirder is being on a foreign planet in a foreign body. Another human’s body wouldn’t have been so bad, but no, you’re blue now. You and your squad along with your Colonel have all permanently become Avatars. It takes a lot of time to get used to the changes. It seems like you discover something new about yourselves every day. Luckily it’s been almost two months since you woke up from criyo. 

It seems as though the foreign environment and new feelings have almost strengthened the connection of the team. You all got along when you had to before but now you feel like they are all close friends to you. 

One evening at dinner, Lyle had brought up how most soldiers used to have fuck-buddies to get through life on Pandora. Most of the team did back then too. Now, it seemed as though no one had even thought about it. You and the others didn’t exactly know how everything worked so the subject was ignored and brushed off. But it was definitely not forgotten.

It had quite literally been years since any one of you had experienced any form of sexual pleasure. That was suppressed in the beginning but the Avatar’s body language was more visible than a human's and it was more difficult to control and suppress emotions. 

At one point in time, all recoms including you were constantly tense and distracted. No one was able to fully focus during training anymore and Quaritch noticed this. He himself had the same problem and he knew he couldn’t send his squad out into the forest like this. You would die on the first day out. The Colonel would rather solve the problem in any way possible than explain what is happening to the General. The recoms are meant to be reliable and professional. What is happening to all of you is getting in the way of both those things. 

The Colonel forced everyone to attend his ‘emergency meeting’ even though you all had the rest of the day off. The atmosphere was thick and you found it hard to breathe even though the room was ventilated. 

Quaritch had made you all sit down to listen to him but your attention was barely on his words. Instead, you were subconsciously studying Mansk. He was calmly fiddling with his fingers but you noticed how strained his arms were and how far back he had his ears pinned. Nobody was relaxed. 

You also realised earlier today that you basically lost control of your tail. It’s just doing its own thing at this point and there is nothing you can do about it. 

The Colonel started explaining his recent observations of our behaviour and you immediately thought you were all being scolded. But you were wrong. 

“The only option I see te’ help us with our probem,” Quaritch says, inhaling deeply as if he were not sure how we would react. “Is to fuck it out.” 

Lyle snorts, thinking his superior is joking but Quaritch is dead serious. 

“Suggest otherwise, Corporal Wainfleet.” The Colonel says, sternly glaring at Lyle. I stare at both of them with wide eyes. No way is he suggesting this. 

There was some kind of argumentative discussion between the two but you have tuned out, blankly staring past Quaritch and at the wall behind him. This room had no windows, so no one could see or come in here because it was a recom only area. 

“Y/N.” Quaritch’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. You glance up at him while Mansk shifts his gaze to you. 

“You’re with me.” he orders, watching your surprised yet innocent face process the information. 

“No fuckin’ way.” Mansk interrupts. You stare at him now, completely surprised by his words. Mansk never objects or argues with people. He’s the best soldier when it comes to following orders. This is out of character for him. 

Quaritch doesn’t seem pleased by his words but once again to your surprise, he doesn’t put Mansk in his place. Since this isn’t a professional environment anymore, it seems as though the ranks between the soldiers don’t play such a big role. 

A few other recoms back Mansk up, not liking that the Colonel wants you to himself which still baffles you. 

But it turns out, they all seemed to have taken a liking to you. Most soldiers were ignorant and self-centred. You weren’t. You seemed almost naturally submissive to the others, especially as an Avatar. Something about you, perhaps your scent of strong pheromones, drew them to you.

So that evening, while you were being eyed hungrily by every single one of your teammates, they made a fair plan. In their free time, they would hold weekly competitions to figure out the order of who gets the most time with you. You were included and nothing was forced on you.

Since life in the RDA was really dull and colourless, these planned activities and competitions amused everyone. 

To keep it fair, it wouldn’t always be the same task to win, it would be changed so that everyone gets a chance. Otherwise, it would always be the same people with you. 

The first and most obvious challenge was a physical strength competition. This one lasted a long time and it went all the way from who could hold themselves in a plank position the longest to wrestling in the gym. In the third week, things took a drastic turn when Lyle decided to time himself to see how fast he could make you cum. Any technique was allowed and on the same day, everyone had their turn which had you not only fucked out but completely dumb and tired for the rest of the day. 

Z-Dog won that one and right behind her was Walker. Lopez was next and all three of them took great pride in it. It seems as though oral sex was the way to go.

Quaritch was always near the top and most often the first on the leaderboard in the physical challenges. Which meant you spent a lot of time in his room, which you honestly didn’t mind. While he was a brutal and cold-hearted man on the outside, he took care of you behind closed doors. Miles picked you up and walked you to his room when it suited the two of you. There, he took his time with you. Nothing was ever rushed because he wanted you to enjoy it as much as he did. 

Let’s just say, you always slept well after having sex with him and he took care of you in his bed, letting you sleep in it. You always left his room feeling satisfied in the morning. Lyle, Mansk and Prager were also usually quite at the top so when you and Quaritch would finish, they would get a day of the week each to spend with you. Sometimes, you had a few of them at once. 

Normally, you would feel bad about yourself for sleeping around so much but they made you feel like you are all that matters to them, so you rarely worried about that. You didn’t feel used, you felt loved. Something you had been deprived of since you left Earth years ago. 

Once everyone had a turn and the feral instincts calmed down, the competitions continued but they became more funny than serious. At this point, you were all just doing it for shits and giggles because there really wasn’t anything else to do. Except for finding Sully but that mission wasn’t ready yet. 

So the subjects of the competitions started to change along with everyone’s behaviour. The lust has been brought under control so you weren’t as tired anymore and only occasionally had sex with the recoms that needed it. 

A cooking competition was held which turned into a completely messy disaster. Mansk won it by far but at what cost? The oven had exploded because Ja refused to take the food out, claiming it wasn’t done yet. Lopez put metal in the microwave which really damaged the machine and you can’t quite remember how it happened but Z-Dog and Walker had accidentally set a curtain on fire. Instead of trying to put out the flames, they got angry because “What’s a fuckin’ curtain doin’ in the kitchen anyway?!”.

Another one was who could breathe oxygen for the longest because we were now adapted to Pandora’s air. Prager won. He said he used to dive regularly back on Earth so he was able to hold his breath for a long time. 

Brown and Walker almost lost consciousness. 

It kept going on and on like this because it was all the fun you had. Even when the mission started, the challenges were who could tame their Ikran the fastest, who could guess the Na’vi words correctly and who could properly land a fall from the Ikran. You started taking part in the competitions just for your own fun. It really had brought everyone together but eventually, all good things must come to an end. 

When you started encountering Sully, you began losing soldiers and once some teammates were gone, no one was feeling good enough to even suggest anything fun. From that point of, you all just wanted to finish your mission and end this.

Enjoy the bunnies instead of the abrupt ending :)

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @jatwow @numarusworld @number1gal @ikranwings

[iamthecatwhotypes]

the letter (bts)

It started with an unsigned letter...

💘Pairing: Fem!OC x Yongbok/Secret Admirer | Sincerely AU 📚Genre: Sincerely... AU (m.list) | Romantic Angst 🔞Rating: 18+ ⌨Word Count: 4.4k ✋🏽Warnings: Unhealthy relationship (edging on neglect; quick to anger) 🗣Summary: Jinju's birthday started out rough... but a curious letter from a secret admirer gives her new hope. The problem is, which of her friends has a crush on her? 💌A/N: Hi! I'm new, but have been lurking for a while. I've had this idea in my head for a while and wanted to give this a try. If you have any constructive criticism or anything you want to say about this, please feel free to reach out. I'd love to hear from you! 😁If you want to read on AO3, you can! 🥰 I know a lot of people prefer to read a whole story when it's done. If you want me to tag you when this series is finished, let me know and I'll tag you when the finale drops.

There was something in the air that Friday night.

It felt… maybe a bit romantic, really. The sky had faded to a soft blue with fluffy clouds bathed in pastel pinks and oranges while the horizon was aglow in dazzling gold. Chasing after the cotton candy clouds from the east was a storm the color of spilled ink. They sprinted along the sky, gobbling up the half moon that hung low and bright.

Rainy nights were my favorite. I was convinced they washed away all the negativity of the day or week and left me with a clean slate.

Maybe it’ll sound a little crazy or overdramatic, but it felt like there was something fated in the crisp breeze that whipped through my hair. It felt like I was on the precipice of something exciting and new starting.

I loved the way it seemed like everyone around me was so happy while being bathed in the soft glow of the street lights that were flipping on one street at a time.

I loved nights like this. They made me think of home when I was young. I'd sit with my mom and brother and watch the lightning until either the storm ended, or I fell asleep. 

In my moment of nostalgia, I looked around for my boyfriend, Yongbok, hoping to wrap my hands around his arm and walk tucked up against him, but saw him already so far ahead of me that he was almost to the restaurant we were going to meet our friends at. 

I paused for a moment, my shoulders slumping against the sudden brunt of disappointment. My jaw went slack as my heart slid down my ribs into my gut and dissolved in its bath of acid.

Why was he so far ahead? He almost always walked with me. I mean, yeah, he was a much faster walker than I was, but he had a bit of height on me and naturally had a longer stride.

I blamed my outfit. I didn’t often wear skirts or heeled sandals. Even though the long champagne colored skirt I wore had a slit up to the middle of my leg, I felt awkward walking in it. It felt almost alien to dress this feminine. The bag I had brought was bulkier than I was used to as well.

I guess I felt a bit like a puppy that had yet to grow into its paws.

Despite all of that, he should have been walking beside me like a proper boyfriend would.

Although… we have been going through sort of a rough patch, I guess. We’d made plans to go out tonight to celebrate my birthday months ago. Maybe he felt like if he didn’t show up tonight, then all our friends would know we were having problems and he didn’t want them to notice. 

I hoped that meant he still wanted to try and work things out with me.

I heaved a sigh and hurried after him, nearly breaking into a sprint in order to meet him at the door. He held it open with his foot and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

A small part of me was worried he'd started to be embarrassed by me. I had gained a bit of weight since I stopped doing my normal dance classes. I didn't think it had been a lot, but I had caught him looking at my tummy a couple of times.

Maybe he was just excited for everything that we had planned to do tonight. 

I felt myself get excited at the idea he'd gotten me something nice.

Maybe he was going to finally propose and was just nervous.

Why would he be nervous though? It wasn't like I would say no!

I smiled up at him sheepishly when I lowered my head and slipped past him and into the restaurant.

I loved this restaurant. The walls were black and the lights that hung overhead were low. It smelled of meat and fish and spices.

It reminded me of how my family's house had smelled when I was a child and my grandmother was cooking.

I looked around, plastering a smile on my face and searching for my friends.

I spotted Namjoon’s freshly dyed purple hair in a far corner and grabbed Yongbok's wrist, pulling him along with me as I navigated towards the group, my smile full and authentic now. 

Yongbok pulled his hand from mine and skirted past me, almost bumping into a waitress with a tray full of sushi, gimbap, and a delightful smelling udon. 

She gasped and steadied the tray with her free hand, her mouth agape as I waved her on, apologizing quietly for his rudeness.

Why was he acting like this? He was being so rude and embarrassing!

I scowled at him and walked over to the table, forcing the smile to grace my face again as almost everyone looked over at me.

I could almost feel the judgement in their eyes as Jimin pulled a chair out for me and pushed it in as I sat while everyone at the table wished me a happy birthday. I smiled shyly at them and bowed my head several times in gratitude while holding my hands together in thanks.

Even though it should have been Yongbok seating me, I thanked Jimin anyway. 

He was always a gentleman.

I looked at Yongbok and sighed again when I saw him already deep in conversation with Jungkook who had just started getting a full sleeve of tattoos and, of course, Yongbok was curious about it. He’d wanted to get tattoos for a while now and Jungkook had been the only one in our friend group brave enough to start.

The tattoos I could see on his knuckles were hard to read in the quick moment I looked at, but they looked crisp enough to look decent.

“Look at you!” My best friend, Chaeyoung leaned close to whisper into my ear as she took my bag and admired it for a moment before hanging it from a hook under the table I didn’t know existed. “I bet Yongbok is just itching to get his hands on you tonight!”

