#peach-pops-ships

[cult-of-husbandos]

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

[pianokantzart]

Just a fun question that popped into my head while I was reading some fics the other day exploring this idea. What do you think would've happened if Mario and Luigi switched places in the Mario Movie, where Mario ended up in the Darklands instead of Luigi, and Luigi ended up in the Mushroom Kingdom instead of Mario?

Okay, so let me start by establishing that the main focus of The Super Mario Bros. Movie was Mario, who, through his desperation to save his brother, carved out a role for himself in this strange new world and learned to embrace character traits that had been marked as flaws during his life in Brooklyn, specifically his reckless fearlessness and inability to back down in the face of impossible situations.

Luigi had his own mini-arc, but it definitely took a back seat to Mario’s journey. Luigi was helpless and terrified throughout most of the film, but at the very last second he worked up enough courage to throw himself in harms way for the person he cared about most in the world.

There are signs that the writers planned for Luigi to have more of an active role in the adventure, but it looks like those plot points were cut for time. But while I will always be the first person to complain about the movie’s lack of Luigi, I can’t deny that him going straight from “constantly frightened and unable to act without his brother taking the lead” to “taking initiative and breaking fellow prisoners out of jail” would be a little rushed, especially if they attempt to squeeze it into a 90 minute runtime.

I feel like that kind of character development is best placed as the main focus of a film, be it in a more Luigi-focused sequel, or a Luigi’s Mansion Movie further down the line (fingers crossed.)

With all that said, I think that a story where Mario and Luigi swapped places would have a similar angle.

Luigi would be helpless and frightened throughout most of the film, mostly just following Toad and Princess Peach around because he doesn’t know what else to do. It would be less like Mario’s “you are going to help me find my brother and I am not backing down until you agree,” and more of a “please please please I promise I’ll stay out of your way but I need to know my brother is alright and I have nowhere else to go please please please please” until Princess Peach finally relents.

Over the course of the journey, Luigi talks about Mario so much that Princess Peach gains a quiet admiration of the guy by description alone.

Meanwhile, Mario’s side of the adventure is more involved and action-heavy. He breaks out of captivity pretty shortly after the Shy Guys bring him aboard Bowser’s ship, and as soon as he learns that Bowser is planning on hurting his little brother for the simple crime of being in close-proximity with a princess, his primary goal becomes that of bringing down the koopa’s entire world-conquering operation from the inside. Bowser’s initial focus is on Luigi, but as he finds out that there’s another mustachioed human running around inside his fortress walls, wrecking control panels, stealing powerups, and rerouting his plumbing, he quickly learns who his real enemy is.

The movie’s climax is similar to that of the original, but this time Luigi and Donkey Kong are captured with the rest to be sacrificed as part of Peach’s forced wedding. Mario comes out of hiding to crash the ceremony and save his brother, and Bowser finally gets to lay eyes on the guy who has been wrecking his shit from the sidelines for the past three days.

[sissylittlefeather]

Kink Madness: Round 5

Food Play vs Temperature Play

This one is scorching hot. Hold on to your butts 😂

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, obviously sensory play, also Elvis is a bit sad in one and the other one is straight porn

Food Play: Army Elvis

Elvis has been moping around for over a week now. You don't mind it at all; he has been through an awful lot lately with losing his mama and being shipped off to Germany. And his emotional complexity is one of the reasons you love him. But still, it hurts to see him so sad. You wrack your brain for something to do to cheer him up.

You've been seeing each other for a few weeks now and you are infinitely grateful that your father made you learn English. Otherwise, there would be a language barrier between you and he might not have even noticed you. Hell, you wouldn't have even been in that press conference where you met. You've got a pretty thick accent and sometimes you use German words when you can't find the right English one, but he's drawn to you nonetheless. In truth, you're his favorite thing about being overseas. So, despite his melancholy, he's happy to knock on the door of your apartment one Friday evening.

“Hey, honey, it's me.” You try your best to wipe the flour off of you and go to open the door.

“Hi, Elvis!” You hold it so that he can walk inside, but he looks you up and down first, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“You're covered in flour. What you been up to, doll?” He kisses your cheek and then moves into the apartment. As he makes his way in, he's hit by a smell that immediately transports him back to some familiar memory. “What is that?”

You try again to brush some of the flour off of your hands and run back into the kitchen. He follows you curiously.

“I made something for you.” You gesture to the dish cooling on the countertop. It's a bit of a mess, sticky and warm, but it looks okay considering it's your first time making it.

“Is that–? Honey, did you make me a cobbler?” You nod excitedly, thrilled that he could recognize it. “Peach! The cookbook said it was a southern dessert.”

He looks at you incredulously, his eyes a little shiny. “You found an American cookbook?”

“Ja! It was in a little shop a few streets over. I know you've been homesick, so I wanted to make something to remind you of home. Is it okay?” He grins and then grabs you, picking you up and spinning you around the tiny kitchen.

“Is it okay?! Honey, it's amazing!” He sets your feet back on the ground and then cradles your cheek in his big palm. “You did this just for me?”

You look up at him and nod. “Mhmm.”

“You're somethin’ else, doll. Thank you.” He leans forward and kisses your lips softly. Up until now, he hadn't thought of this as more than just a fling to pass the time while he's here, but this, this is a girlfriend gesture and it's not lost on him. “Can we try it?”

“Jawohl!” He settles at the table while you grab a small plate and something to serve with. You scoop out a piece for him and set it in front of him, sitting down next to him. He smiles at you again and shakes his head as he takes a bite. When he gets it to his mouth, he moans and closes his eyes. “Is good, ja?”

“Honey, it's incredible. I swear this is the same recipe my mama used to make.” He eats the whole serving, making small grunts and moans of pleasure as he does. By the end of it, his laughter is contagious and he looks like a little kid on his birthday. “Can I have more?”

“I made it for you. You can have it all!” You serve him another piece, but this time you accidentally stick your thumb in the syrup. Before you can wipe it on your apron, he grabs your hand and pops it in his mouth, sucking lightly. You gasp a little with the sensation of his mouth on you. He's kissed you a lot and touched you a few times, but you haven't slept together. And this gesture feels deeply intimate.

“Elvis…” He turns your hand over and kisses your palm.

“You don't want any cobbler?” He murmurs against your hand.

“I-I-I made it for you…”

“And I can eat it how I want?” There's a glint of mischief in his eyes that shoots straight to your core like a lightning bolt.

“I suppose…” You watch as he dips his finger in the sticky peach syrup and then drags a line of it down the inside of your forearm. Then, he licks the line of sweetness from your skin and you whimper.

“Mmm. You might taste better than the peaches, honey. Can I have more of you?” You nod and he pulls you into his lap. This isn't your first time with a man, but this is him and you tremble a little with anticipation as he captures your lips in a deep kiss. The sugar from the cobbler is on his tongue and he tastes even better than usual.

You're not quite sure how it happens, but in minutes he has you stripped down and laid out on the dining table for him, the dish of cobbler next to you. He dips the tip of his middle finger in the stickiness and then rubs it on one of your nipples. It's warm, but not as warm as his mouth as he leans forward and licks you clean. He does it again with the other side and you arch your back and moan.

“Taste so good, baby.” He gets more of the syrup and drags it across your belly, quickly licking it from you again. The sensation of his tongue on your body has you dripping wet with the thought of it in other places. But he doesn't stop. He keeps sweeping syrup across your skin and licking it off, moving around your body until you have goosebumps and your nipples are so hard they almost hurt. “God, look at you. You're so damn beautiful like this. I could just eat you up. In fact, I think I will.”

He picks up the spoon from his plate and fills it with the sticky sweetness, dribbling it on your inner thigh. When he leans in to lick it off, he's so close to your center that your pussy clenches around nothing. “Oh God, Elvis…”

Then, he does the same thing on the other side, his tongue making languid circles on your skin. “I bet you're sweeter than this pie, baby. You want me to find out?”

