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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

Note

I'm not even gonna put this as anon like I usually do with requests because I just can't be bothered to- Could you do Daryl making a stressed out reader slow down because she's running herself ragged and needs some downtime? Fluffy all the way.

Reader really is me right now lol

Spa Day | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With the walls needing to be rebuilt, runs needing to be made and crops needing to be planted, it was safe to say that you were at your wit's end. However, things needed to get done, causing you to get overstressed. Luckily Daryl was there to help you slow down and relax.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Mentions of exhaustion.

Word count: 1.6k.

A/n: My migraine finally subsided enough for me to focus on finishing this. This was a really cute idea and I hope I did it justice. I hope you like this! (Forgot to tag you in this 😅 I was so tired when I posted this. @celtic-crossbow)

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The scorching afternoon sun was relentlessly beating down on the people of Alexandria. The inhabitants of the safe zone were restlessly working to fortify the fallen walls to ensure that the community remained impenetrable from the the dead wanting to find their next meals.

However, none of them were working themselves to the bone quite like you were. And Daryl was starting to get fed up with your antics.

Daryl grumbled to himself in frustration as he leaned on the car he was busy fixing up, watching as you walked past him in a hurry for the hundredth time that day, occupied with yet another task that somebody else probably could've handled on their own. However, with you being you, he knew that you offered to take someone's job for them so that they could relax and get out of the blazing summer sun, all at your own expense. Everyone else was enjoying their day while you ran around like a headless chicken.

Your caring, helpful and selfless nature was something that the archer loved about you. Despite the horrors in the world, of everything you've seen and experienced, you managed to clutch on to your humanity and keep it locked safely in your being, like a vault. However, on that particular day, he wished so badly that you'd just be selfish and take the day to slow down and unwind, maybe get some much deserved sleep. You were awake even earlier than he was lately, and went to bed way later than almost everyone, so he knew there was no way you were going to last if you kept this up. It seemed to him like it would be his duty to pull you away and force you into your home to relax.

He's officially had enough of your stubbornness. You were going to relax, whether he had to drag you home or not.

He hurried after you, calling your name. You stopped when you heard his voice, turning around to look at your partner. You sent him a smile and called back to him. “Can't talk right now! I have to go help Denise restock the infirmary!”

You turned around and started to stalk off towards the infirmary, but you were stopped in your tracks when Daryl grabbed your wrist and spun you around. You looked up at him in surprise, observing the determined look the archer had in his eyes.

“Daryl, what—”

“Nah, ya ain't goin' nowhere,” he told you matter-of-factly, moving his hand from your arm to hold your hand in his. He looked to the side and saw Aaron walking somewhere with Eric. “Hey, Aaron, Eric! Would ya mind helpin' Denise with restockin' the infirmary? She can't do it alone.”

Aaron smiled and nodded. “Sure! We were just heading that way anyways.”

Before you could start to protest, Daryl started pulling you with him, leading you towards the house. That didn't stop you from trying to resist, however. The need to help everyone, even if they didn't need it, ran deep in you, and you hated that your responsibility was now pushed onto someone else.

“Daryl, what are you doing?” you questioned, sending your partner an incredulous look. “I should be helping Denise. Aaron and Eric were relaxing today. They shouldn't have to tire themselves out.”

“And neither should ya,” Daryl stated, pushing inside your small home and closing the door behind you. “Dun' think I haven't noticed ya overworkin' yerself. Takin' on extra guard duty, workin' day and nigh' to fortify the walls and helpin' Maggie with the crops when she has 'nough people helpin' her already. Yer outta here earlier and earlier each day and gettin' home later each nigh'. Ya deserve to relax, too. And I dun' wanna hear any complaints.”

You couldn't help the smile that spread over your face. Your heart swelled with love for the man before you. Never before in your life had you been with a man quite as amazing as Daryl. None of your previous partners would even have realized that you were working yourself down to the bone. You were extremely lucky to have the archer in your life.

“Okay, Mr Dixon,” you started playfully, sending him a teasing smile. “What do you want me to do first on this relaxation journey you seem to have planned for me?”

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. “Go take a shower and get changed into somethin' more comfortable. I'll get started on makin' us somethin' to eat.”

Following his instructions, you headed up the stairs. A few minutes later, Daryl could hear the shower turn on and he inwardly celebrated his victory. You were actually listening to him. You were actually going to relax for the first time in weeks. If he had known that him voicing his concern would get you to start slowing down, he would've done it a while ago.

Working like a man on a mission, he quickly grabbed some pillows and blankets from one of the cupboards and made a comfortable place for you to relax on the couch before moving to the kitchen. Grabbing a few things he needed from the cupboards, he made good on his promise and started preparing a simple snack for the both of you—some omelettes.

In no time at all, you were done in the shower. You got dressed in a pair of freshly washed flannel pants and one of Daryl's shirts and made your way down to the kitchen. However, the sight that met you had you stilling in your tracks—Daryl was busy dishing up the omelettes, a glass of wine for each of you next to the plates.

“Well, this is a sight I could get used to,” you voiced, making the archer turn to face you, pan still in his hand.

He shot you a small smile before handing you a glass of wine, ushering you out of the kitchen. “Go on and get settled on the couch. I'll be right there.”

Accepting the glass of wine, you nodded and headed to the living room, pleasantly surprised to see the blankets and pillows set up on the couch. You did as you were instructed and sat down on the couch, covering your legs and lap with one of the blankets. You were slowly sipping on your wine, waiting for Daryl to join you.