She hid her giggle with her long, slender hand. I did my best to laugh along with her to avoid suspicion. It’d been such a long time since Yongbok had touched me… since he’d hugged me… I thought I would probably erupt with joy as soon as he even so much as held my hand.

“Well, you look stunning.” Chaeyoung continued sincerely before letting her eyes gaze at the candles flickering in the center of the table. She went far away for a moment. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I am a little jealous you have a boyfriend on your birthday. Mine was so lonely.”

I looked her over and scoffed. She was always so elegant with her high cheekbones, small forehead, and full hips that swung like a pendulum when she walked. She was everything I considered to be perfect. I couldn’t understand why she was still single. “You’ll find the right guy soon!”

“I hope so.” Her shoulders slumped enough for her collarbone to peek out from under the sleeveless black cocktail dress she wore.

I nudged her with my arm and leaned close, glancing around the table quickly to see who was watching us. “Have you told… you know… how you feel?”

Her eyes flicked up to the man who sat quietly on the other side of the table, between Jungkook and Namjoon, staring at a glass of water that was sitting in a pool of its own condensation. She shook her head and pulled her waist length black hair behind her ear. “No. If he likes me, he needs to approach me.”

“What if he’s shy?”

She gave a nonchalant shrug and took a sip of her red wine, the glint of the candles catching her long, almond nails painted in a nude shade. She thought carefully for a moment and met my eyes. “I think he likes someone. He’s been acting differently recently.”

I nudged her again as a pair of waitresses came around, setting steaming bowls of clear soup in front of us and taking our entree orders. “It could be you.”

She offered me a smile. “I hope so.”

We giggled together before beginning to eat our soups.

I looked around the table at everyone laughing together and sat back with a smile. 

I hadn't known anyone when I moved to Seoul as a teenager. It was only once I had met Yongbok that anyone at this table came into my life.

My life had become so rich and full with everything everyone brought to share with me.

I couldn't imagine my life without them.

“So… Jinju….” Jimin rubbed his hands on his trousers and looked over at me with a smile. I met his gaze and raised a brow, waiting for him to continue, watching as he ran a hand through his thick blond hair and cleared his throat. He shifted his weight and turned towards me. “What… um… what are we doing afterwards? I think it's been kept a surprise from us when, really, we should have been the ones to surprise you.”

I laughed as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, his eyes roving my face. 

His sudden attention on me was a little confusing for me. Jimin had always been kind, but I had written it off as him being polite to his friend's girlfriend. 

I couldn't lie though, it was nice to have a man talk to me so kindly.

Yongbok looked up at us too. His large eyes narrowed suspiciously while going from Jimin to me and back again.

That was odd. 

Was he jealous or had he just forgotten our plans? I couldn't be sure. 

I came back to myself and put on my friendliest smile while laying my hands on the wood table.

“But I love surprising you all! I hope you don't mind.”

I dipped my head shyly. I hoped I hadn't inadvertently caused offense. I really didn't think anyone would mind. I had never been a fan of birthdays and really just wanted the attention to be off of me.

Jimin chuckled and ran a hand down the black blazer he wore, waving the other to dispel my worry. He softened his hand and offered a gentle smile. “Of course not. 

“I thought that since we were so close to Lotte World, that we could go there after we eat and do a scavenger hunt. I have a little gift for the winner.” I had gifts hidden away in my purse for everyone though, but I wasn’t going to admit that now. 

“It’s raining now though, my dear.” Yongbok interjected, his deep voice tinged with a gravelly undertone, hinting that I was being ridiculous. He used the endearment to try and soften his tone.

“I…,” I didn’t have much time to respond before Taehyung piped up, his eyes still on his glass.

“I drove.” He pushed his white linen napkin along the edge of the glass before looking up at me first then quickly around the table and back to his glass again. He swallowed hard and shrugged a shoulder as the weight of the collective stare went to him. “I can’t fit everyone, but….”

He let his words fall away, thankfully saved by the waitresses and a pair of runners who came up to our table and laid our meals out before us.

I couldn’t help but notice Yongbok glower at him for a moment before whipping open his napkin and laying it over his lap.

What was wrong with him?

I glanced at Chaeyoung to see if maybe I was overreacting, but she was watching me worriedly as she plucked up a piece of beef.

I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I knew it was hollow. I couldn’t lie to her very well.

We fell into eating a bit quieter than before.

I appreciated Taehyung stepping up to help keep my birthday perfect. At some point in time, without me even realizing, he and Jimin had become my friends too… genuinely.

I didn’t know what I had done to earn that, but I was very grateful. 

The world felt a little smaller and less scary with them in it.

Eventually, we finished our meals and looked outside to see the rain had become so heavy that the street was practically empty save for a few stragglers who were drenched and huddled into their jackets and wincing against the elements.

Jungkook was the first to speak, always quick and eager to help in any way he could. “I think we should take Jinju to the zoo tomorrow. Or… maybe the aquarium.”

Namjoon nodded, pointing at him as he clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. “Namdaemun would be cool too.”

“Oh… the Seosomun Museum is close to there.” Jimin chirped, glancing at me as he crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. “We could make a day of it if we wanted to.”

“Oh!” Chaeyoung cried out and leaned forward, her brow pinched and her eyes narrowed. “We could go to Sky Pizza!” She turned to me and put her hand on my arm. “That’s Bong Joon-Ho’s restaurant in Parasite!”

“We’re taking a tour of Seoul tomorrow.” Yoongi suddenly spoke with a breathy, deep laugh. “We may as well go to the National Park Mountain Museum.”

“Where is that?” Chaeyoung pulled her phone from her purse and tapped the name into her map app then looked up with wide eyes. “Bro! That’s so far away!”

Namjoon smiled until his eyes were half moons and shook Yoongi’s hand. “I see you’re getting out more.”

“That’s almost in Gyeonggi! That’s like an hour away!”

I was about to say that I loved getting out of the city, but Yoongi spoke again, waving his hand, his pinky slightly curved.

“Jinju, what would you like to do tomorrow?”

Everyone’s eyes shifted over to me and it was suddenly hard to breathe. I blinked rapidly and felt my mouth grow dry as my jaw went slack.

I couldn’t choose the museum Yoongi had suggested even though it sounded wonderful. Chaeyoung would be too miserable travelling that far. I made a note to go there later on my own. I sat up straight with a bright smile, watching subconsciously as almost everyone mirrored my movement. “I think we should go to the aquarium, Seosomun Museum, and Sky Pizza. If that’s okay?”

I looked over at Chaeyoung as she wrapped her arms around mine with a giggle. “That’s gonna be so fun!”

“Let’s see if it’s still raining tomorrow.” Yongbok’s voice was drowned out by Taehyung and Jimin offering to drive all of us, which made him roll his eyes.

Part of me felt bad for him to be ignored. I knew he hated it, but maybe the others were ignoring him since he was in such a foul mood.

I tried to compensate for him by being the brighter one.

“I’m really excited. It’ll be nice to do some new things.” I smiled at no one in particular.

My eyes flicked to Yongbok as he clinked his shot glass together with Jungkook’s and threw his drink back. I hadn’t even realized the grapefruit soju on the table. Yongbok locked eyes with me and pointed at me with a grin on his full lips then poured himself another shot. He raised it towards me, waiting for a moment for our bewildered friends to quickly follow suit when they realized there was going to be an impromptu toast. 

“Here’s to our beautiful Jinju on her birthday.” Yongbok smiled and gave a chuckle, the mood brightening for a moment as our friends broke into a smile and parroted him before he continued, interrupting a few of them. “May we all be so accommodating.”

I thought I heard a hint of sourness to his tone that the others seemed to gloss over. 

I smiled and bowed my head in thanks to my friends before a crack of thunder shook the building and made the lights flicker. We jumped and looked to see if the building had been hit.

“I think that's our signal to go.” Namjoon finished off his beer and stood with the rest of the table following suit quickly. We followed him to the counter to pay.

“Thank you all for such a lovely evening.” I bowed to the group at the large double doors that were painted black with an ornate design painted gold in the center of both of them. “It was good to see you all again and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow!”

I gladly accepted a hug from Chaeyoung, Jimin and Taehyung then shook hands with Namjoon and Jimin. Yoongi and Jungkook both gave me a small bow before looking out the windows as a flash of lightning illuminated the sky for a moment.

“I'll drive you home, Namjoon.” Taehyung patted the man on his shoulder as Jungkook fished his keys from the pocket of his black trousers and Yoongi pulled his black blazer over his tight black turtleneck.

“You two walked, right?” Jimin turned to us, raising his brow as Yongbok nodded, a sense of disappointment seeming to wash over him as his shoulders drooped a little. “I'll drive you home.”

I stepped up to him with a smile and held my hands demurely before me. “Thank you for your help, Jimin. Yongbok and I appreciate it very much.”

The tips of his ears grew red as he tipped his head away with a smile and ran his hand through his hair again as Yoongi swung the door open for us, his hand up to shield himself from the rain.

“Thank you!” I put my hand on his shoulder as I brushed past him, my skirt quickly becoming plastered to my thighs as the rain threatened to drench me entirely. He nodded and gave the fastest smile I had ever seen before looking away. 

Yongbok put his hand on my waist, pulling me close and guiding me quickly to Jimin’s car. He pulled away and sat in the front, leaving me to start to slip in the back before remembering I didn't have my purse.

“I forgot my bag!” I stood despite Yongbok's grunt of disgust and shielded my eyes with my hand as a waitress came out with my bag. I took it from her with a bow. “Thank you!”

“Jinju! Get in the car!” Yongbok yelled through the window at me as I opened the door and dropped inside, thankful for the quickly heated interior.

“Sorry.”

“It’s…”

“Next time be more mindful.” Yongbok barked over Jimin, glowering at me from his spot as I sank into the back of my seat with wide eyes. “You're ruining the interior.”

My jaw went slack.

I was so confused.

He’d never berated me in front of other people before, let alone his closest friends. 

I don’t think he’s even ever raised his voice to me before. Why was he being so cruel? And on my birthday too. 

It made my heart drop as I lowered my head while Jimin stared at him, his playful, sweet eyes now dark and hard.

He moved his jaw from side to side before taking a deep breath and holding his hand up, palm down, trying to diffuse the situation. “Let’s not let a little rain ruin tonight. This car’s been through much worse than this.” He laughed, bringing me, at least, a little lightness and I relaxed. “I was getting the car washed one time and forgot to roll my window up until I was being sprayed in my ear.”

“Bro… you did what?” Yongbok stared in confusion at Jimin as he covered his face with his hands and laughed. 

Perhaps it was mean of me, but it was nice to see him be humbled after being rude to me.

“Yeah, I drove home with all the windows down to try and dry it out.” Jimin sighed and looked back at me when I covered my mouth as I giggled. “But anyway, don’t even worry about it. You’re fine, I’m not mad.”

I smiled and looked up at him through my lashes. “Thank you, Jimin.”

Jimin tried to get a conversation going, but with Yongbok’s mood, the short trip to our apartment felt like an eternity.

Jimin pulled up to the curb and put the car into park, twisting in his seat and reaching back to smile at me. “Happy birthday, Jinju. I’m sorry it rained, but hopefully tomorrow will be better.”

“I'm sure it will be. Thank you again for coming out with us and driving us home.”

Yongbok was out of the car and opening my door suddenly, his voice . “Remember your purse this time.”

I tried to smile but my lips refused to pretend.

I grabbed my purse and stepped out of the car, waving to Jimin before hurrying to catch up with Yongbok who was practically at the door of our building already. 

“What's wrong with you?” I glared up at him, watching as he threw his hands up and walked away. He went through the door to the stairs and let it slam behind him. 

I stood staring after him.

What happened? What had I done?

All I wanted to do was cry. 

I felt my chin tremble and remembered that my clothes were still wet. Even if my heart was breaking, I had to go take care of myself.

I went to the elevator and trudged my way to our door and tapped in the code. I slipped inside and stepped out of my shoes, holding my purse to my chest.

It only took a moment for me to hear him playing a video game loud enough that I was sure our neighbors would hear the woman screaming alongside the gunfire.

I felt so completely defeated. This wasn’t how I planned on my birthday going.

I had been so hopeful that today we would play nice and maybe it would start feeling like we were a couple again.