You nod frantically and spread your legs a little wider, giving him a delicious view of your glistening slit. “Goddamn, doll. That's pretty.”

And then he leans forward and pushes his tongue in as deep as it'll go, his nose pressed against your clit. You bite your fist as he groans into you, pulling back a little to lick around your hardened bud. “I was right.”

“Don't stop!” He chuckles and gives you a small salute.

“Yes ma'am.” And then he dives back in, licking and sucking you with his whole mouth. He devours you like a man starved and it feels so good you could die. You feel the walls of your orgasm closing in and your legs start to shake. “Good girl. Cum for me. Let me have all that sweetness.”

“Oh fuck, Elvis!” You grab the front of his hair and grind your hips into his face as the waves crest and break inside you, your pussy contracting on his tongue. He keeps licking you all the way until you're so sensitive that you start to giggle. His lips and chin are shiny when he stands up and looks down at you all limp and fucked out on the table.

His cock is aching where it presses against his uniform pants and he rubs it gingerly through them. You notice what he's doing and meet his eyes. “Yes. Please.”

That's all it takes for him to quickly unzip his pants, pull out his throbbing dick, settle your ankles on his shoulders, and then sink into you. Your eyes cross with being filled so well and he groans deeply. “Fuck, honey, that's so good.”

He pulls back and then rolls forward again and again, fucking you deep and slow. The head of his cock bumps up against your g-spot with each thrust and you feel another orgasm gather in your belly. He starts to move a little faster, slamming into you with more intensity. Your second climax hits you like a freight train and you pulse around him. “I'm gonna cum, doll. Oh god. Fuck!”

He pulls out of you at the last second and pumps his release out onto your belly. When he finishes, he stumbles backwards into a chair and you lay on the table trying to get your bearings back. He sighs deeply and you sit up a little to look at him.

“Honey, that was the best damn cobbler I've ever had.”

“Me too.”

“You didn't eat any of it.” He laughs.

“Didn't need to.”

“Can I stay?” You look at him and his expression changes. It's not quite sadness, but it's deeper than the mirth from a few seconds before.

“Of course. Why?” He's never stayed with you before.

“I just need a little home tonight and you, well, you feel like home now, honey.” He stands up and pulls you into his arms, kissing the top of your head.

“Then you can stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you, baby.”

******

Temperature Play: TTWII Elvis

Elvis walks into the cool suite after rehearsal with his silk shirt stuck to his back from sweat. It's August in the desert and hot is an understatement. He looks around the room for you, but you're nowhere to be found. Finally, he finds you on the patio laid out on a lounge chair, skin slick with sweat as you sit in your bikini trying to get a tan. Before he walks to you, though, he grabs a bucket, fills it with ice, and plops a bottle of champagne in it, holding two glasses with his other hand. He doesn't normally drink, but today was good and he wants to celebrate.

“It's a million degrees out here, honey. You tryin’ to cook yourself?” You startle a bit at the sound of his voice and cover your eyes to look up at him.

“You know I like to be tan. It is hot though. Almost too hot.”

“Wanna cool off?” He holds up the bucket and the champagne glasses before settling next to you on the chair.

“Oooh yes, please!” You hold out your hand for a glass and he sets the other one on the table with the ice bucket. He pops the bottle open and then lifts it over to you to fill your glass, but it drips icy water onto your stomach and you gasp. “Oh shit, that's cold!”

He laughs and finishes filling your glass. You take a sip and he eyes you from behind his sunglasses. “Just how hot are you, doll?”

“Pretty damn hot, Elvis. Why?” The corners of his lips curl up into a wicked smile and he takes your champagne glass, setting it on the table next to his. He dips his hand into the ice bucket and pulls out a small cube. “I know you don't think you're gonna–”

Before you can finish the sentence, he starts to slide the ice around on your chest, pulling your top out of the way to drag it around your nipple. You gasp again, “fuck, that is cold!”

“Oh, I'm sorry, baby.” He leans forward and warms your icy bud with his tongue. But he doesn't stop with the ice cube. He keeps sliding it around on your skin, heating you back up with his mouth afterwards. You whimper and gasp and moan as he works your body, moving further and further down towards your center. The cube has melted fully, so he uses both hands to slide your bottoms off.

“What are you up to now?”

“You trust me?”

“Always.” He smiles and fishes out another piece of ice, this time slipping it into his mouth. Then, he presses his lips to your thighs, the cold sensation making you shiver as he approaches your slit. You arch into him when he finally makes it there, dragging his cold tongue up and down.

And then he does the unthinkable. He pushes the piece of ice, now small and soft, up into you with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, Elvis!” Your pussy clenches around the cube and the feeling of it threatens to overwhelm you.

“Hold it in there ‘til I make you cum.”

“Jesus. Fuck.” Your knuckles go white as you grip the edges of the lounge chair while he dives into you, licking and sucking on your clit. You can feel the ice slowly melting and it's like he's teasing you from the inside out. You whimper and moan as he eats you, moving his tongue in slow, lazy circles over your hardened bud. “Mmmm it's too much!”

“No it's not, baby. Just cum for me.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God…” He licks hard and fast over you now, desperate to push you over the edge. “Fuck!”

When your orgasm crashes into you, it feels like the ice runs in your veins out to your extremities and back again and it feels so good you almost scream. He pushes a finger inside you to make sure the ice is melted and groans.

“Get on top.” You quickly rearrange so that he's sitting in the chair and then unzip his pants. His cock springs free, hard and aching, and you don't hesitate to line up and sink down onto him. “Goddamn baby, your pussy is cold.”

“I told you!”

“Fuck, but she's squeezing me so good.” He growls into your neck as he grabs your hips and starts to move you up and down on his dick. You reach back and grab an ice cube and hold it to your lips. Then, you lean forward and press your lips to the skin just below his ear. He gasps a little and starts to move you even faster on his lap. You pop the ice cube into your mouth and kiss him deep and he groans. The desert sun on your skin is the perfect contrast for where you're icy cold and the sensation of both at once pushes you to the edge of another orgasm. He rips the straps of your bikini down and presses his cold lips to your breasts again, murmuring against your nipple, “Cum with me, honey.”

You roll your hips against him hard and he reaches down to rub your clit while you ride him. It's just enough to drive you into your release and you moan loudly as your body shudders and pulses around him. He grunts and holds you still, letting your pussy milk his climax from him.

“Fuck, that's good baby.” His breath is still a little cold from the last ice cube as he pants against your skin. You collapse on his chest, shaking and sweating as you both try to steady your heart rates. “You cold?”

“Little bit.” He grins at you mischievously.

“Let's go inside, then. I've got a warm bath and some hot wax candles with your name on them.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Honey, do I look like a man who would joke about a thing like that?” You move to stand up off of him and he grabs you and holds you tighter, whispering in your ear. “You know I'll always give you what you need.”

“You really, really do.”