As if being summoned by your mere thoughts, Daryl appeared in the living room, balancing two plates in his hands. He placed one of the plates in your lap before placing his own on the coffee table, moving to grab something from his bag that was resting near the fire place. When he turned around, you audibly gasped in surprise at the object in his hand, placing your glass of wine and plate on the table.

“Where'd you get nail polish?” you questioned excitedly, sitting up straighter to allow Daryl to sit next to you.

“Rosita found some on a run a few days ago,” he explained, sitting down on the couch and gently taking one of your hands. “She didn't like this colour and asked me to give it to ya. I forgot 'bout it until now. Figured I'd paint yer nails and turn this day into a spa day of sorts.”

You smiled fondly at the archer, watching as he placed your hand flat on his leg and opened up the bottle. “You know you don't have to do this, right?”

“I want to,” he replied easily, carefully applying the nail polish to your nails. “Ya've been overworkin' yerself lately. Jus' let me take care of ya, alrigh'?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

The next few minutes was spent in a comfortable silence. Daryl was surprisingly good at applying the nail polish, making little to no mistakes whatsoever. In no time at all, your nails were done, and Daryl motioned for you to turn around. You did so, and practically moaned in relief when Daryl's hands started gently massaging your shoulders. His hands were expertly working at the knots that had formed on your shoulders, transferring you to a state of bliss.

“That feels really good,” you mumbled, closing your eyes at the heavenly feeling.

“Yeah?” Daryl smiled, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade before resuming his actions. “Told ya tha' ya were overworkin' yerself. Ya deserve this.”

You let out a groan of satisfaction, enjoying the feeling of Daryl's big, callused hands working at the painful knots. You were in heaven at that moment. Not only did Daryl make you food, he poured you a glass of wine, made you a comfortable spot on the couch, painted your nails and now he was giving you a massage. You truly believed that no man could ever compare to the man you had the lucky privilege of calling yours.

“I love you,” you whispered almost inaudibly, but loud enough for Daryl to catch.

Daryl smiled softly. “I love ya too,” he replied, pressing another gentle kiss to your shoulder blade before withdrawing. “Now lay flat on yer stomach. S'time to get workin' on yer back now.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied playfully, slowly flipping over to lay on your stomach.

“Good girl.”

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victimized-martyr · 2 years

Text

flustered broflovski recipe:

1 tranquil cartman

1 close proximity

let complicated feelings simmer for 10 years

enjoy!!

#kyman #my art #kyle broflovski #eric cartman #south park #cartman hasnt been asleep btw he was waiting till kyle��d hug him #he’s 10x more nervous than kyle fr fr #he doesn’t know why bc this asshole’s self awareness level is SHIT but kyle??? mmmm he knows what’s goin on inside and he’s Suffering (tm)#I don’t think cartman would ever make the first move but Kyle absolutely would. he’s straightforward but he gets nervous like any other kid #and of course like all their exchanges Cartman has to be the one with the final say and get things rollin

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pretty-red-garnet · 10 months

Text

The Alexandrian

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Alexandria • Fluff

Daryl looks around the gated community. It's strange, the houses— mansions, really— that lined the streets looked right out of a catalog or one of those home renovation shows. It was clean and if he couldn't still hear the quiet groaning from some stray walkers, he'd think he was transported back in time.

Rick was cautiously looking at their guide, Aaron, and the leader Deanna. She wanted to interview them. Daryl almost turned and left right there, but then he saw Carl holding Lil' Asskicker, and his feet were planted where he stood.

After they were all interviewed and had given up their weapons, they were given two houses to use. Daryl scoffed at the sight. No way would he get used to this. No way.

As his group began to filter in the house, he gave one last glance around. There was a house not far that was smaller than the rest. It was nice, but looked out of place in the community. He didn't give it too much thought before heading inside.

Everyone was smiling, still nervous and careful, but the hot running water had lifted some spirits. Daryl didn't care much. He instead headed back out to sit on the porch. Everyone was staying in the larger house, so he would take watch. The whole place gave him an uneasy feeling. He felt like the people were giving him odd looks. He didn't belong, and everyone knew it.

It was late at night when Daryl was still outside. The house was too stuffy, he couldn't sleep. Not here. He was fiddling with his crossbow, absentmindedly cleaning it with a rag. It was more to keep his hands busy than anything, he could barely see in the dim glow of the porch light.

He heard a door slam and his eyes shot up. It was from that little house not far. A woman was standing on the porch. She was a little ways away, but Daryl could just barely see that she looked tense. Her head was down so he couldn't see her face, but her hand was rubbing at her temple. When she sat down on the front step, her leg bounced anxiously.

He bit his lip in worry. What did she have to be so anxious about? Maybe this place wasn't safe, maybe they were hiding something. Daryl vaguely knew that the thoughts were slightly paranoid, but he was on edge and hasn't slept in days.

As if she felt eyes on her, her eyes flitted up to find his. Daryl shot his eyes away and instead began to fiddle with his bow again. He hears a door close again and when he chanced a glance back at the woman, she was gone.

Daryl looked at the house. It was large and filled to the brim with both people from Alexandria and his family. He bit his lip in thought. His family seemed adamant in trying to fit in, to try and make it work, but he wasn't so sure. He couldn't fit in here, he wouldn't.

Daryl wasn't a stranger to the sideways looks he got from the people here. The looks of disgust when he brought home animals on a string ready to be cleaned. Or when he was caked in blood and dirt from being outside the walls.

This party Deanna had thrown was something that was supposed to stay in the old world. Not when there are dead people walking around. He saw Rick holding Judith and chatting away with some of the locals through the window. He shoved his hands in his pockets and finally turned away. He couldn't do it.