I wiped my eyes and went to the closet, dropping my bag into its place in the corner of my side. I went into the bathroom and began to draw a hot bath with a healthy scoop of lavender epsom salt.

I sank into the hot water carefully and sighed as I laid my head against the pillow, completely encased in the water.

I stared up at the ceiling and sighed. 

What was I supposed to do? Was there anything I could do to save the relationship?

It was just a rough patch. All couples go through rough patches. I did love him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I didn’t want to just throw it away without trying.

The next morning as we were rushing to get out the door to meet with Jimin and the others he had picked up, I remembered at the last moment that I had forgotten my wallet inside my purse. When I grabbed it and yanked it free from my bag, a sloppily folded piece of paper fell to my feet.

What was this?

I crouched down and picked it up, tipping my head as I unfolded it, thinking it was a receipt.

Hello darling,

The words met me in a neat hand.

I drew a deep breath and glanced over my shoulder. It wasn’t Yongbok’s handwriting. Even when he did his best handwriting, this was remarkably different.

I continued to read it, grateful for the brevity of it.

I know I shouldn’t be writing this to you, but I feel that if I don’t do something to give me freedom from you, I’ll go mad. So, here’s the truth: I’ve liked you for a long time and wish you all the happiness and love in your life. You deserve the best life and to be treated like a queen. You inspire me to be a better man and I thank you for that. Although I don’t think you’ll ever know who I am, I am grateful to have you in my life.

My mind raced and my heart thundered.

Someone had… what? A crush? On me?

Who could this be? Why did they choose now to tell me? When had they put this in my bag? Had it been there for long and I just hadn’t noticed it?

No. It had to have been from last night since it was on top of my wallet.

I blinked several times as Yongbok called for me.

Someone from last night had a crush on me. One of my friends felt something for me.

Had they sensed things hadn’t been well between Yongbok and I and was aligning himself up to be my next beau?

Who was it?

I was going to end it there and wish you all the best, but my soul won’t let me sleep without saying the deepest secret I have. I know you’re taken and I am sorry to drop this in your lap now, but please forgive a poor, heartsick man because I do wish you were mine. Will I give this to you? I know I shouldn’t, but the thought that maybe, just maybe, one day it could happen, is to strong to resist. We’ll see what happens, I guess. But, for now, I am happy to have you as a friend. Take care. Eat well. Sleep well. Study well. You are loved.

It ended there without any mark of the sender.

I swallowed hard and felt my eyes prick with warm tears. I trembled as I brushed them away and stuffed the letter into my everyday bag.

I should have thrown it away. I should have been loyal to Yongbok, especially if I wanted to keep our relationship alive.

Why did I keep it?

I brushed past Yongbok, staring at his thin, well-shaped jawline and cool eyes and went out to Jimin’s car that was idling by the curb.

I looked up at the fluffy white clouds in the brilliant blue sky. 

Someone who loved me was looking at those same clouds.

What a strange and wonderful thought.

[mothguillotine]

VII.

Daryl had left before you had gotten up the next morning. Not wanting to ask to borrow a horse before leaving. The past two nights had been haunting him at all hours. His desire to spend as much time with you as possible was misguided in his eyes. All of his time should be spent trying to find Sophia, not wanting you despite the fact that you would never want him. He had realized that last night when he had thought about you too much.

He hadn’t really meant to start thinking in that direction, but once one thought was there, he couldn't stop them. He had thought about kissing you, but more than that, he had thought about how he wanted you. In his mind he had blamed that stupid impractical dress, he had only seen you wearing it for a short time but his mind was plagued by thoughts of you in the dress as well as thoughts of you outside of it.

When he woke up the next morning, it was obvious he had continued to think about you while he slept. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. The guilt that he felt surrounding the entire situation was eating him up alive. What he didn't know was that you felt the same way, unable to stop thinking about him. The rational part of your brain was convinced that he would never see you that way. You were just some random woman that he had gotten stuck with after the world ended.

On the other hand you had taken note of everything he had done around you. The way he pushed most of the group away and had let you sit with him at night by his fire. Yesterday when he had stared at you on top of the RV before rushing off. But none of this really counted towards anything. He had not directly made anything clear but you assume that he would never do anything else unless you initiated it.

As the day went on you became more and more concerned about Daryl. You had initially gone to Rick and asked him. To which he told you he was off by himself looking for Sophia. A few hours later after hearing nothing from Daryl you decided to go out and look for him. As you gather your supplies to set off for him you can feel yourself being watched. When you turn around you make eye contact with Jesse, who looks disappointed.

“I have to find him.” you tell him.

“You are not the only person who matters in this situation.” he says to you.

“It's not about me. It's about him. He’s been searching for Sophia for days and not hearing from him for this long isn’t like him.” you tell him.

“Y/N don’t try to lie about this. It's obvious how you feel about him.” he says, which takes you aback.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” you tell him faking ignorance about the situation, but you know he can see past it. You turn back and continue packing your supplies.

“You are the only person she has left.”

You know who he is talking about right away, Adi. It’s true, you know it. It makes you stop for a second and you know he is right.

“You're right.” you tell him.

“I usually am.” he tells you.

“You most definitely are not.” you tell him laughing slightly before the moment is ruined by a single gunshot from somewhere on the farm.

You both take off towards the noise, first taking note that both of the girls are safe from danger still under the tree they were playing at. When you finally reach the source of the noise you see Daryl looking nearly dead which springs you into action rushing over to the wounded man you instruct Rick to keep pressure on his wounds and get him to Hershel as fast as they can.

You see Andrea holding a gun looking guilty. You put it together with not much thought. Andrea had just shot Daryl when he was returning from his search.

“Andrea what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you yell at her, “Are you that fucking stupid that you shoot someone comeing back to camp after you know someone is out there? Before getting the confirmation that it is a walker you just decide to shoot? It was one goddamn person you stupid motherfucker.”

“It’s not my fault he was disgusting looking and limping.” she says defending herself.

You curl your fist and punch her. The initial shock of being punched knocks her to the ground. Honestly it probably hurt you way more than it hurt her but it got your point across. You run up to the farm hour prepared to help in any way possible.

The next few hours are a blur of blood and bandages. You and Hershel are able to slowly work on him, patching up all his wounds and checking him over for any more permanent damage. Hershel leaves after finishing up, you decide to take wet rags and clean the dirt off his skin. Allowing yourself to view any more minor damage that he had sustained.

You find a large bruise on the side of his stomach. While cleaning him up you notice the scars that reside on his back. You do your best to ignore it even though it hurts your chest. After finishing up cleaning him you sit back in the chair that is next to his bed. You watch his chest slowly rise and fall, almost scared to look away as if it would stop. So you remained watching his chest until you dozed off.

When Daryl woke up he had a headache. He assumed it was from getting shot on the side of his head. The next thing he noticed was you. Sleeping next to the bed in a chair, your head leaning into your palm. You had blood staining your hands, his blood, he realizes. You had at the least cared for him while he was unconscious. He then noticed his lack of shirt. He pulled the covers up covering his chest.

When he hears a few knocks from the door he sees Carol. She is carrying two plates of food, one for him and one for you. They talk for a minute about his discovery in the woods.

“You know she stayed here helping Hershel the entire time.” Carol told him, “She cleaned you.”

Daryl hadn't noticed that yet. He didn’t have much dirt or blood left on him. Oh god, he thought, this is just getting worse. You caring for him was not helping him bury all the emotions he held for you. The whole point of leaving so early this morning was to put space between the two of you and here you were taking care of him when he did some stupid shit.

Rick came in next, he spoke with him about where he had found Sophia’s doll. He couldn’t help but notice Rick's questioning eyes going between the two of you. He didn’t say anything about it, but he didn’t have to. Daryl could see what he was thinking in his head.

Soon after Rick left you woke up from your sleep. You saw Daryl awake and felt relief that he was okay. He was looking at you when you opened your eyes. He passed you the plate that was sitting on the nightstand next to the bed.

“Thank you.” you told him.

“You stayed?” he asked you.

You knew what he meant. He was surprised when he had woken up, you assumed, when he saw you sitting here.

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?” you asked him.

“You shouldn’ care about no redneck like me.” he says.

“Daryl, of course I care about you. I’ve cared about you since the CDC.” you tell him, remembering how you had both agreed that Jenner was suspicious.

“I care about you too.” he says quietly, nearly imperceptible.

“Then it’s agreed, we both care about each other.” you tell him.

“Thanks for this.” he says, gesturing to his wounds.

“Of course, puts all my college debt to use.” you say to him.

“I thought you were a teacher?” he says.

“I was an assistant at a preschool over summer, after school was done.” you tell him. “I also never really wanted to be a nurse. It was what my parents wanted for me but I never was too fond of the idea. What about you, what did you do?”

Honestly you had a few guesses for how Daryl Dixon made money, your top one being a mechanic. You had seen him working on his brother's bike time and time again, each time stopping to watch him. Once you had been caught by Maggie who had laughed at you for staring. But you couldn't help yourself, when he worked on the bike his arms were just gorgeous. Even after Maggie had caught you a few days ago you still couldn't break your stare any faster.

“Nuthin,” he says to you. With how he reacts you turn away from that subject in favor of discussing anything else.

“Okay, how about your favorite color?” you ask him.

“What?” he says, caught off guard by your question.

“What is your favorite color?”

“Uhh, green?” he says unsurely.

“Are you sure?” you ask him as you smile a bit.

“Mh, you?” he asks you.

“I would have to say, purple.” you tell him.

“I like purple,” he says.

“I like green too.” you tell him, which gets a smile from him.

“Carol said you cleaned me up.” he says, “Thanks.”

“Well can it old habits of taking care of people when they decide to roll around in the mud.” you tell him humorously, “Also I just wanted to make sure the dirt wasn't hidin’ anything important.”

The next day you wake up in pain, your back killing you and your head pounding. You missed your bed, your pillows and blankets, and your stuffed animals. While you didn't own a lot you missed your belongings. Most of all you missed music. It had been so long since you had listened to your favorite albums, most likely you never would again.

When you got up for the day though it instantly got better. Deciding to join Lori in completing chores you had walked over to her, to which she gave you two bowls of food and told you to go to Daryls tent. Most people had steered clear of Daryl as much as possible, they had decided that you would bring Daryl his food seeing as how he likes you the most.

There had only been one other visitor for him so far, Andrea. She had gone to his room in the house only to be told he had relocated outside. When she arrived at his tent she found him lying on the ground fidgeting with a bolt.

After apologizing for shooting him and giving him the book she had brought with her, she turned to leave only to be stopped by Daryl's voice.

“Who gave you that?” he asks her, with amusement.

“Ask your girlfriend,” she calls to him over her shoulder.

While walking towards Daryl's tent you see Andrea leaving from his camp. When you both get closer to one another you see just how much your fist affected her face. Her cheek is swollen where you had punched her. The bruise was also nasty looking, even though you wanted to feel sorry about it you couldn't because she had deserved it. You finish your walk and see Daryl laying on the ground of his tent.

“Brought you some food.” you tell him, handing it to him.

“Thanks.” he says before starting to eat. You were not really sure what to do, so you continued to stand. “You can sit down.”

“Okay.” you tell him, sitting down and starting to eat your food.

“Did you punch Andrea?” he asks you, you can hear the amusement of it in his voice.

“Yeah.” you tell him covering your face with your hands. You weren't embarrassed by the action you had taken but now sitting here with the person you had done it for you were. What surprised you was he started to laugh. Which caused you to start laughing as well with your face still in your hands.

“Why?” he says.

“I thought she killed you and even after I knew you were alive, I was just so angry.” you tell him.

“You punched her for me?” he says, you're pretty sure the question isn't directed at you but you answer it anyways.

“I'd do anything for you.” you honestly hadn't meant to say it, the meaning of it being too heavy to actually say but you did. As of yesterday you had assumed that Daryl felt the same way about you. But sitting here in his tent made you doubt, while you waited for him to say something.

“Hey we are going to practice shooting, thought you might want to come.” you heard Rick's voice come from outside of the tent.

“I’ll… uh see you later.” you tell him gathering your bowls before getting out of the tent. His response, or lack there-of, confused you. Yesterday when you had stayed up with him for so long just talking you were convinced that what you felt for him was reciprocated, but here you were second guessing yourself.