*******

Taglist:

@ccab @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy @angelriley222 @iloveelvis2 @epletsplayhouse

[alumi-san]

After seeing Japanese ship names for Hetalia, I decided to do research and find one for Danganronpa. (I'll add more)

Akane x Chiaki - Warrior's Heart

Aoi x Kyoko - California Girls

Aoi x Sakura - Donut Protein

Celeste x Gonta - Goth Bugs

Chiaki x Nagito - Claw Machine

Chihiro x Byakuya - Bitcoin

Chihiro x Kiyotaka - Ultimate Justice

Chihiro x Mondo - Electric Motor

Fuyuhiko x Hajime - Baby Tie

Fuyuhiko x Peko - Loyal Blade

Hajime x Chiaki - Steady Player

Hajime x Fuyuhiko x Kazuichi - Neapolitan Ice Cream

Hajime x Kazuichi - Fanta

Hajime x Mahiru - Vintage Photos

Hajime x Mikan - Splinter

Himiko x Angie - Magical art

Himiko x Angie x Tenko - Traffic Lights

Himiko x Tenko - Witchcraft

Izuru x Nagito - Despair and Hope

Kaede x Miu - Golden Gal

Kaede x Rantaro - Musical Chairs

Kaede x Tsumugi - Masquerade

Kaito x Kokichi - Star Trikster

Kaito x Shuichi - Cosmic Detective

Kazuichi x Gundam - Mecha Magic

Kiibo x Kaito - Cyberspace

Kiibo x Kokichi - Cyberbullying

Kiibo x Miu - Cyber-Sex

Kiyotaka x Mondo - Justice Ride

Kokichi x Gonta - Monarch Butterfly

Kokichi x Himiko - Black Magic

Kokichi x Shuichi - Lie Detector

Kyoko x Sayaka - Silent Blade

Mahiru x Hiyoko - Photobomb

Mahiru x Ibuki - Photo Album

Maki x Kaede - Death Note

Maki x Kaito - Shooting Stars

Makoto x Byakuya - Lucky Lottery

Makoto x Byakuya x Kyoko - Detective Trio

Makoto x Chihiro - Lucky Hack

Makoto x Kyoko - Hopefull Truth

Makoto x Leon - Lucky Strike

Makoto x Mukuro - Lucky Shot

Makoto x Sayaka - Lucky Star

Mikan x Ibuki - Silent Thunder

Mikan x Nagito - Injected Hope

Miu x Kaito - Inventive Luck

Mondo x Mikan - Biking Kit

Mukuro x Sayaka - Power Ballad

Nagito x Hajime - Hopefull Heart

Nagito x Makoto - Jackpot

Ruruka x Izayoi - Sweets and Daggers

Sayaka x Leon - Pop-Rocks

Shuichi x Kaede - Detective Music

Shuichi x Kiibo - Hope Circuit

Sonia x Chiaki - Princess Peach

Sonia x Gundam - Royal Gamble

Sonia x Kazuichi - Royale Metal

Teruteru x Kazuichi - Baking Soda

Toko x Byakuya - Ultimate Legacy

[dangermousie]

Hello! I hope you are doing well. Lately I have only been interested in watching xianxia. And the recent ones like The Blossoming Love, Love of the Divine Tree and A Moment but Forever have really been doing it for me. Would you have some recommendations similar to these?

Awww, thank you! I am not sure which ones you've watched, but here are some of my faves:

Love and Redemption - everyone loves this one and with good reason. It has a strong FL and beautiful ML, multiple lifetimes of devotion, intricate world building, interesting themes, awesome secondaries, f u to fate, and it's just a great ride.

Love and Destiny - no relation to L&R but this is a great tale of a god of war accidentally awakened a little early and an immortal of interesting background. It's an age gap romance so mmv but I loved it.

The Legend of Shen Li - it has the same cottage core vibe that Tree has in some of its setting and like Moment features adult protagonists who actually have experience and life and goals and meditates on the meaning of love and living and eternity and divine constrain like TBL. One of my all time faves.

Lost You Forever - it really has such interesting things to say about family and love and damage and living despite it. I think it goes a bit downhill at the end but probably less so for someone who hasn't read the novel and the bulk of it is such a masterpiece.

The Legends - if you like saucy BAMF demoness and her devoted disciple, this one is for you.

The Blue Whisper - it has shades of established world order being evil, loving someone you shouldn't, and all the other good stuff.

Till the End of the Moon - I hesitate to recommend it because it is objectively a hot mess narratively, but it's such a gonzo tale emotionally and visually, that I will still throw that in.

Love Between Fairy and Devil - on the off chance you haven't seen that one, this is my n1 xianxia of all time and perfect in every way, imo.

Fangs of Fortune - I can't really say it's a xianxia (I can't even truly say what genre it is) but it does have gods and demons and rebirths so I think it would at least qualify as adjacent. It also is visually stunning and has such things to say. It was my favorite drama last year (that and JoL2)

Ice Fantasy - visually eye popping, great ensemble cast, ride or die OTP with a tough lady and a good man, this one is less known because it's a bit older but I adore it.

Three Lives Three Worlds Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (also known as Eternal Love) - I think this is THE xianxia for a lot of people, myself included. Starts slow but then grips you and it doesn't let go.

The Last Immortal - this was criminally underrated but it combines a great cast, a lovely love story and a take on what it's like to be left behind.

Novoland Castle In the Sky - more xianxia adjacent than xianxia, this is still ridiculous fun mixing fantasy and steampunk, winged people and flying ships, and Zhang Ruoyun's performance as ML elevates the whole business.

Legend of Heavenly Tear: Phoenix Warriors - and now for something TRULY gonzo - aliens in spaceships meet period China. This is in no way a xianxia but I wanted to throw it out there :P

PS The one xianxia everyone loves except for me is Ashes of Love. I don't hate it or anything but confess to being bored throughout.

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Pops has always smelled like peaches. It was the first thing Marco had noticed about the man, way back when he’d been nothing but a panicked pup stowing away on the wrong ship. The crew had been stupid enough to pick a fight with Whitebeard, and Marco had been cowering behind a stack of barrels, hoping the violence would pass him by, when all of a sudden he’d been scooped up and draped over the shoulder of an absolutely massive pirate, and Marco would have probably passed out from the panic if he hadn’t been so completely thrown off-guard by the rich, thick scent of an Omega.

Marco had still had a pup’s nose at the time, so the scent didn’t really register as much more than sweet and fruity and safety, comfort, I have you now. After his first rut, he’d scaled up Pops’s coat and stuck his face in the man’s neck and marveled at the smell of peaches and cream and strong black tea, caramel and cloves. He’d immediately gotten scent-drunk off the warm, rich sweetness of the old man’s affection, and the only reason he didn’t tip back and fall right off his shoulder is because Pops reached up in time to catch him.

Omegas are pretty rare on the seas. Not as much as the World Government tries to make them out to be of course, but there is some truth to the stereotypes; if you run into an Omega traveling with a pirate crew, it’s even odds they’re on that ship against their will. Not that that’s any less true with any other type of criminal, of course. Gangsters on land and pirates at sea and nobles in their feasting halls, it’s always the same — bullies go for the easy target, for the weak and the vulnerable, the young and the desperate and the naive. They fall on the feeble like ants to a corpse, and pick you clean.

It had honestly scared Marco at first, how open Whitebeard was about his sex. The man didn’t take scent-blockers. He didn’t bind his chest. When his heats came — and they came like clockwork every three months, because he wasn’t on suppressants either — he’d bundle himself and most of his small crew away into his nest, and yowl shamelessly for food or cuddles or for someone to start up a song. Part of the reason it took so long for Marco to accept that this was a permanent thing, that Whitebeard was keeping him and Marco didn’t need to keep a bag packed and an eye on the exit, was because he was so, so sure the loud, unruly, shameless Omega would be taught a lesson soon enough.

It had scared him, frustrated him. Made him wary. Nobody is allowed to be that free, he’d wanted to explain to Whitebeard, who for some reason just didn’t seem to get it. Nobody is allowed to be that happy with themselves. You’re too loud. You’re too proud. You’re too comfortable in your own skin. It doesn’t matter that you’re big and strong, they’ll kill you.

They’ll kill you, and I’ll be on my own again.

Eventually, somewhere between the second and the twentieth would-be challenger Whitebeard wiped the floor with, Marco started to realize that the man was more than big and strong, he was powerful. Powerful enough, maybe, to be loud. Powerful enough to be free, without worrying that someone would cage him for it. Marco watched the man who called him son conquer impossible challenges and defeat unbeatable enemies like it was easy, and somewhere along the line he forgot to hold onto his fear. Marco stopped sleeping with his shoes on, he unpacked that bag he’d been hiding in his locker, and then one day when the sun was high and the waters calm and Pop’s scent was syrupy-sweet with happiness, Marco had said “Pops-yoi? Would you bond me?”