"Hey!" Daryl looks towards the sound and saw Aaron standing at his front steps.

"Thought you were goin' to that party over there," Daryl says, gesturing loosely in the direction of Deanna's house.

"Oh no, I was never going. Especially with Eric's leg being how it is." Daryl looks at him with furrowed brows.

"Why the hell you tell me to go then?" Daryl says, his tone a little sharp.

"I said to try. You did," Aaron explains with a friendly smile. "Why don't you come in and have dinner with us? We're having spaghetti."

Aaron waves at something behind him and Daryl turns to look. It's that woman he saw the other night. She waves back but looks slightly confused at Daryl's presence. Now that he's closer, he can take in how pretty she is. She looks a little shy, but her eyes sparkle even in the dim lighting. Daryl looks away and back at Aaron, thinking for just a second before taking his invitation.

"So, who is that girl?" Daryl asks during dinner. He couldn't help it. He hasn't seen much of her around the community. He'd be lying is he said he wasn't the least bit interested.

"Oh, that's Y/N," Aaron says. "We brought her in a few weeks ago. She's still... adjusting." Daryl hums in response.

"Just haven't seen her around s'all." Daryl shrugs and slurps another mouthful of spaghetti. Aaron wasn't lying when he said it was good.

"She isn't very social," Eric says. "She's nice enough though. She just keeps to herself."

"We just try to give her space. She contributes to the community a lot, especially with her garden," Aaron finishes. "If you ever need some fresh produce, she's your girl."

It's the next day and Daryl is crouched by some bike parts. Aaron had offered him a position to go out scouting if he can put a bike together with parts he had. Getting out of these confining walls sounded great, so here he was, in Aaron's garage putting a bike together.

He heard footsteps and looked up, seeing Y/N standing outside by the open garage. She gave Daryl a peculiar look, glancing at him in the garage and at the front door. Finally, she walks over to him a little awkwardly.

"Hey, is uhh, Aaron or Eric home?" She asks, quietly. She's holding a little basket with what seems to be some tomatoes.

"Nah, they're at the infirmary." A worried look colored her face so Daryl rushed to explain. "Just checkin' up on Eric's ankle s'all. They're fine."

"Oh, ok, good," she says. Her voice is quiet still, soft spoken. "I just wanted to drop this off." She holds up the basket.

"You could leave it here, I'll make sure to give it to 'em." She nods and lays the basket down near the front of the garage. She gives him a little smile and Daryl's heart thumps. God, she's really pretty.

"Thanks." And with that, she's gone.

Daryl doesn't see her much after that quick interaction. Sometimes, when he can't sleep and he's outside, he sees her sit on her steps like she's lost in thought. Other times, she leaves before the suns come up, going beyond the walls with a gun on one hip and a buck knife on the other. Even bringing back some fresh meat once in a while. Daryl would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't curious about her.

She's quiet and reserved. Sometimes he'll spot an Alexandrian going to her house to ask for a fresh tomato or berries. Unlike other residents, shes doesn't chat up a storm. She does what needs to be done and that's it.

Daryl will sit out on the porch some nights and wonder who she is. Aaron said he just found you a few weeks ago, but no other explanation. Where was she before? Had she had a group, or was she alone all this time? The woman could definitely handle herself if she came and went as often as she did.

"Hey, pookie," Carol's voice distracts Daryl from his smoke break. He'd been at Aaron's house nearly all day, and was finally done now that the sun was setting. He hums. "Could you go to Y/N's and grab some green beans? I didn't get enough earlier for my casserole."

Daryl looks at her and scoffs. Carol had slipped into the housewife role since coming to Alexandria, and it makes Daryl annoyed to no end. Mostly because she does it so well, baking cookies and playing Betty Crocker in flowy blouses. Makes him sick.

He hums and nods once, stamping out his cigarette and making his way to your house. He was nervous, he doesn't know you and just rocking up and asking for something felt off. He knows everyone does it, but still.

He knocks once he gets the nerve and wait. After a while and no answer, he feels awkward. Maybe she isn't even here. He's just about to turn and leave before the door opens.

"Hey, Carol just needs some more—" He stops short when he finally looks at the girl. The door is only open a crack, and her face is slightly concealed by shadow, but he can still see faint red marks around her eyes. Her fingers on the door are jittery and she shifts her weight from side to side. "You alright?"

"What did you need?" She doesn't answer his question. Her voice is rough, like she's been crying a while. Gone is the silky softness Daryl had heard the other day. It send a foreign feeling to his chest.

"Just... some green beans but—"

"Ok, give me a second." She turns and leaves, leaving the door open just a little. Daryl feels unbelievably awkward. The poor girl was just crying and now she has to fetch a stranger fucking green beans. She comes back a moment later with a basket of beans.

"Is that enough?" She asks, her face still tear stained but slightly redder, like she had scrubbed at it.

"Yeah, yeah... thanks," Daryl said. He grabbed the basket slowly. "You sure you're alright? I could go get Aaron or somethin'..." Daryl thinks they're close, he's seen her talk a little with him before.

"No, no. He doesn't..." she stops talking and looks anywhere but to Daryl. He waits patiently for her to continue. "I shouldn't bother him."

"You two are friends ain't ya? Sure he won't mind."

"I would," she says quietly, her voice still teary sounding, and she sniffles now and then. "Is that all?"

Daryl nods, still looking a little worried at her. But it isn't his business, so he doesn't stop her when she closes the door. He walks away from her house after casting one last look.

