#i could imagine dwight asking about it?

[fenixburned]

@sanitatcm gets a starter !

"Oh this?" Monty raises a hand to the left side of his face, not quite touching it, as the scars are still a sensitive spot even after all these years. "Do you want the true story? I do have a variety of fake ones by now and I promise they are all worth it." One could argue that the truth was adventurous enough already, but he had made it a habit to spin his own tales about the injury and get some more fun out of those dreaded questions.

[virginsexgod69]

❝ Video Star — ✩❞

pairing (Season 7) Negan Smith x f!Reader

cw smut, unprotected p in v, slight humiliation, pussy slapping, bow jobs, name calling/ pet names, sex tapes, porn photography?

summary You and Negan have some fun with a digital camera you found on a run.

note ahh this is my first time writing for negan, so i hope it's okay... jdm is just tooo fine. i have wild thoughts whenever he's on screen 🫦

1.5k words

...

"Smile!" you said before snapping the photo, taking Dwight off guard. The picture was blurry and unfocused and due to the flash, he was squinting and not even looking at the camera.

"The hell?" he questioned looking at you crazy. "It's a camera, duh. Found it on a run," you explained. He walked off in an annoyed huff leaving you wondering what crawled up his ass and died. You continued walking about the sanctuary taking pictures of unsuspecting people.

"Laura! Say cheese," you prompted the blonde woman as she approached you. She rolled her eyes and held her hand up to the camera, affectively ruining the picture.

"Negan wants to see you," she said. You turned off the camera and looped the strap around your wrist before heading toward his room. What is was he wanted, you had no clue. Your relationship with the man in charge was an odd one. Toeing the line between wife and solider, you had no clue where you stood. Sometimes he sent you on runs, other times he spoiled you with little treats so you wouldn't have to spend any of your points. Once, when he called you in to have a glass of 30 year old scotch with him, the two of you ended up fucking in a drunken haze which lead to regular hookups. You knocked on the door once you arrived and waited patiently for him to let you in, wondering what he wanted and hoping it was to hook up.

He opened the door, revealing him leaning against the door frame in his white t-shirt with Lucille in hand. You stood there nervously, not knowing what to say or what mood to expect from him.

"You just gonna stand there lookin' stupid or you gonna come in?" He asked. He had such a way with words. You stepped into the large room and let him lead you to the couch by the small of your back. You sat in the chair facing the couch he took a seat in.

"Got a little somethin' for ya," he said with a wolfish grin on his face. You relaxed a little as he seemed fairly happy.

"What is it?" you asked, excitement lacing your voice. He reached behind his back and tossed a ball of white fabric at you. You held it up and revealed it was a sheer, lace babydoll dress. Heat flooded your cheeks as you realized that he expected you to put it on.

"Um...could you look away while I change," you asked shyly.

"I've seen you naked, been inside you, but you don't want me to see you change?" he mocked.

"Neeegaan," you whined. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, but covered his eyes with his hand nonetheless. You made quick work of stripping off your clothes, including you underwear, and put on the sheer number. It was a bit small. It struggled to contain your breasts and stopped at your mid-upper thigh, but to Negan, it added to your sex appeal.

"Goddamn, baby. You look fuckin' hot!" He said as he admired you. It was so sheer it barely left anything to the imagination and the lacy parts made you look angelic.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you teased with newfound confidence brought on by Negan's words. Then you remembered your digital camera. "Here." You tossed the camera to him. He caught it and smirked when he realized what it was. A lustful look washed over his eyes as he turned the device on.

"On your knees," he ordered using his leader voice. You quickly and eagerly obeyed him, which only made his dick harden in his pants. He walked over to you and grabbed you jaw in a large hand, tilting it up to look at him before snapping a picture.

"Just look at you. My pretty little doll." And that's exactly what you felt like. His pretty little doll. His to dress and pose and fuck however he wants. It made you wet, giving him full control over you like this.

"Take those panties off." Your body was hot with lust and shame as you slid the moistening garment off your body.

"Get on all fours." You did so and he manually readjusted you to how he wanted. Your ass in the air and back arched with your chin rested on your arms crossed beneath you. The skirt of the dress slid up your body, exposing you to the cool air of the room. Negan snapped a few pictures of your face before moving behind you. You squeaked in shock when you felt his finger slide up and down your slit.

"Damn. So wet and I barely touched you." The humiliation of him taking pictures of your bare pussy only made you wetter. You got on your knees again and turned to face Negan.