And Whitebeard had. It was a little awkward — his fangs are long enough to puncture clear through Marco’s throat — but Whitebeard had been so, so careful, piercing the scent gland in Marco’s neck with the tip of one fang and injecting the venom deep into his blood stream. Then, to Marco’s stunned disbelief, Pops had picked him up and draped him over his shoulder and asked for a bite of his own.

That’s how it starts. An Omega with no pack and a boy with no parents and the peach-sweet summer scent now sunk into the both of them, on a rickety ship that won’t survive the year and with a handful of scavenged crew-mates that will either leave or choose to stay forever before that year is up. Those that choose to stay practically line up when they see the bond wounds on Marco and Pops, clambering for a chance to bite and be bitten. By the time they’re in Water 7 buying a used ship (it will be years still before the Moby is commissioned) Marco is a part of something he can’t remember ever being a part of before.

A pack.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Onstage

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

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

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

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots

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

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

“Goodness. You two slept together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That ship has sailed, Carol!

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

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

“How late did you guys stay up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait. Really?”

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

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

“Sure can.”

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

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

“What the h—”

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Heck no.”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heya.”

“Morning, Shane.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine.

You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.

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

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

Huh, cool, your breathing feels a little better, too.

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

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

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

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

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

Glenn.

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

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

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

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

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

Ew, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.

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

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

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

And you’re right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shakes her head.

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

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

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

They're sharing...all of those?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him

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

“I can’t hunt?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

Dude, you had a panic attack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back to the moment, you next worried that what if he and Andrea got a little too close, did something foolish, and she ended up pregnant, too.

Not that Lori’s baby is Shane’s, the baby is Rick’s regardless, but...

The tight feeling returned in your chest.

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

“Mmhm, all dressed up for the ‘show.’” The nausea was back, plus a fun new notion of being observed, as if everyone and anyone, seen or unseen, was staring you down.

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

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

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

The air felt too…thin? And then you noticed Lori examining the torso of one of the shirts in the bag as if testing it for stretchiness or room. You could see the shadows clouding her face right before she abruptly put the shirt down.

Then, there was Carol, holding up something that had clearly must have been Beth’s a few years ago, and it looked as if it would fit Sophia perfectly now.

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

“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.

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

Panting, a numbness started to affect your fingers and spread to your torso and toes. You repeatedly coughed in an effort to break up whatever was making it hard to breathe.

Once you started coughing, it dominoed. Your stitches were tugging at the forceful coughs, and soon, you were hacking. The hacking led to retching, one, two, three times. Tears started to fall.

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

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

One puff. Hold breath in.

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

Another puff. Hold breath in.

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

You tried another dose.

More tears of frustration. You panted to her that you thought your were going to pass out. "F-Feels like m'gonna die," you may have also said.

The phantom sensation of your hand being covered in Amy's blood returned. You recall wiping it with the hem of your dress, and Lori taking your hands, preventing you from continuing to do so.

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

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

Over and over she coached you until things started to ease.

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

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

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

“Were you wheezing?”

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

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

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

“Was it about Maggie?”

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

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

That's ridiculous! was your initial reaction, which is why, at first, you protested. “Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic.”

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

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

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

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

So what did you do?

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

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

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

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

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

“When he had what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, b-but—”

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

“But wh—”

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

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

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

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

Him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Phew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Closer. Great.

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

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

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

“Huh?” What’d she mean?

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

…

...

…they what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want some more coffee, too?”

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

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

You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s gotta, it’s the setup.

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

The joke does the trick. Andrea smiles and relaxes.

“I’m so sorry. I feel like shit,” she starts to go on, but he puts a stop to it.

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

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

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

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

“What appeal?”

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

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

“And he was funny!” she goes on.

You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”

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

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

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

So now, your job = keep chill.

“Are you helping with target practice later?”

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

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

“Is everything okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Book?? To Daryl? But the concussion! “A book?”

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

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

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

“Oh shit.”

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

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

Him

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

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

“Hiya, Daryl.”

It takes him a second. “Hey.” He ain't never seen her in a dress.

And with that little bird, he gets the image in his head of her bursting into song and the farm animals and forest critters doing a musical number with her.

He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...

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

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

“It's a chick.”

Clearly. “Why?”

“It’s cute.”

She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”

“Yeah, it's adorable!”

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

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

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

The chick quiets down, appearing to relax in his hand. His hand must be good and warm for it.

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

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

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

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

“I wear this, like, all the time.”

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

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

“’Kay.”

Y/N looks pretty.

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

He’s imagining himself as being back onstage again, forgetting his lines. He can make something up on the spot: “How you gonna search in that?”

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

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

“—Dare, you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

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

“M’fine, I just spaced out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you point your toes three times?”

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

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

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

“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

Yet another stage performance today. You had to act like you weren’t distracted by how boyishly charming Daryl looked lounging there with his shirt unbuttoned to his hecking waist, good Moses. But like, the way he snuggled the chick, and how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? It was an accident! Ohh, but how he'd noticed your panicking so was all soothing and stuff...

Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.

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

Oh, and that little jab at his new pillowcase, aw yes, that was top tier friendzoning!

Or — oh, it wasn’t interpreted as flirting, right? No way did you intend that! And, hold up, there's no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.

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

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

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

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[sanjifucker42069]

Peaches

Sanji keeps finding you sneaking food. Just what are you hiding?

Note; girl, rats are cute, and Sanji’s association with rats melts my heart 🥺🥺🥺

Word count: 1416

The third time Sanji caught you sneaking food out of the larder is when he grew suspicious.

"Do I not feed you enough love?" He interrogated, You jumped, hands holding onto your small bag. It had to be past midnight. You turned to him looking mildly terrified, eyes scanning for an exit plan. Sanji quirked a perfect brow when you didn't respond. "Well?"

Nothing. You drew close the bag in your hands, peeking in one last time. You seemed so skittish tonight. What were you hiding? Sanji didn't have time to consider what before you shot upright, speaking a mile a minute.

"HAHAHA! I'm sorry Sanji, you got me! I was feeling extra peckish tonight HAHAHA!" You slapped at your leg as if he told you the world's funniest joke, before robotically moving to the door. "Well I've had my fill so I'll just be going back to bed. It won't happen again. Good night Sanji."

"Hold it." He ordered. You froze, a visible sweat on your brow. You let out a little whimper. He softened, and with a sigh, motioned to the table. With palpable dejection, you made your way to the table, ready to be scolded. "Love, you know I keep a thorough inventory of our food. Normally I'd think you were giving it to Luffy, but there's hardly any food going missing. So what's going on?"

You twiddled with your thumbs. "I was just a little hungry." You were still avoiding his gaze. Sanji wasn't convinced.

"Love, I'm not going to be mad."

"Yeah you are..." Your voice was soft, trailing off.  Sanji sighed, pulling out a smoke and hurriedly lighting it. He took a long drag to calm himself. Why would you ever think he'd be mad at you? He honestly felt a little heartbroken that you didn't trust him.

"Love-"

Squeak.

You flustered. Sanji narrowed his eyes, blowing out a plume of smoke.

"What was that?"

"My stomach?" You tried, clearly nervous. 

"Try again."

You sighed, bringing the bag up to rest on the table. He saw you fiddle with the drawstring. Upon hearing you hum, he stared, seeing you looking at him through lidded eyes. "Promise not to be mad?" 

Yeah yeah whatever to get you to stop breaking his heart with those puppy eyes, he thought. Instead he said, "I could never be, love."