Daryl brings Carol the green beans and she looks at him a little thoughtfully. She tilts her head at him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She asks, kindly. He shrugs and gives a noncommittal hum.

"She was cryin'..." he finally admits. He felt bad for saying it, he definitely wouldn't want anyone to walk in on him having a moment and tell, but it's Carol. He couldn't not tell her.

"Who?" Carol asks.

"Y/N. Wouldn't say what was wrong though." He shrugs, but still looks a little lost in thought.

"Huh," Carol says. "Maybe you should check on her later then." Daryl furrows his brows at her and gives her a look. "What?"

"I don't know her."

"Well, it'd be good for you to talk to new people. And from what I've seen, she doesn't seem to have many friends either. It'd be nice of you." Daryl thinks for a second before giving Carol another sideways look.

"You sayin' I don't have friends? The hell are you then?" Carol scoffs and laughs at him at the same time. Tilting her head at him.

"We're family. It would be good for you to talk to others. Branch out." She lays a hand on the man's shoulder.

Daryl couldn't stop thinking of the crying girl and what Carol said. He ended up not going to see her again, but he did sit up on his porch casting looks at her house that night. He couldn't get her teary eyes out of his head. That pure sadness in her face. It gave him a pressure in his chest he wasn't fond of.

Eventually he hears Y/N's door snap closes like it always does, and she plants herself down on the steps. She had a mug of something cradled in her hands. It must be hot because Daryl can see steam wafting from it.

He bites his thumb in thought. Maybe he should go over, just make sure she was alright. Like Carol said, you didn't have many friends from what Daryl could tell. She spend most time tending to her garden or outside the walls. The closest he's seen her with anyone was Aaron, and from her reaction earlier, she probably hadn't gone to talk to him.

Finally, Daryl follows the pull in his chest and walks over to her. She spots him right away, and those pretty sparkly eyes of hers nearly make him stop halfway. She looks confused and wary.

"Hey," Daryl starts. She nods, one sharp jut down of her chin. She's still giving him that look, like she's waiting for him to pounce or something. "Just wanted to make sure you're alright... seemed pretty upset earlier."

"I'm ok," she says. She looks down like she's embarrassed. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout." She gives him a little half smile and it sends a flutter to his stomach. "Well, I best be goin'... just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Daryl backtracks. Maybe she just didn't want to be bothered. He shoves his hands in his pants pockets and turns around only halfway before her voice stop him.

"You could stay," she says. Daryl is surprised, and from her expression when he turns around, so is she. "Unless you don't want to... it is pretty late." She rushes out, tapping anxiously at her mug.

"Nah, I'll stay for a bit." Daryl, despite wanted to turn tail and run, stays. His interest in the mysterious woman outweighs his disbelief that a girl so pretty would want anything to do with him.

He takes a seat next to her on the stoop. They both sit in a awkward silence for a minute. Both just looking out towards the sky.

"You want some tea?" Y/N asks lowly, finally breaking the silence.

"You don't have to—"

"I don't mind." Y/N stands up quickly and goes to fetch the tea. She might just be shyer than Daryl, she seemed to want to run away more than he did. But if Daryl was honest, he found it pretty cute, even endearing.

She comes back a few short minutes later with a second steaming mug. She gives it to him with that same small, kind smile. Daryl could feel his neck flush. He accepts with a mumbled thanks.

"So uh," Daryl starts. "How long you've been here? In Alexandria." She takes a sip of tea and makes a so-so gesture with her hand.

"Maybe a month? Little more. Hard to keep track of time now..." She taps her mug still, must be a nervous tick. Daryl hums and nods an agreement. "I was the last person Aaron and Eric brought in before you guys. Feels nice not to be the newbie anymore." She has a little teasing smile on her face, but her head is still down low and her hair partially covers her face.

"Yeah, I'm not likin' being the newbie much," Daryl says with a scoff.

"Everyone looks at you funny... like they don't trust you, because they know of the things you must've done to survive on your own..." Y/N says. She looks down, lost in her head. Almost like she realizes she's been talking, she glances at Daryl and blushes.

"That why you were cryin' before? Cause of the things you've done?" Daryl regrets having spoken, because she looks close to tears again. Good going Daryl, Jesus Christ. He screws his eyes shut for just a quick second, chastising himself in his head. "Sorry, you don—"

"Yes," she says quickly, finally looking up to meet Daryl's gave. For the first time, he can really see just how beautiful and intense her eyes are. He can see every little speck of color. He feels his cheeks burn under her gaze.

"And the things you've done, are they why you sit outside every night? Don't sleep?" She asks him, not breaking eye contact. He nods, slowly, and Daryl sees something he was positive he'd never see in an Alexandrian's eyes.

Understanding.

Those nightly chats continue nearly every night. Even while they were planning how to get the walkers out of the quarry, no matter what time either of them had gotten up that morning. Even after the wolves terrorize the community, and a huge herd surround the tall walls, they still talk almost every night.

Even Daryl's family knew. Carol and Rick teased him about his nightly outings relentlessly. Especially when you'd go over to drop off their produce, it seemed they knew the quiet woman mostly did it to see Daryl.

Daryl and Y/N didn't see much of each other during the day unless it was dropping off produce. Daryl was always out, hunting, going on runs. Y/N mostly helped around inside, tending to her little garden and now helping Maggie with the large one she was planning in the center of the community.

But on rare occasions like today, Daryl and Y/N were both able to get away and head outside the walls. They were both excellent hunters, so Daryl escaped from the walls with her as often as possible. Which was never enough now that he couldn't get out to look for new people, as Rick had ordered.