"Let's make a sex tape," you suggested as you fiddled with his belt. His signature grin blossomed on his face and he looked down at you with lust filled, hazel eyes.

"Fuck yeah!" He started recording once you got his belt off and pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock. It sprang up, hitting his abdomen and revealing veins you could only see when he was erect. You took him in your hands, licking the precum off his sensitive tip before taking it in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it while slowly stroking the rest with your hands.

"Quit your goddamn teasing and suck my dick," he impatiently demanded. You looked up into the camera with mischief laden eyes as you took the rest of him into your warm mouth, earning a guttural moan from the man. Your pussy fluttered at the sound. Eager to hear it again, you stopped teasing and picked up the pace. But it must not have been enough since Negan grabbed into your hair and began fucking your face at his own rapid pace, ignoring the way you gagged around his large member and the tears streaming down your pretty face.

"That's it. Takin' me so good doll." Your cunt throbbed at the praise. He was getting close, you could tell by the way he twitched inside your mouth. He groaned as he emptied his white hot load down your throat.

"You did so good baby," he praised as he wiped the tears off your face with his thumb. He helped you up off the floor before pushing you onto his bed.

"Show me that pretty little cunt of yours." He spread open your legs and zoomed the camera in on your soaked pussy. Your inner thighs were coated with your arousal, as well. He delivered a rough slap to your pussy, forcing a moan out of you.

"You like it when I hit you, huh?" You could hear the smirk in his voice as he did it again.

"Please Negan! Need you so bad," you begged from beneath him. He ignored your pleas and directed the camera to your breasts, which were barely contained by the babydoll. He pulled them out with little effort. He gave you the camera to hold while he focused his attention to them.

"Such pretty tits," he complimented before nipping your nipple. You squealed in shock and pleasure. He had never done that before, but you liked it. With a flattened tongue, he licked the nipple he bit, soothing it before taking it into his mouth. The scratch of his beard felt so good on your sensitive, bare breasts. He rolled the nipple that wasn't in his mouth between his thumb and pointer finger, causing you to squirm.

"Need you inside," you slurred. Negan pulled away from you r breast with a pop and took the camera back from you.He zoomed in on his own hard-again dick as he lined it up with your sopping hole. You were so wet he slid in effortlessly. You moaned in ecstasy as he finally put out that fire that was burning in you. He didn't hesitate as he started thrusting into you at a merciless pace. The leader couldn't decide if he wanted to focus the camera on the way your cunt swallowed him hole, the outline of his dick protruding through your stomach, your tits as they bounced in unison with his rapid thrusts, or your eyes rolling back in the head of your fucked out face. He zoomed out, capturing the beauty of it all.

"Such a good little fucktoy for me," he admonished. His words brought you closer to the edge as your walls clamped down on his cock.

"Negan 'm gnna," your own moan cut off your nonsensical, fucked babbles.

"So drunk on my cock," he grunted as he filled you with his seed, not waiting for you to reach your own peak. But he didn't have to since you came right after, arching off the bed. He pulled out and zoomed the camera in on your abused cunt. His cum slowly leaked out of your hole and onto the dark bed spread. That was the perfect place to end the video, he decided.

"Hot damn. Were you a porn star before the world went to shit?"

...

not proofread, sorry! thanks for reading! <3

i uploaded this from my phone, so sorry if it's a bit of a mess.

[f1girliefics]

Only Us

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Warnings: Car crash, injury, broken bones description of possible open fracture

Summary: A simple race, a not so simple crash.

You were excited to see Daniel back on the track, his new contract with the Alpha Tauri team was a good sign.

You were very happy for him.

He wasn't home when the call came.

The person calling from the hospital explained one of his greatest fears over the phone, you were in an accident.

It was late, he should have been home, but as soon as he got the call, he got his keys and left.

“Mr Ricciardo?”

“Yes, who is this?” he asked the woman on the other end of the line.

“My name is Janet Frank calling from St Vincent's Hospital: Emergency Room, you are listed as the emergency contact for Miss Y/L/N.”

“What happened?”

“She was involved in a car accident. She is currently in surgery, but the police here would like to talk to you.” Daniel felt his stomach drop.

“I-I will be right there!”

He arrived about thirty minutes later, out of breath as he ran to the front desk.

“I’m here for Miss Y/L/N.”

“To your right down the hall, take a right, you will see the police there.” 

“Thank you.” he said before he started to walk fast towards the direction he was told.

As he took a right he saw two policemen standing there.

“I’m Miss Y/L/N’s boyfriend.” he told the two officers.