You undid the drawstring. Opening the bag another squeak rang out, echoing in the silent kitchen. You cringed. For a few seconds nothing happened, and Sanji could feel himself growing antsy. Then, a small grey head popped up, whiskers twitching.

A rat!!?!?! 

"Her name is Peaches." You muttered. Sanji was shocked, staring at the little creature before him. 'Peaches' seemed to stare back at him, holding her dainty paws in front of her as she rose to two feet. Sanji noted the small yellow ribbon adorning her. And, was that a tiny bandage around her ankle?

"Huh." He mused, taking a drag. As he blew another plume of smoke, the rat squeaked. 

"I'm sorry Sanji. I knew you'd be mad if you found out we had rats, but I swear it's only Peaches, I found her on the ship last week. She had a bad ankle. I saw her crawl onto the ship from the docks. Normally I'd put her back but she was hurting and....I just couldn't leave her there to die."

Peaches moved closer to Sanji, staring at him. If Sanji fed into his delusions he could swear the rat was studying him.

"She's clean I promise!" You cringed at how loud you were. Moving to a quieter tone you looked at Peaches. "She had a bath. She's actually really chill."

"So she's why you're sneaking morsels?" 

You nodded. He sighed. Sanji weirdly felt his heart swell. You'd save a little rat on death's door? You were a pirate. Your gentleness always stood out to him, but the way you pet the little rat, cooing at it had him feel his heart race. You reached out and grabbed his hands. He stared at the gesture, cigarette hanging from his mouth limply. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours, startled at how determined you look. 

"I'm sorry. I'll stop sneaking food. But I won't get rid of Peaches." You shook his hands for emphasis. "I promise she won't come into the kitchen! Just...please don't tell anyone."

"You want her around? Even if I don't?" He asked. You met him with a fiery stare. 

"I'm sorry you feel that way. But yeah... You're dear to me, but this little creature deserves empathy too, and she's not hurting anyone." Peaches squeaked as if to back up your claim. 

Out of all the scenarios, you didn't expect Sanji to give you that soft smile and remove a hand. You watched with bated breath as he instead set his sights on Peaches, holding his hand out. 

Peaches sniffed his hand experimentally. Clearly she judged him to be safe, as she crawled into his hand. Your heart stopped at how soft Sanji looked. He spoke around the cigarette, staring down at the little rat.

"You're too sweet." His eyes flicked up to yours. "It doesn't worry me. So long as she isn't a nuisance in the kitchen, it really doesn't matter to me. It's sweet that you are so dedicated to her." Peaches crawled up Sanji's arm, settling on his shoulder. He gave a lopsided smile. Sanji removed the cigarette from his mouth. "She's cute. Y'know some of the first meals I ever made were for rats." 

You stared at him. "Really?"

He laughed, a faraway look in his eyes. "Yeah, they're cute, and they're not picky eaters...but let's not talk about that" He peeked towards Peaches. "So what's your favourite then, miss?" 

When Sanji looked back at you he was stunned at how wide your smile was, tears in your eyes. "She likes cake, it's not good for her. She does like apples though."

"Apples?" He laughed, disbelief clear in his tone. "Not Peaches?"

You blushed. Sanji felt his heart skip a beat at your blush. "Oh. There was a book I read as a kid, it had a rat named Peaches."

"Hmm, an apple cake then? I'll make you one when you're better Peaches to celebrate, okay?" He reached back over and grabbed your hand. You stared into his eyes, their soft warmth drawing you in. "Love, you're too nice, y'know? I don't know any other pirate who'd cry over a rat." You started to bluster but he shushed you. "It's not a bad thing. You're a good person."

Sanji went to take a drag from his cigarette when he felt tiny hands snatch it from his grasp. He gasped, offended. The two of you watched as the little rat skittered down Sanji's arm, cigarette bitten sideways.

"Peaches!" You scolded. Peaches pointedly avoided you, taking the cigarette back into both hands and stubbing it out. You laughed. "Oh Sanji, I'm so sorry. I guess she doesn't like smoke!"

Sanji joined in, laughing freely. "Guess not. Lucky she's cute. You too." You felt your blush darken. Sanji rose to his feet, giving you a wink. "How 'bout some tea? Maybe something for the little one too, yeah?"

You nodded, heart missing a beat at ‘little one’. Sanji rounded the table, pulling you into a side hug. You felt him place a featherlight kiss on your hair. As quick as it started it stopped, and the man headed to the kitchen. The domesticity was killing you. Peaches gave you a pointed look. You stuck your tongue out at her. 

"Sanji?" You asked quietly. The man hummed in response, placing the kettle on to boil. "Thank you. You're a good man."

Sanji smiled. "You're too kind, love."

You rose to join the man, quickly glueing yourself to his side. Sanji welcomed you in, arm wrapping around your shoulder. You snuggled into his side. The two of you basking in each other. You pulled his tie lightly coaxing him to your level. With a smile, you kissed his cheek gently. Sanii blushed lightly, stunned by your actions. Behind you the kettle whistled. The two of you sharing the same thought:

I could get used to this.

And so the three of you settled in for a late night, an odd storybook tea party: a gentle chef with a hidden past, a sensitive pirate with a heart of gold, and a little rat with a dislike of smoke. 

[satirn]

if Jimmy and Timmy get married, how would the wedding go? Who proposes to the other? how does the proposal go?

this is the best ask ever i forgot how much i love schmaltz <3<3. heres some quick doodles as a bonus <3

as for the wedding and events proceeding, i think its go well! they deserve a little break from the stuff in their life, as a treat /q. Unless something like the syndicate crashes their party (i.. dont think theyd be that evil to do that tbh, i havent really dabbled w them story wise but idk, its a wedding im sure they'd be civil for once..) or some interuniversal threat pops up that needs their immediate action (something like garnet's wedding from su). which tbh would probably inhance the expirence for timmy, hes a straight menace and thinks stuff like that is awesome </3. but anyways

in general relationship stuff timmy may be the more forward one but i think jimmy would be the one to establish the milestones, plus that hes more traditional in my characterization of him. that being said, timmy would totally unintentionally propose or joke about marrying him and jimmy would 100% take him up on that with no hesitation.

now onto wedding stuff bc damn do i have a soft spot for this kinda stuff <3<3

the flowers i chose are forget-me-nots and pink / peachy orange aster flowers with a touch of roses in those same colors as well. i implore you to look up the flower meanings i had fun w em <3

I chose the color peach/a coral (is that what that color is ??) for the wedding because its a combo of timmy's pink and jimmy's redish orange (vermillion ?). i just think combining their colors when it comes to ships is just so so CUTE <3<3<3. this is also why that jimmytimmy painting i did a while back has primarily those colors <3. it didn't fit the theme but timmy wanted them so he gets a green, hot magenta pink, and purple flowers for his suit so his only family that loves him can be there.

this is uhh kinda angst implied but it wouldn't be something i made without a bit of angst <3. timmy's biological family would not be there, his mother would probably call once she heard that he got married but timmy decided to abandon that life and those people for good, and for the better tbh. the rest of the nicktoons unite crew would be there + maybe their plus one ig, but dib instead of zim, or maybe them both (zim wants to look normal so attends these events where its expected u show up yk, and dib follows bc clearly. hehe). cindy would probably arrive and agree to being a bridesmaid to show she isnt homophobic but would probably cry and/or drink in a corner the whole time </3, losing both of her boyfriend prospects at once /j

when they toss the bouquet danny is the one who catches it.. he looks over to manny and they share a flustered look while everyone else cheers <3

this is how id imagine it to go at least, there might be more sketches of this in the future i just gotta clean em up first </3. aaah this post is so long </3. told u i loved this kinda stuff SHHSHUSH !! <3<3<3

[kaylatoonz]

Movie Amy X Super Mario bros movie

Ok, so a while back some fans toyed with the idea of Sonic and Mario having a father-son relationship despite their rivalry. Then other fans take it a bit further having Amy and Mario have a father-daughter relationship instead (which is adorable).