"Oh, Daryl!" She called out. Daryl was slightly ahead, but turned back to her at her call.

"What?" She pointed excitedly at a little shrub. Daryl looked curiously from her to the bush. "What about it?"

"It's a huckleberry bush. I can dig it up and plant it back home." Home. It sounded strange to Daryl. The last place he considered home he'd lost in a fiery blaze, but he supposed that is what Alexandria is. Home.

Y/N sank to her knees and dug at the dirt a little before giving a satisfied look towards Daryl.

"It's really small, and not in season yet, but the roots look good. Won't be too long before the berries start popping up." Daryl kneeled next to her and helped her to dig it up. She smiled excitedly at him, and Daryl shyly smiled back. Her smile still made his heart jump, even after seeing it so many times. Y/N isn't so shy with him anymore, even if she's still reserved when it comes to other people.

After fighting with the shrub, they eventually yank it out. Daryl smiled to himself seeing the girl so pleased.

"We should get back soon. I should plant it soon as possible, wouldn't want the roots to dry up," Y/N explains. Daryl nods and suddenly becomes nervous.

"Yeah uh... could I show you somethin' first?" He asks. He's biting his thumb now, and Y/N gives him a skeptical look.

"Yeah, what?" She asks.

"Surprise." She looks at him crooked but nods. "Come on."

Daryl leads her back to his bike. She puts the bush carefully in the saddle bag and they both hop on. The first time they rode together, Daryl had been so nervous he'd almost crashed. Now, riding alone made him miss the warm contact.

It's embarrassing how much he had gotten attached to Y/N. Most days he couldn't wait for night fall so he could finally head to her porch and drink that funky tasting tea, just because it made her happy. If Daryl was honest, he'd do just about anything to make her happy and smiling.

Daryl was never in love before. Of course he's loved people, certainly loved his brother and his family, but he's been never in love. But if Daryl could guess, he's pretty sure it felt like this.

A sharp flick to his ear sent him back to present. He cast a look behind him to the culprit, who was grinning. He forced a dramatic frown at her, but that smile and giggle made his lungs just about stop working.

"Don't go so fast! My bush is rocking around in there," she yelled over the rumble of the bike, patting the saddlebag to emphasize her point.

"Yeah, yeah, you and your damn plants!" He teased, eliciting another giggle and a poke to his side. "Thought we had to be fast to get home so you could plant it?"

"Won't be anything to plant if it's all torn apart by the time we get there!"

Finally, Daryl pulled the bike to a stop. Y/N looked around before looking back at him. She tilted her head and smirked.

"More woods, consider me impressed, Daryl." He shoves her arm lightly and his face flushes.

"Stop."

Daryl leads her further into the woods before suddenly stepping in front of her. She looks confused and he can't help but think her furrowed brows and scrunched nose is adorable.

"Close your eyes." She gives him a scrutinizing look but obliges with a dramatic sigh.

"Better be good, Daryl."

He leads her carefully through the forest. One hand on her arm and another on the small of her back, he leads her slowly over large rocks and overturned logs with care. Daryl gets more nervous the closer they get to their destination. Maybe it was a stupid idea, or she wouldn't like it. Maybe he'd dragged her out here and she wants to go home.

"Alright," Daryl says finally. "Open your eyes."

Y/N opens her eyes slowly, blinking a little at the sudden brightness after having her eyes closed so long. After a second, he smiles brightly, eye flitting around.

It was a clearing in the woods, shaded by surrounding trees and covered in flowers. Large bushes of different colored flowers bordered the clearing, with small patches of wild flowers covering the ground in the center. He'd found it on a solo hunt not long ago, and planned to take her since.

Y/N was surprisingly quiet. Ever since they'd starting talking, she'd opened up to him completely. She hasn't been this quiet since that first time they met, and it made Daryl unbearably anxious.

"So..?" Daryl asks, biting his thumb and looking between the woman and his shoes. He digs his boot in the dirt, scuffing the ground, anxiously awaiting her reply.

"It's..." she starts. Finally, after an agonizing few seconds, she looks at him. She walks up to him and gently takes his thumb from his mouth. He feels heat course through his face but he holds her gaze steadily, and lets her pull away his hand. "It's beautiful."

She turns from him and wanders deeper into the clearing. Daryl follows, almost in a daze. She's never looked so beautiful, smiling and almost giddy with joy, stroking different flowers as she walks past. Daryl is sure his heart is going to give out.

Finally, she lays down right in the center. She laughs and reaches a hand towards Daryl. He steps forward apprehensively, but after catching another look at her jovial face, he hurries to lay next to her.

They lay shoulder to shoulder for a while. Just basking in the light that's filtering through the trees. Y/N absentmindedly plays with a flower between her fingers with her eyes closed.

"I love it," she says lowly, cracking her eyes open to look at Daryl beside her. He smiles.

"Ain't nothin'..." She whacks his hand laying beside her halfheartedly.

"It's not." She leaves her hand right next to his, the contact sending electric shocks up his entire arm. Tentatively, Y/N begins to fold her fingers in his. Daryl looks over to find that she's still looking at him deeply, with that intense gaze Daryl is sure he'll never get used to. He intertwines their fingers, both still staring at each other with flushed cheeks and soft smiles.

Daryl is sure who started what, but soon enough, their lips are touching. It's like a magnetic force, and Daryl can't resist. He touches her cheek softly, and he can feel her smile against him.

Daryl can't get enough, he doesn't ever want to. They push up against each other until they're completely melted together, touching from head to toe. She languidly pushes her fingers through his hair, smiling harder against his lips when he makes a pleased hum.