Daryl felt like an idiot. He was angry at himself for acting how he did. He was so convinced that what you had said last night didn't really mean anything. His hallucinations of Merel had really messed with him and he had woken up this morning almost convinced that last night had been a dream. As soon as you said those words though he had nearly short circuited. All of the work of him keeping his distance from you had gone down the drain.

Even hours after you had left he kept replaying the words over and over in his head. What he didn't know was that so were you. After arriving at the area that was designated for shooting you had shown Rick and Shane that you were more capable than they had originally thought. Seeing as how you didn’t need much practice they had sent you away to help anyone else who needed it, the person you had focused most on was Jesse though. He had no idea how to properly shoot a gun.

At first he had tried to insist that shooting with one hand was the correct way to shoot. After arguing with him you conceded telling him to shoot the bottle on the fence post. The recoil of the gun knocks him over when he fires and he falls on his ass.

“Do you see why when we shoot we use both hands?” you ask him condescending.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he tells you, but never seeing him shooting with one hand again means your teaching worked.

You worked with him for a while until the only thing off was his aim which wasn't something you could completely fix, him getting better is up to how much he practices now. Happy with your progress, you move on to a few more people. Each of them having their own challenges until you all are told by Rick that it's time to get back to the farm.

After being away for so long you had nearly forgotten what had happened right before you left but as soon as you approached the farm the embarrassing memories came back. It made you want to dig a hole and live in it, obviously not possible. So the next best thing is to ignore.

Feelings for Daryl? No, even though everytime you see him you get butterflies. Attracted to Daryl? You're out of your mind, even though you had caught yourself on multiple occasions looking at him from across the farm. Wanting to spend time with him all the time? Never, except for in the evenings when you waited for him to sit by his fire so you can join him, and in the middle of the day when you think of something funny to tell him, of course in the mornings too when you would wait to see if he had left already to find Sophia, and most of all at night when you were left alone with your thoughts. This is bad, you decided. Getting over him was out of the question, seeing as how your entire mind was filled with thoughts of him, you, you both together. Yeah definitely not.

You decided to steer clear of Daryl for a while, which lasted until Lori asked you to take dinner to him. You caved instantly, your desire to see him building more and more throughout the rest of the day. When you approached the tent and could see inside you found Daryl reading a book. It was an amusing sight to say the least. You hadn't given Daryl enough credit if he had the patience to read a book. He still hadn't noticed you so you cleared your throat.

“I brought food.” you tell him.

“ ‘m sorry.” he says quietly.

“What? Why are you sorry?” you ask him, you had decided to never bring it up again to spare yourself the embarrassment.

“For earlier. I aint good with things like this.” he told you while you join him inside his tent.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn't have said that, it was too much.” you tell him.

“It’s okay if ya didn’ mean it.” he tells you.

“Well I didn’t say that.” you say to him.

“So you do?”

“Hmm?”

“Ya did mean it?” he asks you.

“Of course I meant it, I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true.” you tell him.

Daryl was never really one for words, he had always thought actions spoke louder than words. The action he took next spoke the loudest. He leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. It was just for a split second before he pulled away from you. When he opened his eyes you could see him studying your face looking for any sign of disgust. He didn't find any but he was taken aback by you pressing your lips to his this time with an intensity he didn't have in the initial one.

The action took his breath away but made him want you even more. His hand found the back of your head and the other rested on your thigh. You brought your hand up to his cheek, both of you staying like this until you had to pull apart to breathe. When you open your eyes you see Daryl studying your face. You pressed forward again, going in to kiss him again. He meets you in the middle, his hand finding where it had been on the back of your head. That is when you are interrupted by Jesse calling for you. Getting closer to the tent with each step.

“I- i have to go.” you tell him, but not before he pulls you in yet again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He presses forward anyways, stealing one final kiss before letting you go. When you climb out of the tent you see Jesse right away. Slowly walking towards the tent, he sees you and waves. You walk over to him and you both walk back to camp but not before you glance back at Daryl's tent and see him watching you walk away.

That night you can’t help yourself from imagining that your time in the tent had continued. You stare up at the top of the tent sweating from the heat of Georgia that your years living here couldn't have conditioned you for. The group had started talking about what you were going to do in the winter, seeing as how the temperatures were starting to drop. You couldn't help but feel as though they were making a bigger deal out of winter than you had initially thought. You had spent most of your life living in Michigan and nothing could compare to those winters. The months seem to drag on forever but you lived in Georgia now which had a much more temperate climate.

You decide to get up and go outside but not before grabbing your knife and a flashlight. The only other person who was up was Dale who was keeping a watchful eye on the property yet again. He notices you and waves, you return the gesture. The firepit was still smoldering to your enjoyment when you sit down. The air is cooler out here with nobody else near you. You hear footsteps coming up to you and when you look up it is the person who has been taking over all of your thoughts.

“Surprised to see you over here.” you tell him, smirking slightly.

“Came to view the real estate.” he tells you.

“You thinking of moving over here?” you ask him, which he makes a noise you take as an agreement. “There is space next to us if you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

When you wake up the next morning you are in a better mood than you had been in for a while. The weight of your feelings for Daryl finally getting off your mind and instead enjoying whatever time you spent with him. Your back didn't hurt like it had yesterday and your head felt normal.

Of course normal can only last so long, because when you get Jesse and the girls up for breakfast a very distressed looking Glenn is waiting to tell you all news.

“So, the barn is full of walkers.”

<Previous Part/Next Part>

Masterlist

[egirljuices]

Among them - Chapter 1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Season 3 and onwards

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: General Walking Dead warnings, mentions of SH, SA 

Word count: 3k

Author’s note: It’s been like 6 years since I last wrote a fanfic, please don’t mind how horrible it is. Just little scenarios I’ve had in my head, while at work or sewing. Decided to put them down for anyone else to enjoy. I plan to try and write a chapter every second Thursday, or every Thursday if I can. 

»»————————-　➴　————————-««

The sounds of the trees rustling were the only sound as she trudged through the forest, quietly, following behind a man. He looked clean, for the most part, and had weapons, and looked at least somewhat fed. She knew, in that world, it meant only one thing. Safety. If this was any other time, before the shit storm happened, she would have just introduced herself. However, the last time she put her guard down around another living human… It did not end well.

She ducked further behind the dead, seeing as the man tensed up and looked around, crossbow aiming in all directions he looked. She just needed to see where he was going, but he really didn’t seem interested in the small horde of 5 or 6 dead, including her. The dead weren’t interested in her, as she hid behind one of them, they kept snarling towards the man and following behind him at a snails pace.

He slung his bow behind in his shoulder as he noticed it was just walkers, he didn’t even want to bother wasting the bullet. The herd was so small, it wasn’t worth it. His eyes traced over the walkers as he kept moving, one of them seemed different, but it still looked pale and dirty. He couldn’t see it’s face very much with the hood pulled up, but it looked freshly turned. That didn’t bode well for the rest of the group.

He walked out of the dense forest to the cracked road, and pulled off some leaves from the ditch, underneath was his bike, which he promptly picked up and put it on the road. She knew he would usually bring his bike, and knew it was going to make following him to wherever camp was a lot harder. He turned back looking into the forest at the herd slowly making their way to him one last time, noticing the odd one seemed to quickly slump over instead of stand up straight when he did so. Shaking that thought from his hand, he took off on his bike.

She quickly started running towards the way his bike went, she’s been following him for a week now since she found him here hunting. Trying to figure out where he went back to all the time, scope out the place and decide if she was well enough to try and get in with the man’s group. She thought she must be closer, now, as usually she lost him before he even got on his bike, she didn’t even know he used one.

As the sun disappeared behind the horizon of trees and the air became crisp with the night, she finally stumbled upon it. Staying hidden in trees, she watched as she saw a huge concrete structure, surrounded by fences. There was no dead in the fences, just outside, banging on the metal to attract more, desperate to get in. She pulled out her binoculars from her bag, which she had hidden when the hunter came around and peered down to the yard of concrete. She couldn’t see anyone, surprised by them having no watchers. She noticed the tall tower on the left and averted her eyes to it. She saw a man and a woman sitting beside each other up there, smiling and talking to each other. She looked around the fences, looking for an opening and noticed the fence looked different in one spot, almost as if had been cut open before and stitched together with a different metal. Slipping the binoculars back in her back, she slung it over her shoulder and readied a hang on her throwing knives rested around her thigh. She didn’t plan to hurt anyone, but she wanted to get closer and make sure they were safe before making her presence aware.  

She laid a blanket down close to the tree line. She couldn’t hear them, but she could watch them. She watched them for a couple days, seeing a baby at some point, an old man missing part of his leg and a young boy. Upon seeing them she knew they must be good people. Bad people didn’t keep the weak or young around. On the third day, the day she decided she’d approach the hunter, or even walk right up to the metal gate they left from, she saw the hunter getting on his bike to head out. Perfect timing. She was planning on just flagging him down on the road as he sped by her. She heard the rumble of the motorcycle and stepped her combat boots on the concrete, putting her hands above her head to show she was unarmed. As the bike came into view, he slowed down, a pretty significant distance between them, hastily pulling out his crossbow and aiming it at her, slowly walking towards her.

“Whatcha want?” He had a deep raspy voice, with a southern drawl to it.

She lowered her arms slightly in front of her. “I just… I just need somewhere. I bring no harm.”

He took in her form, wearing black scuffed and dirty combat boots, ripped and dirty jeans with socks over the hem, a dirty black pull over hoodie with rips and tears. She had choppy [y/h/c] hair, looking like it was cut short with knife rather than scissors, stopping just above her shoulders and her [y/e/c] eyes looked desperately at him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. “Look like a walker.” He stated.

“I am one, that’s how I survived.” She spoke lowly, she knew he heard her, but he didn’t say anything about her statement.

“Ya ‘lone out ‘ere or wha’?” He looked behind her, to his right and left, but kept the crossbow centered on her frame.

She sighed. “Yeah.”

He lowered his crossbow slightly. “How many walkers ya kill?”

“None.” She stated, stiffening a bit.

“How ya manage to kill none and survive this long?” He asked, his voice laced with confusion and doubt. Was she lying to his face?

“It’s complicated.” She scrunched up her face, her nose wrinkling and shook her head.

“How many people ya kill?” He raised his crossbow a little more, glaring his deep blue eyes at her.

She choked, her eyes glossing with tears, which she quickly blinked back. “One.”

“Why?” He took a step closer to her, confused on the answers she gave.

“I couldn’t…. I didn’t… He deserved so much more….” Her voice was soft, cracking at points, changing in pitch and her body trembled.

He lowered his crossbow completely now, resting it at his side. “We got people. A group. Yer welcome to join us, but ya got to hand over yer weapons.” He approached her cautiously.

She looked down at her throwing knives, only the three hearts on the handle sticking out. She only had 2 within arms reach. The others were in her pack. She shook her head to him. “I can’t. All I got are the knives, and they mean more to me than my life.” Her face hardened and she clamped a palm over the knife holster on her thigh.

Seeing no real danger in a couple dinky throwing knives, he shrugged his shoulders and slung the crossbow over his shoulder. “’Ight. Get on the bike, drive ya back to my group.”

She relaxed and took a couple steps closer to him. “[y/n].”

He turned to her, tilting his head, his blue eyes locking on to her [y/e/c] ones. “Daryl.”

She nodded to him and walked behind him as he swung back on his bike, and nodded to her. She sat on behind him, unsure what to do with her hands. Normally, she knew she’d hold on to him, but she felt he wouldn’t like that.

“Yer gon’ fall off. ‘Old on.” He replied to her thoughts, his words sounding more like a grumble than talking.

She wrapped her arms around his midsection and rested her head on his back. She felt him stiffen underneath her, but he started the bike anyway.

The drive was nice, feeling the wind in her hair, feeling a warm body, alive, breathing. She felt comfortable. It didn’t take them long to get back to the gate, she noticed it was the young boy in a sheriff hat opening the gate for them as Daryl drove the bike into the yard.

She quickly hopped off, her boots hitting the gravel road and looked up to immediately have the kid pointing a gun towards her. She held up her hands quickly. “Whoa, kid, I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

Daryl kicked the stand on his bike up and turned to look at the young boy. “Carl, put it down, where’s ya dad?”