This idea got me thinking, what if movie Amy found her way to movie Mario’s world and grew up there?

I’m gonna keep it at Highlights for this AU cuz I don’t want to take forever to post again.

-The events of the first Mario movie happen similarly to the original just with Amy Joining the adventure with Mario, peach, and toad, and also some additional changes to give Luigi more things to do.

-Growing up Amy becomes more and more frustrated that she can’t contribute as much to her family due to her having to stay hidden. (which led to her sneaking out to help her pops and uncle with that one big job that led to their adventure)

-Mario and Luigi had a custom-made hat made for Amy.

-When Mario and Luigi first found Luigi was more scared and cautious of Amy which he felt silly for once he warmed up to her.

-Trying to keep Amy hidden from their family didn’t last a week.

-Amy warmed her way into the family's hearts except their father… it’s complicated (Mario had many arguments with his dad about Amy).

-Mario and Luigi's dad eventually come around.

-Amy’s first tantrum caused a power outage (not as big as Sonic though) like that scene from Monster Inc.

-Amy is Mario’s little girl (Amy has Mario wrapped around her finger)

-Amy loves her uncle, Luigi, and she admires how brave he is despite his many fears.

-Amy learned most of her cooking/baking skills from Luigi, her grandmother, and later Peach (you can pray Peach’s baking hobby from my cold dead hands! Let movie Peach be feminine dang it!).

-Mario, Luigi, and Amy had some parkour skills before they arrived in the New World (they just never went through crazy obstacles like the ones in the New World).

-Peach was very impressed with Amy and Mario’s skill in training obstacle course though there’s room for improvement. (Some of the more wilder obstacles still catches Mario off guard).

-Peach and Amy bond over how they both grew up in a place they sometimes feel out of place in. Peach was the only human until she met Mario and Amy was the only hedgehog (until she met Sonic).

-Amy ships the heck out of Peach and Mario.

-When Mario meets Sonic they do not get off on the right foot but they act civil for Amy’s sake.

-Luigi ships the heck out of Sonic and Amy.

[ineffable-yaoi]

leaving all my cookie run ships here for you all

- a multi-shipper

kiwi biker x roll cake

kiwi biker x rockstar

rockstar x popping candy

milk x dark choco

shadow milk x pure vanilla

white lily x pure vanilla

rich honey x pure vanilla (this is an oc x canon ship with a mutual of mines oc)

white lily x elder faerie

dark cacao x pure vanilla

fire spirit x knight

fire spirit x pitiya dragon

fire spirit x wind archer

adventurer x knight

royal margarine x wildberry

princess x pisachio

princess x white choco

mint choco x cocoa

gumball x soda

licorice x clover

licorice x red velvet

butter roll x red velvet

herb x sparkling x vampire

affogato x peach blossom

strawberry x mustard

cotton candy x rougefort

cotton candy x pink choco

shine muscat x popcorn

churro x wind archer

lime x orange

lemon x dino-sour

lemon x hero

starfruit x pomegranate

sea fairy x moonlight

espresso x madeleine

espresso x eclair

tea knight x eclair

affogato x black sapphire

silver bell x black sapphire

enjoy chat (also I have more)

[gendachocolate]

Salad Nishikage loves rent free in my head now, thanks anon and thank you Flan

This made me think of a totally different question for you though, but I feel it'd cute and fun! I can't remembers if in your Ship lost were Cookie Run characters, but I think there were (?) so, for your Inazuma favs, if you were to give them a flavor like in Cookie Run Ovenbreak and Cookie Run Kingdom, what would they be?

Mostly asking for the Go ones, but you can mix and match from any season. You can also ignore this one ask because I know it could be long to answer. Also, I think I've popped my head around here enough times to have an anon name, if that's okay

— 🪐 Anon

୨ ︶︶︶︶ ⩋ ˚ ꒰ 🥐 ꒱

╭ .˚ ˗͡˗˗ ˗͡˗˗ ˗͡˗˗ ꣑ 𖹭 ৎ

✦ ꒰ ᥡ᥆ᥙr 𝖿ᥣᥲᥒsᥕᥱr іs . . . ꒱

ა ❝ this is all so cute iswear! i got back playing crob recently this is such a silly case! no problem for everything, let me list my thoughts on my favs from all seasons!!

OG:

Genda Koujirou - Chocolate Orange

Midorikawa Ryuuji - Pear Mousse

Kiyama Hiroto - Apple Pie

Tsunami Jousuke - Tropical Drink

Tachimukai Yuuki - Caramel

Aphrodi - Milk Cake

GO:

Amemiya Taiyou - Tangerine Jam

Yukimura Hyouga - Blueberry Muffin

Nanobana Kinako - Kinako Mochi

Hayami Tsurumasa - Cranberry Jam

Hamano Kaiji - Fresh Tuna

SARU - Banana Cream

Shindou Takuto - Peach Tea

Ibuki Munemasa - Protein Bar

Manabe Jinichirou - Lavender Cake

AreOri:

Nishikage Seiya - Milk Churro

Nosaka Yuuma - Habanero Ice-cream

Haizaki Ryouhei - Bear Pudding

Froy Girikanan - Almond Cake

Ichihoshi Hikaru - Galaxy Cake Pop

Baek Shi-Woo - Spicy Meat

Inamori Asuto - Honey Lemon Soda ❞

╰ ︵︵ ˚ ⊹ ୨ ᵕ ୧ ⊹ ˚ ︵︵ 🍪

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶

[peaches2217]

Peaches' Fancy Fics - A Masterpost

Because Tumblr's a dick and makes navigating the tag itself needlessly difficult! 💗 This will be updated as I post new content, so keep an eye out!

Fics in red - 100+ Note Club!

Mareach

Because I am, if nothing else, predictable.

Traduzione, Per Favore? | Crimson Dreams | A Call from the Balcony | Safety | Regalia | Useless | Hiding | A Princess' Woe | Traduzione Non Necessarie | Early Mornings | The Man in Red | Cake in the Garden | Rescue | First Snow | Scared | Everything's Okay | The Door | Untarnished (Ongoing) | Cuteness Aggression | Bath Night

Luisley

Hey, the green beans need love too!

All the Gold in the World | Sunlight | On (Wo)manhood | Party | Overstimulated

Non- or Partial-Ship

Sometimes I don't hyperfixate exclusively on my OTPs. Who knew?

Freak | Back Home | Summer Rain | Zio | Promise | Guided Brooding | On (Wo)manhood 2

Spicier Selections

Read: NSFW. Spiciness levels may vary.

Popping Cherries | Plateau | Stay | Beautiful | Florals - Peonies | Florals - Roses

[ratsoh-writes]

Some other “family compound” settings the skeletons intentionally (or unintentionally) have:

The brothel is basically one big family unit. Sir intentionally got a bigger home as a lot of his crew likes to rotate staying over for whatever reason. And butler gold pesto Flambe and three other brothel workers live in the same apartment complex for “security” reasons

Peaches and ranchers farm extends across the road as well. On the other side they have Rosemarys pie shop. And they’ve built the little cabin for ram and pitch who are permanent residents. Once baby miller gets a hold of his strength, rancher has plans to build a proper in law suite and get his dad and mom out of their little Goldenvalley city house and back onto the farm:

Cider and barley both live on the brewery’s family complex. There’s eight large farmhouses on the right corner of the wheat fields. Cider and barley share their home with their parents, their fathers brother, his mate and a cousin. The rest of the houses go towards the grandparents, cousins and their families, in-laws and another uncle.