“Mr Ricciardo?” one asked and Daniel nodded. “My name is Sergeant Dwight, this is my partner, Sergeant Dennis. Your girlfriend was in a car accident this early afternoon. A drunk driver rear-ended her, pushed her onto incoming traffic and she was T-boned. She was conscious when we arrived on the scene.”

Daniel thanked the officers and soon rushed to your doctor who explained that you were okay, they needed to do a surgery on your knee because it got broken and trapped. Other than that, you were alright considering the circumstances.

Soon, you were out of surgery and in a room, waking up.

You immediately noticed Daniel by your side, smiling at you as he held your hand, he said something but you couldn’t hear him.

“Don’t move too much.” he said as you groaned in pain when you tried to sit up. “You had a knee surgery.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember. I looked at it in the car and saw the blood and I think my bone was also sticking out.”

“Thank you for the visual.” he made a face and you smiled a little. 

“I’m alright though.” he nodded acknowledging that you were indeed, still alive. Your voice did calm him.

“I nearly fell on poor Yuki when I got the call, he had to jump out of the way.” you laughed a little.

“I’m so high on painkillers right now.” you smiled and Daniel laughed, seeing your expression.

“I’m so glad you are alive.”

“Yeah, but you will have to nurse me, doctor said I can’t walk for months.”

“I am okay with that. At least you won’t leave my sight.”

“I’m okay with that.” you smiled as he laughed a little. He touched your face, his expression turned serious as he looked at you, you could see the weight from his shoulders falling off.

You knew how he was, all smiles as if he had no worries and yet, on the inside he worried all the time. Over his family, over himself and over you.

It was natural to him.

You could only imagine how much it hurt him to see you in a hospital bed with a fucked up knee.

“You couldn’t have done anything different.” you said, trying to reassure him. “Even if you drove me, we would both be now on a bed, and you had important meetings. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I still feel like as if I could have done something.” he said as he looked into your eyes.

“You couldn’t have. It wasn’t our fault. What’s important is that we are both here, alive and happy.”

“You are right.” he let out a long sigh.

You pulled his arm and he moved closer to give you a kiss.

Nothing mattered but the two of you.

You will deal with your knee, you will deal with getting a new car, you will deal with getting the other driver the time they deserve.

For now, it was only you two.

DO NOT STEAL, REUPLOAD OR TRANSLATE!

[juuuulez]

Hi, Jules! I really really LOVE your Capulet series! I was wondering if you could do a little imagine regarding the reader's identity as a Saviour, and the Alexandrian people being against it. Carl being Carl comforts the said reader.

Sidenote, words of affirmation>the rest of the love languages

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, short and sweet, Carl is a cutie, reader is Negan’s daughter.

summary: When it seems everyone is against you, your boyfriend Carl is there to help.

YESSS thank you i hope to be everyone’s #1 writer for saviour reader because i LOOVVE this concept

It had been a rough week.

This whole war-thing was getting a little tiring. Of course, you loved the Saviours, and were grateful to be trusted with responsibility over the group. But some days, it got a little much, until everything started bubbling up and suddenly you’d do something stupid.

Today, that stupid had come in the form of an argument with Dwight. Both of you were stubborn, so it just built and built, until you snapped. You’d threatened him, directly, with the iron once more. It had worked, at the time, but you copped quite the scolding from your father, Negan, about empty threats.

Lack of follow-up made people perceive you as weak, therefore you couldn’t just hand out threats without any intention, no matter how irritating the argument. It wasn’t worth loosing the respect of your followers.

Which, you understood, of course. But then again, you were just a teenager. Sometimes teenagers were stupid, and had a tendency to run their mouths. Yet, you couldn’t be granted this privilege. No, you had to be a good leader, always. There wasn’t any room for errors.

It all came crumbling down in Alexandria, where you’d accompanied a small handful of Saviours to get a specific list of supplies.

Recently, Negan had acquired a new wife, which you chose not to comment on. After all, you didn’t necessarily agree with the tactic, and still held a soft-spot for Lucille. Therefore, you said nothing.

But, you were in need of some new furniture. Half of the supplies had already been acquired from Hilltop, and now you led the team to collect whatever was left from Alexandria.

Your temper was still simmering, quickly becoming exasperated with the slightly snide remarks from those you had to talk to. As usual, they let you through the gates, no longer protesting when you came to retrieve supplies.

But you still knew how much everyone resented you. It was obvious in the way they suddenly became cautious, or, began whispering once more the second you walked past. It was all just getting a bit much.