“He’s coming.” The boy, named Carl, motioned up with his head, keeping his eyes trained on the woman in front of him.

Daryl and her eyes moved to where the boy motioned, seeing a man in a beige button down, with the sleeves slightly rolled up, black pants and brown boots. He jogged up to Daryl and Carl as she kept her hands up.

“Who’s this, Daryl?” He asked, squinting his eyes due to the sun, and looking over at her.

“Don’t know. Found ‘er on the road. Says she alone.” He shrugged, answering the man.

The man turned to her, “How many walkers have you killed?” he asked, softly, not as harsh as Daryl had.

“None.” She answered at the same time as Daryl grumbled it.

The man looked confused. “How…. How many people have you killed?”

“One.”

“Wh-“ He started, but she knew what he was asking.

“Because I couldn’t see him like that.” She breathed out angrily, not wanting to keep bringing it up. Fresh tears stung her eyes again, but she bit them back.

The mans jaw hardened. He stepped towards her, holding out his hand. “Rick.”

“Y/N” She took his hand, shaking it weakly.

“We should get her to Hershel, make sure she’s not bit or hurt.” Rick turned to Daryl. “You comin’ with, or going out?”

“Curious to know how she survived this long.” He spoke, turning towards the concrete prison behind them.

Rick looked to her. “Follow us, don’t try anything stupid, we’ll put you down faster than you can plan anything.” He stated and started walking a bit ahead of her.

She noticed the young boy started following behind her, rifle still held against his body and giving her a cold glare.

As they walked into the prison, Rick held up his hand in the first room they entered. “Stay here.” He commanded.

She looked around, it was a concrete room with a couple round cafeteria tables and a cage room in the corner. She had never been in a prison before, and leaned on one side of her body. The adrenaline of meeting these people was wearing off, and the lack of food or water in her system was starting to leave it’s mark on her.

Daryl seemed to notice, his hard eyes looking down at her form as her eyes looked to droop some, and he noticed just how tired she had looked. “Ya can sit down.” He said, breaking the silence after Rick left.

She turned to him at her side and smiled up at him weakly. “Thanks.” She crossed the room to the tables and sat on the bench seat of it. Biting her lip and looking over at Daryl and the boy, Carl. Her leg began to shake up and down. A nervous habit she had shared with him.

Carl never seemed to take his eyes off her, looking like she had crossed him somehow, but she could see fear in his eyes. Daryl, meanwhile, looked anywhere but her. The minutes it took Rick to come out, with the hobbling old man she’s seen in the yard, felt like hours in the silence of the big concrete room. She knew there was more people here, but they were oddly quiet, and no where to be seen.

The old man limped over to her in his crutches and smiled softly down at her. “I’m Hershel, I have medical experience and I can look you over, if you’d like.”

She felt instant comfort in his presence and nodded slowly. “I’m fine, no pain anywhere, just haven’t eaten or had water in a while.”

Rick came up behind him, passing her a bottle of water. She eagerly drank from the bottle. Setting it down on the table once she drank over half of it.

“How’d you survive killing no walkers?” Rick asked her.

She pushed her lips together and started to play with the ring on her finger. What would he say? What would he do? She thought. She realized it be better to tell them the truth now, than lie to them and them find out later. “Please don’t shoot me.” She said, breaking the silence as she thought.

“Don’t do nothin’ stupid ‘n’ we won’t.” Daryl’s rough voice spoke up. He was now stopped a little behind Rick and staring down at her.

She clenched her teeth together, “I was bit.” She waited a second, seeing Daryl raise his crossbow at her head in the exact second the words exited her mouth.

Hershel leaned back on his crutches and Rick put his hand over his python on his hip. “When?” Rick asked.

She looked up at them now, meeting Rick’s eyes. “When this first thing started.” She stated, trying to keep her fear hidden.

Rick stepped closer, stepping in front of Hershel. “How?”

“Wha’ ya sayin’, woman!” Daryl’s voice was louder now, and he glared at her, his crossbow still raised to her head.

“I’ll show you. Let Hershel look at it.” She said, calmly, trying to calm their nerves. She lifted the hoodie over her head and rested it on her lap, using one of her hands to pull down the left side of her shirt. His lasting bite left between her neck and shoulder; a nasty scarred over wound.

Hershel stepped out from behind Rick and leaned closer to her, investigating the wound. “This is fully healed, Rick.” He stood straight again, and turned to Rick. “She’s not lying, it’s the truth.”

Rick looked at the wound on her shoulder, shaking his head. “How?” He repeated.

Her mouth went dry as she frantically looked between Hershel, Rick, Daryl and Carl, who had since lowered his rifle to his side in surprise. “I… I stayed with him. I was the reason…. I was the reason… He tried protecting me… I just…. I held… I held him.” She stuttered out slowly. Tears now freely flowing down her face. She snapped her eyes down to her hands, scrunched up in the hoodie, the ring shining up at her. Mocking her. She was the reason he was dead. It should’ve been her.

“Stop.” Surprisingly, Daryl’s raspy voice called out, he swung his crossbow behind his back. “Don’t gotta talk ‘bout it if ya don’t wanna.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at the old man. “He’s right. We’re sorry, we just needed to know. You don’t have to tell us how it happened.” Hershel spoke softly to her.

Rick, however, looked at her sternly. “So, you didn’t change? You didn’t die?”

She quickly nodded her head. “They don’t want me, either. I can walk right in front of the Dead, they don’t care.” She wiped the tears from her face away and smirked, shaking her head. “Even at the end of the world, I’m not noticeable.”

The words she spoke struck a nerve in Daryl, he felt like his heart was stabbed into. Seeing that look of defeat on her face as she said it, hearing the words come from her mouth. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to hear her say it again. “Nah, ya gots the advantage.” He encouraged her.

Rick nodded to Daryl. “You can freely walk among them, you are safe.”

Her face hardened as she knew what they meant, but they never were truly alone. They seemed to have each other for at least a while now. “The dead don’t make good company.” She said bitterly.

Hershel pats her shoulder and looked to Rick. “Well, seeing as how she doesn’t seem to be a threat, no reason we can’t be good company.”

Rick took a deep breath and nodded. “You don’t hurt my people, you put in work, you can be part of us. But I won’t hesitate to put you down if you hurt anyone, or that infection starts to show.” His tone was serious.

“Understood.” She slipped the black hoodie, his hoodie, over her body again.

“Carl, show her to a cell. Daryl, Hershel and I are gonna talk.” Rick looked at the boy, who assumed was his son based on what Daryl said earlier.

He nodded and started walking towards a closed gate. She got up and quickly caught up to the boy.

She coughed. “Thanks for not shooting me, Carl.” She used his name instead of kid, wanting him to not hate her as much as he looked like he did.

He simply nodded and took her up the stairs, passing by a bottom row of cells. The upstairs had more. He walked her over to the last one, closest to a look out of sorts in the center. “I’m putting you near Daryl in case anything happens, just know he’ll be there to stop you.” He spoke sharply, turning on his heels and walking to the stairs.

She pushed open the cell and peaked inside, it had a bunk bed, with actual mattresses, at least, the bottom one did. It was small, dark and isolated from the rest of the cells downstairs that looked decorated and lived in. She put her backpack down in front of the bed and flopped down on it. The act of laying on a soft surface causing her back to ache.

She thought about the hunter, and how she followed him for weeks, and how he never seemed to notice her in the horde of dead she snuck through. She thought about how everyone seemed stand-offish to her, even the friendly old man who seemed nice, but she could see he was unsure of her. Playing with her ring, while her hands rested on her stomach, she closed her eyes, thinking of him. What he would do to gain their trust. Thinking of him, she didn’t even noticed, she had fallen asleep.

[tameodesza]

Dead Ends (BretShawn) ch.7

<<ch.6 | masterlist | AO3 link | ch.7>>

Summary: Shawn attempts to comfort Bret as he mourns the loss of his parents.

Date: May 14, 1996 Time: 5:45 pm Location: Hart House

After double-checking that the Walkers were dead, Shawn made his way down into the basement to scope out the area, the blond wanting to avoid any more surprise visitors.

After determining that the coast was clear, he headed back up the steps, later emerging from the house to find Bret sitting on the porch blankly staring at the ground.

Shawn slowed his pace, silently standing behind Bret unknowing of what to say to the broken man. There was nothing he could say to make the situation any better.

Shawn sighed before sitting down awkwardly next to Bret, mindfully keeping a short distance between them. Without thinking, he raised a hand meant to pat Bret on the shoulder but stopped short, bringing his hand back to himself.

He hadn’t always been the best at comforting others, and fighting for his life every day certainly hadn’t softened him up. So he sat there quietly hoping his presence would be enough to let Bret know he was there for him.

He wouldn’t wish what happened to Bret on his own worst enemy. As much as they didn’t get along, Shawn still had some sort of care for the man, though he probably wouldn’t describe it as that. He tolerated him at best. But regardless, he didn’t want Bret going through this alone.

For a moment, the only sound between them was the wind rustling the leaves in the surrounding trees. The silence was broken when Bret sniffed and rubbed at his eyes before saying what was really on his mind.

He whispered, “I couldn’t even face them.” Shawn glanced at Bret, analyzing his solemn expression as the man continued. “After all they’ve done for me, I couldn’t even see them out. Some son I am, right?” He ended with a humorless chuckle.

Shawn furrowed his brows, not liking the way Bret was beating himself up over a situation that was out of his control.

“You saved yourself a world of pain. Trust me,” the blond offered.

“I just don’t get it. None of this makes sense. My siblings were supposed to be here taking care of them. But where were they?”

“Who knows?”

“I’m starting to think they left to fend for themselves.” The thought alone was chilling.

Shawn shrugged, “Maybe. Nothing in this world surprises me.”

Bret sighed, resting his head atop his clasped hands, saying, “I still can’t believe my parents didn’t make it. My dad was the toughest guy I’d known. My mother was extremely bright. And to think that they were left alone doesn’t make this shit any better.”

Shawn pursed his lips, a slight pain in his chest as he thought of his own parents. He’d come to the conclusion long ago that the likelihood of his parents being alive was slim to none. But as much as it hurt to think it were true, at least he didn’t have to watch them become Walkers before his eyes.

Shawn threw caution to the wind, attempting to comfort the man by saying, “Hey, at least they were together.” Bret threw Shawn a confused look, prompting the blond to say, “Shit, I mean. Fuck, I’m not good at this. Never mind.”

Bret blinked a few times, puzzled at seeing Shawn look so flustered. He said lightly, “No, go ahead.”

Shawn let out a breath, saying, “I just meant that whatever happened to them, they seemed to have went through it together. They were together until the end. Many can’t say the same.”

It was a bit morbid, but Bret did appreciate the sentiment. Bret nodded slowly in thought, saying, “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Bret cleared his throat and wiped the last of his misty eyes. He let out a mirthless laugh before saying, “You must think I’m such a pussy.”

Bret expected to hear Shawn’s usual harsh banter, but was surprised to see Shawn’s eyebrows knit together, the blond saying almost defensively, “No. I think you’re human, which is something that’s been lacking in this fucked up world - humanity, genuine emotions. Bask in it before you become void of emotions like me.”

At that, Shawn stood up and headed back inside of the house, Bret’s curious eyes following the blond until the door shut behind him.

Bret stayed outside a little while longer, watching the sun set as he took Shawn’s advice and allowed himself to process his emotions. He didn’t know if he’d get another moment to have time to himself, so he took advantage of the alone time.

He thought of his parents, his favorite memories of them, and hoped that they were together in a better place.

-

Bret opened the front door, almost running into Shawn who’d just come from upstairs, the blond looking and feeling refreshed.

While Bret was outside, Shawn had taken a quick bird bath in the upstairs bathroom with a rag, soap, and bottled water he’d found. He’d also been fortunate enough to find a battery-powered electric shaver, the tool still having power. It wasn’t as close of a shave as he wanted, it beat having an itchy uneven beard.

Bret did a double take, not used to seeing Shawn without his usual fuzzy beard.

“Hey,” Shawn said warily. “Um, I left some water up there for you. You should go freshen up.”

Bret nodded numbly, letting out a quick ‘thanks’ before walking past Shawn to head upstairs.