After some time, Y/N pulls away. She gives him a brilliant smile that makes him push one more kiss to her lips before he is ready to stop. She curls into his chest when he lays down again fully, and he gently runs his calloused fingers through her soft hair. She lefts out a comforted sigh.

“I don’t…” Daryl starts then pauses, breaking the silence. Y/N looks up from his chest, her fingers curled up in his shirt under his vest. “I don’t know… how to do this.”

“That’s ok,” she says with that soft, kind smile. She brushes hair away from his face and her closes his eyes for a second, relishing in the feeling. “We’ll figure it out together.”

They lay next to one another for a long while, even after the sun begins to set. Sharing caring and soft caresses and touches. Sometimes giving the other little shy smiles. It’s getting dark now, but the two still don’t want to part.

“Guess we should get home…” Daryl says reluctantly, his voice low and even grittier sounding than normal.

“Yeah, we should,” she replies, sinking further in his arms. Daryl smiles to himself and plants a shy kiss to her head. She lets out another content hum.

When they finally remove themselves from each other, they give each other shy smiles and glances. Y/N floats around the area one last time, picking a bundle of flowers before following Daryl to his bike.

Daryl watches her, how careful she is to the plants and how she walks around almost majestically. He thinks about how it was just a couple months ago she found her way into his life. She had called Alexandria home, and Daryl agreed, but now, just watching her meander through the clearing, he thinks that maybe home isn’t a place but a person.

When she gets to his bike, she opens up the little saddlebag to place her bundle of multicolored flowers. She suddenly frowns and looks over at Daryl.

“What?” He asks, nervously taking in her expression. She shakes her head and looks down, concern fretting her pretty features. Did she regret what just happened? Was she just now processing and she realized she didn’t want Daryl this way? She looks back up to meet Daryl’s eyes, still with that frown. Daryl wrings his hands.

“My damn bush is dead.”

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #twd #walking dead oneshot #the walking dead imagine #walking dead fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl dixon fluff #walking dead alexandria #walking dead fluff

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junkdrawerfics · 4 months

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hello!! i had a request for jasper, if that’s ok? i was thinking about him with an entirely oblivious reader. alice knows they’re meant to be together, and just cannot fathom how reader is this clueless to jasper’s flirting? LMAO esp with that southern charm and the fact that he’s actually talking to someone outside of his family 😭 just know id be blissfully unaware that man’s even interested even if he was breathing down my neck and his family is practically tearing their hair out atp 😭

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: You're oblivious. That's it. And it drives the Cullens (+ Bella) crazy. Jasper has to take a far more direct approach to get through to you.

Word Count: 1846

Note: I hope this works for what you were requesting! It was a fun write, I always like playing with different perspectives and even writing scenes without the reader directly in it.

---

“Anyone would think they’re dating,” Alice sighs in exasperation.

Bella follows the vampire’s gaze, noticing you and Jasper standing close together at your car. You’re gesturing wildly, eyes wide, excitement pouring off of you like usual. And Jasper’s just listening, a soft smile on his lips, one she’s only ever seen when the blond’s with you.

“Most of the school does,” she corrects, shoving her hands in her pockets, “Jessica brings it up all the time and Angela says she had to fight Eric to keep it out of the paper.”

Alice snorts softly, the sound somehow delicate. The humans love gossiping about their family, a fact that is unchanging wherever they go. She’s heard more than a few rumors about the two of you, and Jasper probably has too. You, however, remain blissfully unaware.

In her entire century of life, she had never met someone so completely oblivious.

“Does she know he’s flirting with her?” Bella asks, her brow furrowing as Jasper tucks a strand of hair behind your ear while you just keep talking a mile a minute, totally unphased. You, the girl who gets flustered at the drop of a hat with everything else.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Alice chirps matter-of-factly, “She has no clue that he likes her. It’s kind of sweet. But also maddening.”

“You’ve seen something about them?”

“Of course I have.” She sighs again, shaking her head. “It’s not even that, though! I don’t need a vision to know they’re perfect for each other. They’re both absolutely smitten with each other, but she’s even more oblivious than you.”

“Hey-!”

Jasper chuckles under his breath. You pause, head tilting as you follow his flickering gaze to the two girls standing at the other side of the lot. Alice has her hands propped on her hip, a smirk adorning her features as Bella turns impossibly red.

Curiosity washes over you. Eagerly, you whip back to Jasper. “What are they talking about?”

“Bout you and me it seems, and they’re arguin’ about how…observant Bella is,” he murmurs, amusement clear in his tone.

You blink, pursing your lips a little, “They were talking about us?”

“They were just wonderin’ if we are goin’ to the fall festival,” he lies smoothly. Jasper has no desire to expose you to the ugly rumor mill of this town. “What do you say, darlin? Want to go with me?”

“Yes! Yes, I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about that all week!” You squeak, confusion disappearing just like that.

The smile you give him is so bright, so genuine, it could cripple a weaker man. The blond has to bite his tongue, though, the desire to lean down and kiss you pulling at his chest viciously. He wants to see if your smile tastes as sweet as it looks…

“We could see if they want to join us!” You continue, clapping your hands like a little kid. “Maybe that’s why they were talking about us. Oh, it’d be so fun to go as a group!”

The groan from across the parking lot is audible even to you.

---

“Gaaaahhh-��

Your groan gets cut off when you flop onto your bed and land face first in your fluffy comforter. It practically swallows you whole, you almost wish it would.

Bella watches, lips curling in amusement as she gently drops her backpack down and perches herself at your desk, “Jasper again?”