Thankfully, your boyfriend was like a breath of fresh air.

Figuring the Saviours could handle themselves, you retreated further through the town to find Carl, who was currently watching Judith. The toddler in question laid across a plaid picnic blanket in the grass, messily colouring with some crayons. It made you smile.

As usual, you were quick to sink into Carl’s arms, pleased with the way they fit around you perfectly. “Hey, baby.” He’d mumble into your hair, inhaling the familiar scent of somebody he loved.

“Rough day?” He would ask, immediately, sensing that something was off simply by the prolonged hug. You’d simply nod, head pressed against the bare skin of his neck, needing the contact to last a little longer in order to forget about everything.

A small moment of peace came easily, for you settled down next to Judith, watching her colour. Carl rested against your side, an arm still draped over you, similarly enjoying the moment you shared with his sister.

It was touching, knowing that despite everything, despite who you were, you held respect and admiration for his family. The people important to him. Maybe it was a soft spot, children, or maybe you just genuinely wished to indulge in this part of Carl’s life.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last too long.

Moments later, and Rick had returned, a watchful eye immediately cast on you three.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He asked, suspicion laced in his tone. “Like, making sure your men don’t overstay their welcome? I expect them gone. Soon.”

Because that’s what you are. A leader, an extension of your father. You have a responsibility here.

“Yeah, yeah.. I’ll get onto it.” You agree, brows furrowed in an unconscious look of discontent. After all, God forbid you have a moment of relaxation.

To add salt to the wound, Rick decides to take Judith, too. The girl quietly fussed over leaving the crayons behind, but otherwise goes without too much complaint. Leaving behind you, and Carl. Oh, and a sour taste in your mouth.

You must have been visibly glaring, as within seconds, Carl’s touch has returned. His hand gently runs down the expanse of your back, fingertips lightly scratching over the material of your shirt.

“He’ll come around. I’ll make sure.” Carl claims, a certain amount of certainty in his voice. The declaration catches your attention, looking back at your boyfriend with furrowed brows.

You sigh, “I can hardly imagine Rick warming up to me.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he gets to treat you like—“

“Like a criminal?” You cut him off, giving Carl a pointed look, one that conveys how this whole situation has made you feel. It’s enough that being a Saviour is so demanding, but now you’re not even permitted the slightest amount of downtime.

Carl leans down, peppering your shoulder with little kisses. Its so, so sweet, how he’s trying to make you feel better. “Maybe. But I love you, so he’ll realise that eventually, you aren’t going anywhere.”

The sentiment causes you to finally smile, tilting your head to look at Carl. “You love me?”

“Of course,” He confirms, arms wrapped snugly around your waist, nose still nudging at the skin of your neck, “What’s not to love?”

Just like that, nothing else matters. You’re more than happy right there, cuddling up with Carl, laying in the sun. The Saviours are left to their own devices, some of them making the trip back home early, as you spend the rest of the afternoon letting your boyfriend tell you everything that he loves about you.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Warnings: implied assault and sexual assault (no super detailed description, but this drabble references some traumatizing shit—please read with care), coercive control, frightening scenarios and imagery, Protective!Negan

You were already trembling before you stepped across the threshold and the sight of Negan and his bat did nothing to ease your panic.

"Dwight, um, said y—you wanted to see me?" you managed to squeak out.

Negan finished oiling Lucille and looked up at you. His expression was serious and you marked the lack of the usual cocky smirk with another electric jolt of panic. He eyed you carefully, standing and letting his hazel eyes linger over every bit of you. The bruise on the side of your face didn't go unnoticed, nor did the cut by your eyebrow. You gulped nervously. "Mopping? Is that the shit they've got you doing for points right now?" he asked, gesturing to the mop in your hand.

You only nodded and avoided his gaze. What the fuck was happening? Why were you here?

"For fuck's sake, you are worth way more than that. I really wish you'd take me up on my proposal," he said, almost vaguely, pacing toward you. He seemed to realize you were shaking and his brow furrowed. "Oh, fuck me. You probably think I'm about to do something horrible to you, don't you? Relax, doll. You aren't in trouble. Quite the opposite. Everybody always thinks being asked to come see the big bad wolf is a death sentence. Admittedly, nine times out of ten, they're right. But not you." Negan watched your expression muddy with confusion. "I heard something," he said, scratching at his beard thoughtfully, "from some of my men. And if it's true something needs to be fucking done about it."