Shawn watched him leave, his neutral expression slightly wavering before turning to search for some candles to light the darkening home.

Moments later, Bret came downstairs with a cleanish shave of his own to find Shawn sitting in a chair staring out the large living room window, eyes unmoving as if he were in a trance. He seemed to snap from his daze at the sound of the staircase creaking under Bret’s weight, his eyes landing on the older man as he sat on a couch adjacent to Shawn.

The air grew stiff as an unbearable silence filled the room, Bret making no moves to talk. Shawn shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he looked expectantly at the older man. For better or for worse, Shawn had grown accustomed to the silence being filled by Bret’s voice, and after what had happened earlier in the day, a quiet Bret was a cause for concern.

“How are you holding up,” Shawn eventually asked.

But instead of answering, Bret said, “I’ll take first watch.”

Shawn tilted his head in question. “I think you should rest.”

Bret stood from the couch, walking to Shawn as he said, “I’m fine. Wouldn’t be able to rest anyway if I wanted to.”

“Bret-”

“Get some rest, Shawn. I’m good.”

Shawn took a good look at Bret and noted how exhausted the man appeared, but he also didn’t have the energy to argue with the man as he was tired himself. So he reluctantly nodded before heading to the couch Bret had just occupied.

After getting settled, Shawn said, “Wake me up if you start feeling tired.” Shawn barely heard Bret’s response, the blond immediately falling into a slumber as his head rested on the soft cushion.

Shawn woke up a few hours later, much to his dissatisfaction. He’d always had issues sleeping through the night even before the virus.

He wiped his bleary eyes before shifting around on the couch, intending to go back to sleep. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of an empty chair – an empty chair that Bret should have been sitting in.

Shawn sat up groggily, initially not alarmed as he guessed Bret was in the bathroom. But as the minutes stretched and Shawn failed to hear Bret walking around the home, Shawn quickly became worried.

“Bret,” Shawn called as he looked around the dimly lit room.

After not receiving a response, Shawn got off the couch and grabbed his gun before lightly padding feet on the floor to not make a sound.

Just as he was about to head down a hallway, he noticed something move out the corner of his eye. He swiftly turned his head to a window that faced the backyard. He looked closely, eyes locking on someone standing in the distance. After squinting and examining the outline of a man, he realized it was Bret.

“What the hell,” Shawn uttered, slightly pissed at Bret for leaving him alone and not keeping a look out for Walkers. Shawn took a deep breath, forcing himself to swallow down his anger before making his way out the back door.

He marched towards Bret, saying as he got closer, “Hey, what are you d-” Shawn’s voice got caught in his throat once he saw Bret hunched over with a shovel in his hands and what looked to be a shallow grave before him.

Bret paused mid-shovel at Shawn’s voice, lowering his shovel as he stood to face the blond. “Sorry, Shawn.”

“Why are you out here? Why’d you leave,” Shawn rushed out.

Bret answered dejectedly, “I know I was supposed to stay inside, but I couldn’t rest easy knowing my parents’ bodies were still in the basement. They…I thought they at least deserved a proper burial.”

Bret lowered his head, knowing Shawn had every right to be pissed. He’d left him alone and wasn’t keeping watch, which put them both at risk.

Shawn was stuck, trapped between yelling at the man and slapping some sense into him. But neither came.

Instead of getting chewed out by the blond, Bret was stunned to see Shawn walk off to the toolshed, grabbing a spare shovel as he grumbled, “You could’ve at least woke me up to help.”

Bret watched with raised eyebrows as Shawn stood on the other side of the grave, driving his shovel into the ground to pick up where Bret left off. He said breathlessly, “Shawn-”

“Stop looking and start shoveling. This grave isn’t going to dig itself.”

Bret was slow to move, looking on for a few more seconds before digging his own shovel back into the dirt.

Although it seemed that Shawn didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, Bret was touched. It was in that moment that Bret realized that the blond wasn’t as heartless as he once believed.

After digging the grave deep enough, the men headed back into the house to retrieve Bret’s parents from the basement. Bret carried his mom while Shawn dragged his dad’s body towards the grave, nose twisted at the Walker stench he’d never get used to.

Shawn watched as Bret placed both of the bodies into the grave, the older man being gentler than Shawn would have been.

After saying a final goodbye, Bret picked up the shovel and handed Shawn his own, both men covering the grave with the dirt they’d just dug up.

After they’d settled back into the house, Bret said to Shawn, “Thanks,” truly appreciative of the help he received from Shawn that day.

Shawn only nodded before saying firmly, “Get some rest.” He wasn’t taking no for an answer this time, and thankfully, Bret didn’t protest.

As Bret rested, Shawn stared emptily into the flame of a nearby candle, attempting not to spiral as unwanted memories began to flood back to the surface.

[thistransient]

On Sunday I was supposed to meet again the friend I’d just met Thursday, but we mutually cancelled as he was tired and I thought it was going to be too cold. It turned out to not be cold. In fact, the weather was downright delightful, and I decided it was time to finally get in some of the bike riding that had been postponed on account of my being a decrepit invalid for most of the holiday break. What I had in mind was to complete the segment of the riverside bike path that runs along the Xindian River 新店河 from Bitan 碧潭 to Wanhua 萬華 (about 17 km). Easier said than done because the wind tends to blow upriver, meaning if I wanted to not pedal angrily into it for an hour I needed to go down to Xindian and start from there, and it takes me forever to get out of the house. (I took the train to Xingtian Gong 行天宮 and then the bus so I could at least look out the window on the way.)

Little did I suspect (all of my brain cells are currently committed to Mandarin, remember) that a Sunday afternoon with nice weather was NOT the time to go bicycling by the river. Everyone and their extended family and their dog (or several) were out there, committing various bicycle crimes like riding five abreast, pedaling so slowly that walking might be faster, or meandering back and forth across the center line. To make things worse there were walkers, runners, and various other electric-powered contraptions at large. I discovered if one rings a bike bell at a small child in an attempt to give warning while passing on the left, they will inevitably turn to look and in doing so swerve directly in front of you. At one point I saw a young guy on a racey-looking bike weaving in and out at a brisk pace and felt very envious of the ground he was covering, until I came upon him later, stalled after having crashed simultaneously into two rental-bicyclists who seemed unhurt but were glaring ferociously.

An unexpected benefit of the masses was that eventually the bike path turned into a road and crossed a bridge, a point where I might have been confused if I were alone but everyone else seemed to know where they were going so I tagged along with great results.

This general situation meant, however, that I didn’t dare take my eyes off the chaos and thus endanger my life, so there was no stopping for any pictures until I absolutely had to sit down for some water and a snack around Guting 古亭, having pedaled at top speed the whole way, trying in vain to escape the crowd. (My top speed anyways, which isn’t necessarily very fast, especially on a three-gear Ubike, but I think I passed more people than passed me, at any rate.)

Once I got further along into Wanhua things thinned out, although that may just have been because it was getting to be dinnertime. By the time I made it to my end destination (linking up with where I’d done that bike ride from Wanhua around Shezi 社子 back in September) my legs refused to go on and it was time to go home. At this point things turned up, because the Ubike station was a few streets down, and Wanhua is an interesting place at night, so I had a good wander about taking pictures and inevitably ended up at Longshan Temple 龍山寺, which always has a fancy lantern display for Chinese New Year. This ending more than made up for all the struggling along the way.

To be honest, the Xindian River path is actually a very nice ride, from what I managed to see while also trying my damndest not to collide with anything or anyone. I would try it again... possibly on a cloudy weekday.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

My Re-Watch of Ghosts

So, I may or may not have watched Ghosts again last night. I don’t know that I have anything to say that we haven’t discussed before, but here are some thoughts I had.

I wanted to watch it again because I looked back through my edits and found one that just pointed out the final, weirdo dream Carol has where Daryl is making breakfast and Henry sits at the table wearing the compass rose t-shirt. I had the thought that he simply must represent Beth in this dream. Henry was a major proxy for Beth anyway, and in this episode, Carol is very much “searching” for him, but never really finds him. He’s the most obvious “ghost” of the title.

And then I started to wonder if everything that happens in this episode with Carol in the school is a callback to Grady in some way. Not necessarily what we know of Grady, but specifically what we don’t know and didn’t see.

Of course, I also think it’s probably a foreshadow to when/how they stumble upon Beth. Carol is so totally entangled in this whole situation, in ways we don’t yet understand. I think it probably stretches back to something we didn’t see at Grady, which I’ll get into in a minute, but she’s also going to be key to helping Beth return to Daryl.

It also made me think of various things we saw in Diverged in the Carol/Dog/Rat situation. And I kind of think that that, and what happens in Ghosts, and what we saw in 6x13, all point to the exact same thing. They just use different symbols to foreshadow it for us.

So, with all of this top of mind, I re-watched Ghosts.

We start, of course, with the waves of walkers that Alpha claims are not her doing. I think we can all agree that this probably represents the CRM and all their walker shenanigans in some way. It could also call back to the 800 walkers we didn’t see in the missing scenes of Coda, but chances are the CRM is responsible for both, so it all amounts to the same thing.

Then we have them drinking coffee in the woods, which we’ve discussed extensively. Per Paula in 6x13, the coffee changes the nature of the water itself. So, to have them drinking coffee in the woods here, makes me think of two things.

I think it’s a callback to 6x13. And if you remember, there were tons of Beth and resurrection references in that episode as well. Blond walker (though not animated) on the ground, holding a rosary, much like Beth did at Grady. The set of the Saw movie, at the end of which the “dead” person who’d been shot in the head stands up and is actually alive. All that jazz.

But I think there’s a specific reason they use this as a Carol symbol, and that they explained to us what it meant through Paula in S6. The point is that the coffee didn’t just change the format of something or tweak it a little. It changed the nature of the thing itself.

So, I really think Carol did something back in S5 that changed the nature of TF’s world. What? I have no idea. I thought on it for a bit, and I think the best bet is that it happened during the missing 17 days. After all, she ended up with Beth’s knife and we have no idea how or what brought that about.

And I don’t by any means think Carol did anything heinous. She’d be the first one to fight for Beth if she had any suspicion at all that she might be alive. So, whatever she did, she probably doesn’t realize she did it, or else didn’t realize how significantly one of her actions changed things, and led to wherever Beth ended up.

This is further bolstered by what happens next in Ghosts. Carol sees something that no one else does. In this case, three whisperers. Even though we don’t see direct evidence that they were real, the fact that the gal at the end who wakes up as a walker was real, and AK confirmed that, shows that Carol was seeing something real, but no one else saw it. And no one, including Daryl, truly believed her.

Could that be an analogy for something that happened during the missing 17 days? Or will that happen when she finds Beth first and no one believes her when she says she saw Beth alive?

Meanwhile, I’ll only touch on this once or twice, but in this same episode, we have the Aaron/Negan situation, that smacks heavily of Beth and Daryl in Still. There are green-covered walkers (think Cherokee Rose), hogweed, they go to a shack, it has diamonds, Aaron loses his sight, etc. To me, those callbacks are another way for writers to suggest there is a second, symbolic story being hinted at here.

So then Daryl, Carol, and co go to the Burnett academy, which has a huge dog on the side. (Sirius).

This is the part I felt might have been indicative of Grady or, dually, a foreshadow of the CRM. There are plenty of random clues, such as Daryl telling the story of the disappearing girl, the clock with no hands, which suggests “time escapes,” as the grandfather clock in Still did.

But to me, it feels like Carol goes looking for something here. She hears strange noises and sees shadows, and follows them. This is when she first sees the creepy walker girl that looks like Somara from The Ring. But it’s also the first time she sees Henry’s ghost. I feel like Carol was looking for Henry here, whether she realizes it or not. After all, she just came face to face with his killer, and Alpha said something about him dying screaming or something. That’s bound to dredge up some major PTSD.

So, I kind of feel like she goes looking for one thing (Henry) and finds another (this creepy whisperer girl). The walker/whisperer girl isn’t super like Beth, but I still think she may represent her in many ways.

Before I get to the climactic scene in the gym, a couple of other themes I noticed. Daryl kept telling her not to take the “coffee” pills so she could sleep. Though they never directly verbalized it, the idea is that, without sleep or rest (he says “you need to rest” at some point) you can’t see clearly what is happening and what is going on.