“-e’s su niiithee,” you whine, voice muffled.

“Try again.”

You turn over on your back, pouting at the ceiling, “He’s so nice.”

“He is.” Bella draws her knees up to prop her chin on and waits. The rant is inevitable.

“No, like, he’s so nice. You don’t understand, Bells.” You throw your arms in the air, letting them fall to the bed dramatically. “I’ve never met someone who’s just so nice. And he’s so pretty and charming and sometimes I just wish I could jump on him and hold on like a koala.”

“You could,” she points out, not missing a beat.

Propping up on your elbows, you can’t help but gasp at her, cheeks going positively red, “No I can’t! That would totally freak him out!”

“I think he’d like it more than you think.”

“Oh my gosh.” Your hands fly to your face, as if covering it will stop the blush from spreading down your neck. “You’re so mean to me, Bells. So crude.”

Bella snorts, “That’s not crude. And you’re oblivious.”

“Hello!” You yelp, sitting up. “Kettle calling the pot black!”

“It’s the other way around, actually.”

“Oh whatever,” you sigh, flopping back down. Your thoughts are always a mess when it comes to Jasper, and everyone teasing you like this doesn’t help. It’s easy when you’re with him, you kind of just forget about it all. He’s your best friend, afterall. A frown pulls at your lips. “And I’m not oblivious. We’re just really close friends. I think I’d know if he liked me or something…”

Bella has never been so close to strangling someone.

---

Eventually, a Cullen family meeting has to be held about the issue, despite Jasper’s reluctance.

“She’s clueless,” Bella groans, dropping onto the couch next to Edward.

Emmett snickers from his seat with Rosalie, “I thought we already knew that?”

“We did.” Alice sighs as if she’s mourning the thought. “But we’re afraid it’s worse than we originally thought. The girl is hopeless.”

“She is not,” Jasper chides, lingering on the edge of the group. A part of him doesn’t like having his family in the middle of this. It’s his relationship, or lack thereof. He hates feeling infantilized.

“Hush, Jasper.” Alice waves him off, earning a scowl from the blond. “You’re hopeless in your own ways. This is about (Y/n).”

“So what should we do?”

Jasper forces himself to take a long, calming breath. They mean well, he knows that. They always do. But their methods are usually far too…exaggerated. He might have considered asking for Esme’s advice, perhaps even Carlisle, but not Emmett, and most certainly not Alice. This is his decision to make, and he needs to go about it in his own way.

“Oh! Maybe we can hire someone-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupts, cutting off whatever wild plan Emmett has concocted, drawing the family’s attention to himself. Jasper straightens up, giving them all a pointed look, “This is my business, and I will be taking care of it as I see fit. Thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary.”

“What are you going to do, honey?” Esme speaks her first words of the evening, voice gentle and unassuming as always.

The blond softens, giving her a faint smile, “I’ll be straight with her.”

“But-”

“Stay out of it, Alice.” The little ravenette pouts, though her eyes dance with excitement. A little push was all he needed, it seems. “It won’t do me any good if she learns of my feelings from one of you. It needs to be me. Even if I have to lay myself out plain for her to see.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want, son,” Carlisle hums, relieved to take a step back. He wasn’t a fan of this plan from the start.

“It is.”

And it’s true. At one point, it didn’t feel like he had much control of his life, but now he does. And now he has you. It may just be a ‘matter of time’ thing, according to Alice’s vision, but he wants to do this right, at his own pace.

Now, it’s just a question of how.

---

“Darlin…can we talk?”

“We are talking,” you giggle, writing down another formula.

“I mean a more serious talk.”

You blink, looking up from your chem textbook to meet a pair of nervous, gold eyes. Nervous? Jasper is nervous? Your brows furrow, concern immediately sparking in your chest.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, notes forgotten and thrown to the side. You can always study later. “What’s up, Jasper?”

“Everythin’s alright, just-” Jasper settles on the bed in front of you. He keeps a respectable distance, but reaches across to take your hand in his. You freeze. Eyes wide, you can’t stop yourself from staring at it. Your hands. Together. He’s holding your hand. Why is he holding your hand?

“Darlin?”

“Huh?” Oh right. You drag your gaze back up to him, catching a flicker of an amused smile on his lips. A blush creeps up your neck and you smile apologetically. “Sorry, sorry, um, what’s up?”

“I have something important to tell you,” he explains, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that is far too distracting.

It helps calm your racing heart, though, because a part of you is terrified. You have no clue what he could possibly want to talk about that would warrant such seriousness. Unconscious, you end up holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“I like you, darlin.”

What?

You pause. Process. Confusion swirls through your concern.

“I like you too, Jazz, you’re my best friend,” you chime, tone completely lost and befuddled.

An incredulous laugh breaks past Jasper’s wall of nerves. The tension drips from his shoulders. It’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that he feels like he can finally say everything he’s ever wanted to say.

“I’m ‘fraid you don’t understand, darlin,” he hums, giving you one of those gorgeous, slanted grins that make your heart melt. And the way you cock your head at him, eyes doe-ish and soft, does the exact same thing to him. “I want to take you on a date. I want to open doors for you and walk you to your porch afterwards. Maybe give you a goodnight kiss and watch you go inside. You drive me mad, darlin. I like you so much, it’s taking everythin’ in me not to kiss you right now.”

What?

Your head spins. It’s difficult to even process what he’s saying, everything swimming through your head at a dizzying pace. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“You-” You falter, “You want to- to what?”

Finally.

Jasper smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip erratically, “I want to kiss you sugar. And trust me, it is mighty hard to control myself.”