Thistle and yarrow live in a coven. Enough said lmao

Honey used to live in a large neighborhood of all his bunny relatives families. But when Star moved out to be closer to his job, honey followed not wanting his brother to be alone. Now that honey is married and starting his own family with Nicky @vrnicky , star moved back to aunt jeanie and is in the snowtuft family compound again.

Every one knows the crew of captain and hook is basically a makeshift monster family. It consists of all ragtag monster singles or ones who don’t have their own extended families. All of them would have a hard time moving out if they ever found someone with how bonded they are.

Ollivander and Alden live in a newer family home with a couple of their cousins. The older generation lives closer to new hope. They’re rather stuffy so the younger monsters were happy to get some space lol. I don’t think I’ve mentioned them before.

Before the Kay’s @the1920sisntaphasemom and Shelly @genius-shelly all started dragging them in different directions, the mafias all used to live with each other lol.

Pop managed to convince an apartment neighbor to swap units so he could have one next to rhythm and his dad when he settled down with @scienceisfood he paid a whole month of rent to them for this lol. He was determined

The three monsters fisher and Jasper roomate with in seashore were also with them on the same ship before the crash. They just stuck together all this time

[vicsnook]

Wildest Dreams | Bob Floyd x Reader x Jake Seresin

word count: 2701

warnings: break up, SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ , oral, fingering, sex

song pairing: Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

notes: Hi y'all! Hope all is well. I have been on a Hangman kick lately and also with 1989 probably being the next re-recording well this was inspired. Please forgive me for making our sweet Bob not so sweet but I promise we will get sweet Bob back soon. This will have more parts so stay tuned! Please if you don' t mind like and reblog!!! Also thank you for all the likes and reblogs on my previous works, it truly means the world to me.

The breakup was sudden. A string of arguments over phone calls that didn’t last more than 5 minutes were the cause. Bob’s deployment was extended but Nat was shipped back. He was Cobra’s new backseater and with that came new trust issues.

His short or missed phone calls, no texts, and lack of caring came as a surprise. The biggest slap in the face was when he missed your birthday. Everyone at the Hard Deck huddled around the laptop waiting on him to pop up any second yet he never did. That was the night it all was over for you.

You ran out of the Hard Deck trying to hide the tears from the rest of your teammates. Only Jake and Nat knew about the fights and were both surprised at how sweet Bob might have all been an act. You could hear footsteps behind you in the sand as you quickly dried your tears ready to pretend you were fine. 

“I’m okay, I just needed some air,” you said turning around to find Jake headed towards you. “Come on, let's get you out of here,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he guided you to his car. You let the tears fall as he drove you home. Jake was one of the only people you trusted and who knew exactly how you felt.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked as he approached a stop sign in your neighborhood.

“It’s over. I’m going to break it off. Not that there’s anything left either way.” 

“Are you sure, Peach? I know things have been really rocky the past couple of months but maybe talk to him first?” he mumbled as he pulled into the driveway.

“There’s nothing to talk about Jake. He didn’t show. I’m done waiting for him when all he seems to care about is Cobra.” your tone was harsher than you expected but it was true. Bob assured you when he was assigned as Cobra’s backseater that it would be strictly professional. Yet the friendly outings blasted all over her social media and Bob’s exasperation whenever you asked were enough for you to come to the conclusion that your relationship was over. 

Jake followed you to your door knowing you shouldn’t be alone. Usually, you’d try to get him to leave but you were exhausted. He watched quietly as you started putting Bob’s things and gifts in a box. 

Nearly an hour later you were finished. The tears came and went but when you closed the top of the box the heartache seemed to worsen. You turned around and walked over to Jake who stood up and engulfed you in a hug as you started to sob.  “Let it all out, sweetheart. I’m here,” he whispered against your head as you cried.

—

Your phone ringing woke you up and as you reached for it the events of last night came reeling back in. The call ended as you stared at Bob’s face on your screen. 3 missed calls and 1 text. 

Clicking on the text you felt your stomach sink as you read it. “We need to talk and I’m so sorry about last night baby. Love you” you stifled back a sob. It was over. His face popped up again as his call came through. Hesitant you answered it anyway. Better to get it over with now.

“Hello?” he said quietly. 

“Hey” 

“Look Peach, I’m really sorry I missed last night” he sighed. “I’ll make it up to you. Work is just really stressful and-”

But you’d heard that before. He’d make it up to you and things would be fine for a while but it would be just a matter of time til it happened again. Cutting him off you ripped off the bandaid. “Stop, please. Bob, it’s over. I can't do this anymore.” 

“No! Peach talk to me please” he pleaded as you ended the call. 

He tried to call again but you didn’t answer this time. Instead, you headed for the shower not even bothering to take your sleep shirt off as you got in. Sitting on the tub letting the hot water soak you as you sobbed. You wanted to go back into your room and answer the phone but you knew it was better this way. He would’ve never broken up with you so it was up to you to take the hint and end it. 

A knock on your bathroom door startled you. “Peach, is everything okay?” said Jake from the other side. He never did leave last night. You figured he slept on the couch and stayed to check on you. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec,” you shouted back trying to hide the fact that you’d been crying. “Okay, I’ll be in the kitchen.” the uncertainty in his voice told you he knew you were lying.

You threw your clothes into the dryer that was thankfully in the bathroom then wrapped your towel around you and headed to your room to get dressed. Jake shouted breakfast was ready as you clasped your bra. “Coming!” you shouted back, throwing your Navy sweatshirt on.

“Hey stranger, made you some pancakes,” said Jake as he slid the plate in front of you. Chocolate chip, your favorite.

“You didn’t have to do that Jake,” you replied quietly as he shrugged in response. Your appetite was non-existent but you didn’t want to seem ungrateful so you scarfed down one of the pancakes.

“Bob called. He’s been calling me and Nat all morning.” 

“Did you answer?” you swallowed hard. Hoping he didn’t.

“No,  but have you talked to him?”

Staring down at your plate you mumbled back “Yeah. I ended it and hung up on him.” 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” 

Jake pulled you into a hug before you could even reply. Sticking by you the rest of the day as you dropped off Bob’s things at Nat’s and then watching rom-coms with you that only managed to make you cry even more.

—

Bob tried calling the first week. An abundance of texts sat unanswered on your phone too. He even sent you roses which ended up at Nat’s since you didn’t want them but didn’t want to throw them out. But as the 2-month mark neared he finally stopped. According to Nat, he wasn't on Cobra’s social media anymore and he asked her about you every week but it was too late now. 

He said, "Let's get out of this town

Drive out of the city, away from the crowds”

The sound of Jake’s truck in your driveway snapped you out of your thoughts. He’d been there through it all for you. Making you get out of the house and not letting you drown in sorrow. Today he was taking you to a flea market you’d mentioned at work. It was a 2-hour drive and you tried to get him to reconsider but he just said he loved a good road trip and you knew you couldn’t fight him.

The drive-up was uneventful and you couldn’t deny Jake’s playlist was great. Singing along to Jolene as he pulled into the parking lot. “Wow this place is huge,” you mumbled. 

Jake smiled up at you as you walked the booths. His arms holding your new books. You turned around suddenly bumping into Jake when you realized you passed the records booth. He grabbed your waist to prevent you from falling.

He's so tall and handsome as hell

His green eyes were on yours as he towered over you. You couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach as you shook your head to snap yourself out of the trance and then quickly headed toward another booth. 

—

As you and Jake ate that afternoon at a little cafe on the side of the road you couldn't help but stare at his handsome features. A couple of times he made funny faces when he caught you staring and you tried to shake off the feeling you got when he did.

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Walking back to the truck you stopped to take a picture of the sunset. The breeze ruffling your blue sundress. Jake ran ahead of you and opened the truck door for you. Standing in front of him, as he towered over you, your eyes flickered down to his lips.