So, we could go lots of ways with this. Was TF asleep in some manner in S5, and so they couldn’t clearly see what happened with Beth and what was going on at Grady? TD has said similar things since Coda aired. Was Carol more awake and observant, and so she somehow saw something significant, even if she didn’t then and still doesn’t in the present realize how significant it was?

Again, these kinds of theories have been discussed before, but I feel like at some point, Carol will realize how significant whatever she saw was, and it will make her realize Beth is still alive.

The other thing I thought of with the talk of rest was what Maggie said to Daryl in 5x10. “It’s okay to rest now.” That always struck me as significant, though I wasn’t sure why. It’s almost like TF was asleep for a lot of S4 and S5, and they didn’t truly wake up until 5x10 when the music box also woke up. And of course we have the wake up theme around plenty of characters, including Denise.

Oh, one more thing. Before she goes to the gym, when she takes her final coffee pill and Daryl tells her to sleep, she says, “one more hour.” It’s part of the “one more” theme of the Aaron and Gabriel episode, which ALSO had tons of callbacks to Beth and Daryl. Just saying.

So, then we get to the part in the gym. I’ve tried to go take by take in this scene, and nothing really jumps out at me when I think of it that way. It works better with generalities.

So, in terms of this being a callback to Grady, Carol goes in, gets captured (in this case, by the rope trap) and then something really weird and surreal happens. The way they film it, we don’t *truly* see what goes down. But it results in Carol being badly injured, and the same girl Carol was in the place with (the whisperer gal) suddenly waking up at the end, when she should have been dead. That sounds awfully indicative of what happened with Beth at Grady.

It's probably also a template they’ll use for how Beth reappears. Carol is searching for something, just as Daryl was searching for Rick, and stumbles upon something she did not expect. Kinda like in Diverged when she stumbles upon Rat. She spends all this time and effort facing off with a rodent, kind of like all the time and effort she spent facing off with whisperer girl and looking for Henry.

In the end, she somehow frees herself from the trap, but she’s badly injured, and TF takes her to get medical care. At Grady, she was hurt badly, and TF took her with them, caring for her along the way.

So, just spit balling here, but if I had to guess, I’d say Carol is going to come into contact with the CRM, independent of anyone else in TF, and see Beth there. Carol will obviously try to talk to her or help her or whatever, depending on what the situation is, but much like rat, or the elusive ghost of Henry, Beth kind of runs and hides from Carol. Carol eventually gets free of the CRM, but she’s badly hurt, and somehow gets home. TF takes care of her of course, and that’s when she tells them what she saw, but none of them believe her. Just like in Ghosts.

This also feeds into what I’ve always thought about the end of Diverged. She doesn’t go around proclaiming to people that she’s seen a rat in that episode, lol. That wouldn’t have made much sense. But she was still the only one to see it. And the part where she’s looking for it in the dark and tears down the wall just looks a lot like the darkness of this school and specifically the gym. But in the end, when the rat finds its own way out, she and Jerry react with utter shock, even saying, “is that….?” Is that what? What’s so shocking about a rat running between your shoes? I’ve made the joke before it’s like they’re star-struck by a celebrity rat or something.

But if this is symbolic for them seeing Beth, that would make a lot more sense, wouldn’t it?

So, before I go into the dream, there are a couple of other small stories to touch on here, only because they both have Bethyl themes and callbacks to them. We get Rosita and Eugene talking and him finally coming to terms that there will never be anything romantic between them. I know we’ve talked about Bethyl themes and dialogue there. But what we couldn’t have realized when this aired, is that that scene led directly to Eugene finding his true love, Max. If he hadn’t finally understood how things were with him and Rosita, he wouldn’t have left and started a radio relationship with Max. The rest is history.

Then there is Siddiq and Dante drinking together. Again, just alcohol callbacks and such. Also, Dante talks about Afghanistan and Fallujah. I can pretty much guarantee that back when this aired, we had no inkling of the Afghanistan stuff. Just saying.

Okay, so then we get to Carol’s dream where Daryl makes breakfast and Henry sits at the table. No matter how you slice it, it’s a weird dream that makes no sense. Other than Henry and the compass rose, the biggest thing that jumps out at me is that Carol is wearing the watch with no hands, same as she saw in the Burnett Academy, which again calls back to the “time escapes” theme.

But what if the whole point of the time escapes theme is missing time that the audience hasn’t seen? After all, the hands on the clock aren’t running around it super-fast. They’re missing altogether. So, we’re pretty sure we had missing time at Grady, we definitely had missing time (17 days) after Grady. In this episode, we have missing time when whatever happened in the gym went down. And the dream seems to indicate it’s about what happened during one of those missing periods.

The other thing about this is that, even though Henry is sitting there, neither of them really acknowledge him. So, it *seems* like Carol sees him, but she has absolutely no reaction to him. If she suddenly saw Henry, she would definitely have an emotional reaction, whether joy or sadness or whatever, but she doesn’t. So, it’s almost like they don’t see him. Perhaps another indicator that Beth is there, but they just don’t see her.

So maybe this is about the future as well. The two of them bopping along together, but they don’t see that Beth is there, calling out to them. And Carol’s watch seems to indicate that something about this has to do with missing time.  

So then, of course, at the end, the walker girls wakes up. AK said it really was a walker, not someone waking up as a live human, but the point is, Carol did not hallucinate this person. And having her wake up is symbolic of Beth’s resurrection or awakening. Bottom line, Carol was in a very Grady-like place with this person, and then we see her “waking up.”

So, one might ask who this whisperer person was, why we never saw this again, why it was never explained. Because, it terms of Carol’s storyline, it doesn’t matter. It was never going to extend beyond this episode, which makes it feel nonsensical. But it was just there to parallel Beth and foreshadow some future storyline with Carol.

And again, I think we could go two ways for how this might play out. On the one hand, it represents Beth’s symbolic resurrection for TF and the GA at large. But I also think it could possibly be indicative of something I’ve conjectured about the Carol/Rat situation before:

Maybe when Carol first meets Beth, she won’t have all of her memories intact. Even if she had some images or flash-like visuals of Carol, she doesn’t *really* know who she is. Maybe that’s why she runs from Carol, because having these images and memories come back frightens her.

All I’m saying is that maybe the girl waking up at the end represents the “reawakening” of Beth’s memories. That’s all.

So yeah. Those are all my thoughts after rewatching. Kind of want to rewatch 6x13, now. Not sure if I will or not.

I’ll probably use this for my theory tomorrow. You know, since I bothered to write it up and everything. ;D It’s been quite a while since I did a big writeup like this. Even though none of it was groundbreaking, I had fun.

[imagibunny]

fine, fine. i'll bite. tell me about your zombies bunny.

i got this earlier and my brain was telling me ur tone was off

BUT!! i'm just gonna assume you meant this in good faith and that i'm not being annoying about my ocs, my brain is just being a lil bitch <3

general: - relatively speaking yvette's been a walker the longest, at 4 and a half years. cole's up next at 3 years, then cici and mimzie at 2 years, and vince has been a walker the shortest, only being 6 months. - cole and mimzie knew each other before they became zombies! mimz did ghost tours for cole's mom sometimes when she wasn't feeling well and they clashed a bit on how to handle it. - they all have "official" jobs; - mimz works at her mom's boutique - cole is a history teacher at the local middle school - vince is an it guy - cici works at her family's restaurant - yvette works at a nightclub - on a scale of 1-10 on who it'd be more dangerous to fight, yvette and mimz are both a solid 9.5, cici is a 7, vince is a 5, and cole is a 2 (this also account for the fact of how easy it'd be to make em go into zombie rage mode) - cole, mimz, and vince are the only ones who were born and raised in louisiana. cici is from new york originally, and yvette mentioned off hand once that it's from alberta canada. - all have a "sixth sense" for finding decomps. vince describes it as spiders running up his spine which is fair tbh. - most of em stick to raw meat to keep em calm, with brains used as a special occasion type of deal. all have their favorites of how to hide em but the crowd pleaser is cici's ghost pepper brain poppers.

mimzie - actually doesn't mind her full name (miriam) but has a bunch of nicknames; mimz, mimzie, riri, zee, mimi (she says as long as you don't call her late for dinner she's fine) - uses she/it pronouns and describes herself as "a girl, but take it back now y'all-" - has 3 pets; - an orange cat named skittles - a rat named stuie - a leopard gecko named romeo - the youngest of 5 and is the only girl, and is well aware of the fact this has granted her "dad's special girl" privileges. her brothers are aware of this too, and often come to her if they need something but dad said no to em. - is the closest with her brother tyler! loves her brothers all the same but you form a special bond with the sibling who helped you catch a rat snake cause you were convinced you'd die if it bit you. - has killed her fair share of decomps in the past 2 years. it's not normally bad, but the one big scare happened around halloween and was roughed up enough she had to stay home on bedrest for a couple weeks. - cannot sit still!! has to be moving or doing something constantly. usually fidgeting with a bracelet, pen, or anything she can get her hands on. - singing wise she mostly does covers and popular songs people know, and even then she just does local venues due to the whole zombie thing. still popular enough to need her crew. - she has a manager! in a way. her name's juniper, aka junie and she's been miriam's best friend since they were toddlers and junie dumped glitter on miriam's head cause she wanted to play fairies. - isn't a huge fan of labels and just says she's queer and is down for whatever. but due to how the last relationship ended, not exactly big on romance rn.

vince - only child syndrome!! and damn he acts like it sometimes!! has gotten an earful from everyone at least once if he doesn't watch his tone. - did not take the fact he's a zombie Well. like. at all. locked himself in his room for literal days and was on the verge of becoming a decomp when the others found out about him. - because he was infected by a decomp, he actively hates getting close to em. if he runs into one out on the street, he calls someone else and books it the other direction. - despite his cowardly nature he's not afraid to fight if he needs to, though this doesn't happen often and is most likely trying to keep mimzie from fighting someone. - he Kinda knew the dixie family before he met miriam officially, as he was in school with her brother tyler (a couple grades ahead but they were in clubs together) - much like miriam, he doesn't really have a preference attraction wise? when asked about it all he said was "who cares?" - despite being one of the walkers to dye his hair his natural color, he once did lose a bet and had to dye his hair green for a week. he didn't entirely hate this, considering he has green streaks in his hair - quite literally was forced into working for miriam! at first it was purely to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't run off and expose everyone, but she pays him fair enough and they get along so it's not like he entirely hates it (will gripe about it when she brings it up however) - he and yvette are the same height (5'7 - 170 cm)

cici - despite their VIOLENTLY differing personalities, is super close with yvette and usually is the one yvette actually Talks to - her mom's from cuba and her dad is a new york native! - speaking of, she hasn't seen her dad since she was 15 (her parents had been divorced way before that however) but they still talk and send each other postcards - doesn't mind her step dad, he makes her mom happy and that's all she cares about! gets along better with her half sister though. - woman liker club!! jokes aside cici is a lesbian and is open about it - was the one who reached out to others that showed zombie symptoms and offered a place to talk. - fully believes that dealing with this stuff alone is suffocating and very much treats the rest of the walkers like family - has a dog named harriet! - lives in a guest house in her parents' backyard, purely because she'd rather stick around (and avoid abysmal rent prices but that's a bonus) - was a bit of a stuck up bitch before getting infected! absolutely abysmal to talk to and hang out with, but after the fight that caused her to get scratched, she saw it as a second chance and is actively working towards on improving and reinventing herself. - sometimes slips into old behavior, and regrets it immensely afterwards. - notoriously has a secret stash of tea in her house, and i do actually mean secret stash of tea. her mom and stepdad always used to sneak some from her so she resorted to hiding it. - is the 2nd tallest after cole at 5'9 - 175cm