You were still staring down at the floor and his finger curled under your chin and gently tilted it until you met his eyes again. "There we are," he said softly. "You've got beautiful eyes, doll. Don't hide those babies from anybody, especially not me." His finger left its place under your chin, but you held his gaze. "You want to tell me what happened two days ago out back?"

Your stomach dropped. "N—nothing. Nothing happened." Even as you answered, you could feel the way that man had grabbed you and pinned you against the fence with his body as you walked back from dropping a load of trash into the dumpster. You could feel his roaming hands and hear his careless laugh echoing in your head as you begged him to stop, as you tried to resist. The growls of walkers on the other side of the fence had slowly grown louder; danger behind you and danger in front. Just as their grasping fingers would almost have you, that man, the soldier, would rip you away and slam you back again further along the fence. You'd disconnected yourself from what had happened then—disassociated. If you hadn't, you would have thrown your body to the infected yourself.

"Really?" Negan's eyes searched yours. "Because you're shaking again," he said softly, his gaze darkening. "How did you get that bruise?" You didn't answer. "Listen to me—if what I heard happened, did happen, then somebody needs to fucking pay for it."

You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn't get any of the words out for a long moment. Part of you wanted him to pay. Part of you wanted to watch Negan cave in his fucking head with his bat. Part of you had already imagined it. But the rest of you (despite your situation and despite this world) wasn't cruel, wasn't cold, and perhaps, stupidly even, didn't want the man to die that way for what he'd done. Pay? Yes. But die viciously in pure terror and guaranteed agony? No... maybe you were soft. Probably you were soft. "I don't know what you heard, I'm sorry. But—" you shook your head. "Nothing happened. I don't know what you're talking about."

But Negan wasn't buying it and he sighed heavily. "Please don't lie to me, doll. Because I'm pretty sure I already know exactly what the fuck happened. I just need confirmation from you before I deal out some violent justice." He lowered his voice to a near whisper. "What did he do to you? You don't even sound like you anymore."

Your wide eyes flooded suddenly with tears and you felt your body revolt against the lie you were trying to maintain. The best you could do was to not crumple to the floor and not sob aloud.

"Ah, shit," Negan swore. You were shocked when he pulled you in against him the next moment, pressing you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. "It's alright. It'll be alright. I'll take care of it. He's a fucking dead man walking..." You felt his hand smoothing over your hair, tucking you nearly into the crook of his neck and marveled at how strange it was to be offered comfort and safety by this man, who so often haunted your dreams. "Fuck, I'm so sorry. He's a fucking dead man." His teeth clenched and the muscle in his jaw twitched. The only thing left was to devise the man's brutal end. "You're done working for a while," Negan said, his voice strangely soft again. "Come with me and I'll get you settled safe up here for a while... Don't worry about a damn thing."

Prompt: "What did he do to you? You don't sound like you anymore."

[sailoryooons]

Trick or Treat! Skittles + Dwight Schrute + Beetle Juice

I an excited to see where this ends up 🫡

❀ Pairing: Hoseok x (gn) reader 

❀ Summary: A chance encounter at a Halloween party reveals someone you thought you’d never find. 

❀ Word Count: 827

❀ Genre: Soulmates, strangers to something, chance meeting

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Depicted scenes in a large crowd that can be a little claustrophobic, a little bit of anxiety, that’s about it! 

❀ Published: October 16, 2023

❀ A/N: WELCOME TRICK OR TREATER! For your skittles, Dwight Schrute costume and Beetle Juice movie, you have been awarded Hoseok at a costume party with a soulmates trope!! I tried to actually write this as a very whimsical and sweeping but I don’t know that it worked rjodigjdoigj I hope you enjoy!! 

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests |

It starts with a brush of skin. 

Such an innocent, quick thing. Just the knocking of hands as the dance floor surges, pushing people together before pulling them apart like schools of fish. Normally, you wouldn’t think twice about someone’s hand knocking into yours. 

This time it's different. 

A hand knocks into yours, sending a bolt of electricity up your arm. You turn your head sharply, looking for the source of the sudden bolt of energy. There’s a press of people in costumes and masks, a whorl of colors and faces and creatures. 

Dark eyes catch yours for the briefest moment and it feels like the rest of the world fades away. Gone is the giant Halloween party in the middle of a massive club. Gone is the music and the swaying bodies, the sweaty crowd and the pointed limbs slamming into you as people go by.

Something slides into place. A key to a lock, a piece to a puzzle. You’d thought you had been operating at a hundred percent before, but this is entirely new. Suddenly, you cannot imagine life without this person, this touch against your hand. Only now do you realize you’re complete. 