“Okay um…” You scream silently in your head. Jasper wants to kiss you. Jasper likes you. He likes you. And you like him. “So, you- okay, I have no clue what to do now. I like you too, a lot. Which you probably knew. Wow. I can’t believe I didn’t…”

“Everyone tried tellin’ you,” Jasper chuckles, leaning back.

“I know! I just, I thought they were all teasing me, you know? Cause I like you,” you explain lamely, pouting a bit in disbelief. All this time, you could have just told him! “I just can’t believe how oblivious I was.”

“Trust me, darlin, none of us can. I have one more question for you, though.”

“What?”

“Will you give me the great pleasure of takin’ you on a date?”

You bite your lip, but it does nothing to stop the smile from spreading across them.

“Of course!”

---

I hope you guys liked this one! It was a fun one, though it took me a while!

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight saga #twilight #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper x reader #you're so oblivious it hurts #oblivious reader

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nobrashfestivity · 6 months

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Personal rambling on Robert Johnson (don't feel you have to read this)

Since last night's song was a Robert Johnson song, I feel like mentioning that I always find it stomach churning how his musical legacy was talked about a large part of the music community.

His name was the subject of two complexly fabricated stories designed to cast him in a musical light that was comfortable to white musicians and writers.

The first one was silliness about him selling his soul to the devil so he could play guitar. It was such an incredibly popular myth (they made movies about it) and when I was a kid it seemed harmless enough until I realized it was to fuel the idea that white culture had about black artists. To whites, black musicians could never be scholarly and learned, doing the difficult task of mastering a musical instrument. Even though so many back musicians were highly educated the trope of the "natural black musician" that didn't have to learn it because they were part of a primitive culture and they were born into music, is a destructive stereotype that lives on today. It's adjacent to the racist "Black people have rhythm" stereotype.

Black people invented so much of American music but it's always been criticized until it is popular enough to be coopted by white artists. I'm not suggesting that white artists refrain from playing and adapting any sort of music, only that there's a lineage from "Jazz is not music" to "Rock and Roll is not music" to "Hip-Hop is not music." I wonder what all these kinds of music have in common!

Fewer people know the more recent Johnson myth that started on the internet, that his recordings were sped up and that's how he sang so high and played difficult things so fast. This had no basis in fact, it was an internet rumor. I felt it was also based on an ingrained racist idea about blues. White musicians had decided it sounded more "Authentic slower despite the fact that Johnson was only 25 years old when he recorded his first records and had ever right to sound like the young man he was. I have been over the "evidence" of this speed changing conspiracy and it was no basis in fact for about 10 reasons I wont bore you with. I just feel it's a lingering and unfortunate cultural picture of the blues that it's a bunch of uneducated black people getting drunk and singing that their baby left them. It can be extremely sophisticated and lyrical music.

I am not accusing everyone of being a racist. Many white musicians genuinely adored, shared the music of and credited Johnson for his genius. Keith Richards famously said when he first heard a record of Johnson paying solo he asked "Who's the guy playing with him?"

The thing I find unfortunate is that endless parade of Blues Hammer bands (Terry Zwigoff KNEW) that have systematically dismantled the elegance of the early rural music. The culture makes it hard for anyone to listen to Johnson and not think of some white hat mustached bar band who thinks they are covering Eric Clapton. And it's just a shame that, in a sense, he will remain this cliche of the guy selling his soul to the devil (so he could play hot licks!) instead of the graceful writer and musician he really was.

And to the poets and writers out there who analyze song lyrics, for me Johnson has some tremendously wry and dense allusions.

I recall reading Stephen Calt (I think) saying that in Johnson's song "Dead Shrimp Blues" "Shrimp" was a 19th century French slang term for a sex worker, long outmoded when he used it. I find these coded aspects to the music really interesting.

In the song last night "Come on in my kitchen" which is all at once mournful and salacious, there's one of Johnson's references to Hoodoo culture:

"Oh, she's gone, I know she won't come back I've taken the last nickel out of her nation sack You better come on in my kitchen It's goin' to be rainin' outdoors"

ethnographer and folklorist Tony Kail writes:

During the 1930’s Anglican minister Harry Middleton Hyatt traveled the United States performing interviews with numerous devotees of Hoodoo and African-American spiritualism. During his stay in Memphis Tennessee Hyatt encountered an informant who shared about a curious artifact known as the ‘nations sack’. Other local terms used for the sack included ‘nations bag’ and probably the most used term the ‘nation sack’.

Hyatt’s informant shared that the sack was worn by females typically around their waist. The sack contained money and objects considered to be ‘lucky’. One practitioner shared with Hyatt that some nation sack owners would place parts of a chicken egg inside the bag while others spoke of adding objects such as roots, snuffboxes and silver dimes. One informant shared that some women utilize materials such as a dollar bill covered in their mate’s urine inside of their nation sacks. Some were used in conjunction with a string that could be tied to ‘tie’ up a man’s ‘nature’ or sexual prowess. The magical principal that appeared frequently was that the ingredients in the nation sack could keep a man faithful and a woman protected. Hyatt’s informant he nicknames the ‘Nation Sack Woman’ advises the minister that the bag is off limits to men and should never be touched by a man.

But a favorite Johnson lyric for me is positively psychedelic for 1937 and is from "Love in vain" which perhaps is popularly known from being covered by The Rolling Stones .

"When the train, it left the station, with two lights on behind the blue light was my blues, and the red light was my mind."

#personal #robert johnson #Okay I didn't intend to go on like that #this is what happened when i can't sleep

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