yvette - is pretty secretive and quiet, so no one knows much about it. all anyone knows is that it uses it/it's pronouns, it's name, and where it's from. - isn't a huge fan of talking, but since it's normally around cici it lets her do the talking for both of em - was found on the brink of becoming a decomp like vince was, the difference here is yvette was found in a back alley in new orleans rather then being locked up in a room - unknown where it's staying, all yvette has mentioned is it has family in the city and crashes on their couch. - isn't super close with anyone outside of cici, but gets along with vince just fine and it and cole had a silent understanding. meanwhile it has gotten into numerous fights with mimz and it has escalated once or twice - literally did not talk until someone mentioned it might be russian. first time anyone heard yvette speak and it was "i'm from canada." - aro/ace homie fr! wouldn't say romance repulsed but it firmly refuses the idea of itself in a romantic situation with anyone - the only one of the group to know walkers from outside. refuses to give away their ids based on the fact it doesn't like them and believes it's friends would be better off not knowing - CANNOT HANDLE SPICE FOR THE LIFE OF IT. cici makes a tamer version of the brain popper for it to eat just out of the fact the last time it ate the regular ones, yvette was out of commission for 3 days

cole - same as yvette as he doesn't talk about himself often, but he does actively communicate with everyone else - the most anyone knows about his private life is that he's married with a kid and he'd like to keep it that way (despite vince and cici's varied attempts to figure out more) - has a past in private security. how he went from that to being a history teacher is anyones guess - was (and still is) a huge skeptic about supernatural stuff, which caused him to butt heads with his mom who runs ghost tours around the city. despite his zombie status he still doesn't believe in the oogie boogies that go bump in the night and it frustrates mimz to no end - despite arguing from time to time, he does love his mom. but he is closer with his dad out of the two of em, while his younger brother is closer with their mom - is the least likely to rage out and go full zombie mode. granted he has a decomp kill history like everyone else, but unlike everyone else he doesn't need to be full zombie to do so if you get the jist - man has AWFUL sleeping habits. is known for staying up for days at a time just because he forgot to sleep and is not above staying awake out of spite. - he's a bit silly goofy!! has gotten into petty fights with other walkers just for the hell of it, and once played a game with vine and yvette to see who could push mimz buttons the most (vince won, he ate her mom's leftovers she brought home) - bi man and damn proud of it!! - his husband is well aware of his zombie-ness and doesn't mind in the slightest. it's caused some turmoil a couple times sure, but that's a given. otherwise they're happily married - he has one thing above everyone else and it's the fact he's infected someone unknowingly. he doesn't know who they are but he has this weird feeling that it'll come back to bite him in the ass one day

[7r0773r]

The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño, translated by Natasha Wimmer

Mrs. Nodier said all poets were bums but they weren't bad in bed. Especially if they don't have any money, she went on. (p. 91)

***

And it did me no good to think of my father shut up in the asylum, suicidally depressed, or my mother brandishing the threat or refrain of the police like a UNAM cheerleader (which she actually had been in her student days, poor Mom), because suddenly I began to wither too, to fall apart, to think (or rather repeat to myself, like a tom-tom) that nothing had any meaning, that I could sit at that table at Café Quito until the end of the world (when I was in high school we had a teacher who claimed to know exactly what he would do if World War III broke out: go back to his hometown, because nothing ever happened there, probably a joke, I don't know, but in a way he was right, when the whole civilized world disappears Mexico will keep existing, when the planet vaporizes or disintegrates, Mexico will still be Mexico) or until Ulises, Arturo, and the stranger in white got up and left. (pp. 171-72)

***

He was a strange person. He wrote in the margins of books. I'm glad I never lent him any of mine. Why? Because I don't like people to write in my books. You won't believe this, but he used to shower with a book. I swear. He read in the shower. How do I know? Easy. Almost all his books were wet. At first I thought it was the rain. Ulises was a big walker. He hardly ever took the metro. He walked back and forth across Paris and when it rained he got soaked because he never stopped to wait for it to clear up. So his books, at least the ones he read most often, were always a little warped, sort of stiff, and I thought it was from the rain. But one day I noticed that he went into the bathroom with a dry book and when he came out the book was wet. That day my curiosity got the better of me. I went up to him and pulled the book away from him. Not only was the cover wet, some of the pages were too, and so were the notes in the margins, some maybe even written under the spray, the water making the ink run, and then I said, for God's sake, I can't believe it, you read in the shower! have you gone crazy? and he said he couldn't help it but at least he only read poetry (and I didn't understand why he said he only read poetry, not at the time, but now I do: he meant that he only read two or three pages, not a whole book), and then I started to laugh, I threw myself on the sofa, writhing in laughter, and he started to laugh too, both of us laughed for I don't know how long. (pp. 218-19)

***

They're poets, I argued. The math teacher looked me in the eyes and repeated the word poet several times. Lazy slobs is what they are, he said, and bad parents. Who goes out to eat and leaves their child alone at home? (p. 297)

***

Then, humbled and confused and in a burst of utter Mexicanness, I knew that we were ruled by fate and that we would all drown in the storm, and I knew that only the cleverest, myself certainly not included, would stay afloat much longer. (p. 360)

***

Then Norman laughed again and said: Ulises was crying because he knew that nothing was over, because he knew he would have to come back to Israel again. The eternal return? Fuck the eternal return! Here and now! But Claudia doesn't live in Israel anymore, I said. Wherever Claudia lives is Israel, said Norman, no matter what fucking place it is, call it whatever you want, Mexico, Israel, France, the United States, planet Earth. Let me see if I understand you, I said, Ulises knew that things were going to end between you and Claudia? And then he could try again? You haven't understood anything! said Norman. I have nothing to do with any of this. Claudia has nothing to do with it. Sometimes even that bastard Ulises has nothing to do with it. The tears are all that count. I guess you're right, I don't understand you, I said. (pp. 428-29)

[ylimehuizenga]

Finished the Roth bio!

Roth’s Life in Three Acts: 

1. 

"On Saturday evenings the men would sometimes take their sons to the Russian shvitz bath on Mercer Street... The shvitz was a “haven,” then, from the orderly world of work and wives—a place to sit around amid a “concerto of farts” and tell bawdy jokes, all but oblivious to the variety of bellies and tuchases and balls hanging out. A generation before, Herman had gone with his father for the foremost purpose of cleanliness, since there was only an outhouse and no hot water at home, but nowadays it was all splendid animal indulgence—a steam bath, a good beating with oak leaves to get the blood running, a massage with wintergreen oil, a communal nap. One of the “boys” in Herman’s circle was a butcher who brought steaks and chops to be cooked in the bath’s kitchen and served with big platters of mashed potatoes and onions, all of it washed down with a gallon of Chianti. Around midnight, sated and braced for another hardworking week, the men dispersed.” 

2. 

“Every Thursday Roth and Sproul would drive up from the city in Roth’s new LTD (a Portnoy purchase), stopping for dinner at the Skyline Restaurant, about a half hour from Woodstock, where Roth ordered the shrimp cocktail, medium-rare steak, baked potato with sour cream and chives, and a chocolate sundae (“heaven”). Each morning Sproul would adjourn to her own cabin on the other side of town and work until midafternoon, then return to Broadview where she could hear Roth typing and talking to himself in the upstairs guest room. Around four o‘clock they’d take a walk along the back roads of Byrdcliffe Mountain, and later, in the big living room with its majestic fireplace, Roth would often read aloud the page or two he’d written that day—not for comment, but to hear how it sounded.” 

3. 

“Every day was pretty much the same. At ten o’clock he took a taxi to the St. Bart’s pool, where he’d go through his aqua-jogging routine. His trainer, Luye Lui, adored him and vice versa: she called him Nails because he showed up even when “he could barely drag his walker,” and he called her Slum Goddess of the Lower East Side (where she was born) after the Fugs song. Roth was home again for lunch, after which he’d strip down to his underwear and nap for an hour or so (“Take your clothes off and sleep in your underwear,” his father had advised him. “You’ll go to sleep much faster and have a deeper sleep”), then he’d resume poring over old files and writing little commentaries for his biographer—a task that kept him occupied until the end of 2013. Next he began examining hundreds of personal photographs with a magnifying glass and carefully labeling one after another—“an amazing trek backwards through all the many years of my life,” he said, delighted to be looking one more time “at the faces of people who meant the world to me and were the world to me.” 

💥Bonus💥 Quotes I Liked: 

“Perhaps the closest Roth and his friends came to sex were necking parties in Heyman’s finished basement—“the most beautiful word in the English language,” as Roth liked to say (he also insisted it was one word: “finishedbasement”).

“Saturdays in spring were given over to softball games between the poetry and prose writers.”

“Roth sat in the corner of the bedroom, calmly taking it in; a two-word phrase he sometimes liked to tell himself (“when confronted by great surprises of an unhappy nature”) seemed to apply: “This, too.”

(a former student on Roth as a literature professor) “Imagine taking physics from Einstein. But you want to be Mrs. Einstein.”

“Everything is the same, except more so,” Roth reported to her. “Alas.”

(Roth on budding trees in springtime) “It’s like living in the company of seven thousand eleven-year-old girls.”

“Besides, one of [Roth’s] fondest jeremiads over the years was about the inevitable decline of “people who read serious books seriously and consistently”—Roth readers, in short.” 

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No. 

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

~

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

~

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

********************

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.” 

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*********************

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

******************

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

[hologramcowboy]

Part of the reason that Jensen’s voiceover sounds so bad in TW trailer is poor production quality. The audio is too loud, the sound quality itself poor (like recording yourself on your phone vs professional sound booth) and it seems out of sync with the visuals.

You have to remember that this project is obviously poorly funded. The prequel was leaked last June in an attempt to get investors, and that very clearly failed. I imagine they’re just working with the funding that the CW gave them, which isn’t going to be a ton because they’re in the middle of being bought out. Signs that the budget just isn’t there:

Actors with few to no credits to their name that can be paid less because they don’t have the backing to demand higher pay, are afraid to negotiate for it or simply don’t know any better yet and think they’re getting a good deal. And look at who is working behind the scenes- all CW affiliated workers who were announced as attached to the project very late in the game. The CW pretty much reuses the same producers, directors, costume designers etc for everything, so it’s pretty weird that it took so long to get people for the project. My guess is that they were having a hard time finding people who wanted to work on it. And it shows, the wardrobe department didn’t even try.

The stunts and special effects seen in the trailer (where the Ackles were meant to showcase the best parts of the pilot) were poorly done and outdated. Even by TV standards. The prequel is on par with the 2010 Twilight parody “Vampires Suck” quality wise.

The quality of the filming itself looks cheap. Jensen has talked a lot about the cinematography for The Winchesters, what lens they’ve used and how they wanted it to be lit different to distinguish it from Supernatural and the present day. I guess he forgot that later seasons Supernatural were all filmed in that same blue tone he used for the prequel, and that nothing about the lighting screams vintage. It actually looks like several other shows on the CW currently, so it’s more likely he’s just using equipment borrowed from Nancy Drew and passing it off as an artistic choice rather than a necessity.

The music used in the trailer. For a show that’s supposed to embody the 70s with the protagonists getting together over their mutual love for rock and roll, there sure was a lack of rock and roll or even any music from the 70s. Why? Because that music is very expensive. That’s why the music from the trailer sounds like the CW bought the rights for it back in 2008 for One Tree Hill, forgot to use it, so it ended up being used for The Winchesters. I’m surprised that Jensen didn’t use music from Radio Company, but I’m sure that will come. He’s used it on Supernatural and the episode of Walker he directed, there’s no way he’s not going to use it on a show he produces.

Beyond the budget which at this point is fixed (Upfronts are for advertisers, producers already had their chance to appeal for funding either from the network or outside investors) the bringing on of a new producer is not a good sign. Especially because it’s McG who is known for and has gone on record saying that he only comes on projects to clean them up/save them. Jensen’s comments about sitting in his car, producing being boring because your only job is to put out fires, come off even worse now. It’s obvious that Jensen had no clue what went into being a producer, he was used to it being a vanity credit that actors get so that they get a higher pay without technically getting a raise. And that’s really bitten him. The producer is in charge of getting funding (Jensen’s first failure), getting the project rolling (finding casting directors, being involved in the final stages of casting, finding writers and going over scripts etc) and sticking around while the project is being filmed to ensure that things not only go smoothly, but in the direction you want them to.

It’s very telling that a project descended from an established, money making IP wasn’t given a good budget and doesn’t have any care being put into it. The CW and the Ackles thought that the Supernatural association and Jensen would be enough to bring in the audience, and now they’re scrambling because they’ve been proven wrong.

I'm in awe of this post. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 Beautifully expressed, grounded in reality, full of detail and I could have never explained all of that so clearly and effectively. Thank you, Anon.