Red lips and rosy cheeks

“I like your red lipstick,” he whispered. You looked down as your cheeks blushed but his fingers lifted your chin to look up at him. Before you could overthink it you pulled his shirt and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips to his as his hands reached for your waist. The kiss was slow and it felt natural as his tongue tangled up with yours. 

When you finally parted to breathe, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry if I overstepped” you mumbled to him as you turned to get into the truck. “I’m not sorry,” he replied as he rounded the truck and got in.

 Jake grabbed your hand as you got on the highway back to Miramar, a comfortable silence had settled between y’all. Only being interrupted when he pulled into your driveway and you asked if he wanted to come in.

Setting down your books on the coffee table, Jake excused himself to the bathroom. Your mind still reeling from the kiss. Your heart still ached for Bob but you couldn't deny the feelings that had recently come to the surface as you started to hang out more with Jake.

You turned on the tv and put on Game of Thrones which was Jake’s favorite then headed to the kitchen and poured two glasses of red wine. “That for me?”  he asked as he came and grabbed the glass for your hand and quickly pecked your lips. “Yes, I uh also put on Game of Thrones. We can watch something else though if you want.” you rambled as you followed him out of the kitchen and then settled on the couch.

“Nah, this is perfect” he replied as he stretched and placed his arm on your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. Jake was very into the show but you couldn't concentrate on anything other than the fact that he’d kissed you twice today and now it was nearly midnight and he was still here. On the one hand, you didn't want him to leave but you also didnt want whatever was happening to progress quickly and ruin your friendship.  “Hello? Earth to Peach?” he said breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said it's getting late, maybe I should go,” he stared at you waiting on a response. You eyed the wine on the coffee table now empty. Not wanting him to drive home under the influence you responded “You’ve been drinking, it’s okay if you stay.” 

“Peach, I’m okay really. I don't want to overstay my welcome.”

“No, please. Stay.” your lips crashed into his before he could say anything else. The kiss started slow but it turned more passionate as you moved to straddle his lap. His hands were on your ass as your tongues fought for dominance. You pulled away and slowly got up, holding his hand as you guided him toward your room. 

I said, "No one has to know what we do"

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room

“Are you sure about this, Peach?” he mumbled while kissing your neck. You nodded in response as a moan escaped your lips when he pulled your hair. “Use your words, Peach.”

“I’m sure” you whispered as he laid you down on the bed and climbed on top of you. You pulled his shirt up and ran your hands across his abs as he kissed you, only pulling away to take his shirt off. His right hand squeezed your breasts as you desperately kissed him. Your body jolted with every touch. There was no denying being touch starved from Bob’s long deployment might have influenced this to happen so quickly but as he kissed your thighs your mind went blank. 

And his voice is a familiar sound

Nothing lasts forever

But this is getting good now

“Can I eat you out?” Jake mumbled against your thigh. “Yes,” you panted as he slowly took off your underwear and threw it somewhere with the rest of his clothes. He sucks on your clit and your fingers grasp for his hair as your moans fill the room. He pulls away and licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, his green eyes piercing through yours as you moan his name. “You like that, honey?” he says as he thrusts one finger in you and you feel your legs start to shake. 

He adds another finger and hits your g-spot as he sucks on your clit. Your legs tighten around his head as he starts to go faster. Your vision goes white with pleasure as your legs start to shake while you come in his mouth as he continues to finger you through your orgasm. “You taste so good baby” Jake mutters as you start to come down from your high. 

You taste yourself on his lips as he kisses you. He pulls away to take off his jeans as you take off the sundress and chuck it on the floor. Quickly his lips are back on yours as you grab his bulge and he groans in your mouth. Your fingers tug at the waistband of his boxers and as you pull them down you grab his cock. Slowly stroking it as he pulls the boxers all the way off.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Peach?” he asks once more as you kiss his neck. “Yes, Jake” you respond and so he reaches down to his pants on the floor and pulls a condom out of his wallet. He quickly puts it on and as he rubs his cock against your entrance you wrap your legs around him and pull him to you. Moaning his name loudly as he begins to thrust slowly into you.

 “Faster, Jake” you whine as he starts to quicken up the pace. He lowers his right hand down to rub your clit as he thrusts into you. You kiss him desperately as you feel yourself getting close. His left hand squeezing your breast. “I’m close” you moan and that sets something off in Jake and he begins to thrust faster and harder into you.

Screaming his name you feel yourself coming and he comes too as your cunt tightens around his cock. Holding on to you as you both come down from your highs. He slowly pulls out and chucks the condom into your bedside trashcan. Laying beside you he pulls you to his chest as you throw your leg over him. Both of you drifting off to sleep.

— 

You'll see me in hindsight

Tangled up with you all night

Burning it down

Monday rolls around too quickly and Jake has been at your apartment since Saturday night. He leaves early that morning to get to work before you and at work, you both act like nothing happened since you didnt want the team to know. Worried about what they might say.

Jake winks at you as you head for the showers and your mind wanders back to last nights steamy shower with him. You hurry while getting dressed and practically run to your car and when you pull into your street you see the familiar truck in the driveway. As you park next to him he gets out of the truck and rounds your car to open your door. Making you giggle as he throws you over his shoulder.

But before he can walk to your door a car door shuts behind you and when you lift your head to see who it is, it's the one person you were not prepared to see again.

Bob.

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams

(click here to read pt 2)

[averageambivert]

Naked in Manhattan is SUCH a Marylily song, like just-

"New crush, high school love again

The rush of slumber party kissing"

The vibes of this song sync so well with their aesthetic.

"Don't touch, I'll never cross the line" is the most friends to lovers phrase

"So I pushed you down a million times"

I'd say this song is mostly Lily POV because my girl has issues confronting feelings and expressing wants ngl

"I'd love if you knew you were on my mind Constant like cicadas in the summertime"

The frustrating but adorable slow burn it takes them to get together

"Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine Could go to hell, but we'll probably be fine"

The fear of society and their love for each other overpowering it (because life is hard enough as it is for two muggleborn girls :()

"I know you want it, baby, you can have it Oh, I've never done it, let's make it cinematic"

"Touch me, baby (touch me, touch me, touch me, touch me) Touch me, baby (naked in Manhattan)"

These parts could be read as both internally pleading the other to make the first move because both are haunted by all kinds of 'What if..?'s

"Pisces who knew that we were so aligned When I sing that Lana song, it makes you cry Mean Girls, we watch it every night And we both have a crush on Regina George"

This part has 2 pop culture references that fit in any Marylily Mordern AU so easily!! Imagine Mary singing for Lily y'all- Lily Evans is 100% an astrology girlie btw.

"You love peach and ice cream Bedazzled, Chanel rings"

Just Lily noticing all the little things about Mary and falling for every single one of them<33

Now the line that made me immediately associate this song with them:

"An inch away from more than just friends".

Just- can you IMAGINE the amount of time, chemistry, love, and pining it takes to get to this point??? Just a passing glance at your "friend" and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest. Looking in each other's eyes and finding someone who understands you so so much. Hugging and then wishing that the time would stop at that moment for ever. Lingering touches, stolen looks, then pretending it didn't happen because what if it goes wrong? Face inches away from theirs and praying to every single deity that it goes right.

"Hair clips and lip gloss French kiss sitting criss-crossed If I don't try, then it's my loss An inch away from more than just friends"

The slow and steady turn into more than just friends<3

"Won't you fucking touch me? I just want to touch you (naked in Manhattan) I want all of your love (naked in Manhattan) Oh, yeah, oh (naked in Manhattan) Naked in Manhattan"

And this is the endless want that overtakes them both once they finally get together.

In conclusion, this song has all elements that this lovely sapphic ship has, and I read just lovers and then has been stuck in a marylily brainrot for the past 3 days.

I'd like to thank @moutainrusing for encouraging me to fall into this ship weeks ago <3