It’s just you and him. His face is hidden by a mask but his eyes are endless pools of dark, so captivating that you think you could tip over and fall into them forever without complaint. 

He clasps your hand for a moment and you grip his back. Your fingers feel warm where they grip his skin, your breathing uneven as your heart rate speeds up. His grip is desperate and intoxicating, your skin buzzing where your touch meets.

People knock into you sharply and your grip slips. You gasp, surging forward to find that hand again, the one that you know you are destined to hold. 

You feel empty without his touch. Panic seizes you as you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to find him. You shove at the people next to you, trying to push back toward him. The crowd is thick and the lights are dizzying, spinning your thoughts out of control.

Your heart beats wildly, your pulse throbbing in your neck. Blood rushes in your ears as you slip between two werewolves fist-pumping, careful not to let them step on your toes. You finally manage to make it where you think you saw your masked stranger, but he isn’t there.

Spinning in a circle, you look for him. Helpless. Lost. 

You have to find him - need to find him. You chase that spark between you, trying to remember what it felt like just moments before it was taken away. Shoving through the crowd, you look for him. Your stranger in the mask. Your soulmate. You’re so sure of it. 

A soulmate is a rare thing. So rare that they’re coveted members of society now, almost a fable. You’ve dreamed of having a soulmate since you were little but never believed you would find one. Never thought that you, of all the millions of people in the world, would be promised another person. 

Someone just for you. 

Now, you search for him all over, driven by the need to see him again. To hold his hand. To know his name. His eyes haunt you, so dark and clear and beautiful. 

Someone grabs your arm. You turn around ready to yell at them and shake them off - don’t they know you have a soulmate to find? 

But your words die in your throat as you face a masked man with dark eyes. Your pulse quickens and he slides his hand from your elbow to your fingers. The skin-on-skin contact ignites and you shiver, a sense of safety rippling through you. 

Suddenly, it feels like you have two heartbeats. Two bodies. Two minds. You stare up at him, a smile slowly curling your lips as you breathe out shakily, twining your fingers with his. Feeling how tangible and solid he is, how real and warm and alive. 

Carefully, you reach up with your other hand to pull away the Halloween mask to reveal your soulmate. 

He is ethereal. Golden boy, woven with threads of light and dark. He watches you, a careful expression on his face as you drink in the slender, elegant slope of his nose, the delicate curve of his cheekbones, the gentle bow of his mouth. He is beautiful and glowing like the sun is trapped inside of him, begging to be let out. 

Your fingers brush his jaw. He shivers under your touch, leaning into it, his eyes fluttering shut. No one pays any attention to the two of you, holding steadfast in a chaotic body of dancers. When he opens his eyes, he smiles. Enchanted. 

“Hi,” he breathes, voice sweet and warm like a fire on an autumn day. “I’m Hoseok.” 

“Hi.”

“I think you might be my soulmate.”

You grin. “I think that I am.” 

His grip on you tightens. “My soulmate.”

[tamelee]

I love the way you write, you're so articulate, I wish I could write like that 😭 I'm guessing you get good grades in school? Do you have advice on how to write articulately and clearly while also sounding professional? Like in essay writing?

Huuuu, that’s very kind of you 🥹;-; I’d never imagine anyone saying that to me… ever. 

Well, my grades are good, I have my last exams soon ^^

I do have a few tips! Or rather, there are things I’m still currently learning that may be helpful to you as well📝: 

(Sentence) Structure: I read a book called ‘elements of style’ by William Strunk (revised edition) recently and I learned that no matter how grammatically correct your sentences are, there are still ways to improve its structure. (I had to learn it all over again in English -.-) This is a big topic so I'll name a few specifics you can dive into.

Learn the difference between active and passive voice (passive isn’t bad and sometimes necessary, but active is almost always preferred). Don’t mind all this on your first draft though. It’ll only hinder you.

Study MRU (motivation-reaction units), often used in Fiction writing, but it helped me for essays as well. It is the logical pattern of cause and effect introduced by Dwight V. Swain and I read about it in 'techniques of the selling writer'. Here's an article on the topic as well.

Mind paragraphs. There are different rules for this depending on what you’re writing, but it helps its readability. For Essays especially it’s always good to keep topics separate and lead the reader to your conclusion in a way that makes sense. (It's sorta like holding their hand and going like "because of this... there is this... and therefore... and so.... that's why....") This may need some reorganizing of your premises/subjects at times. I especially need to organize my thoughts before I even start writing.  

Understand what it is that you need to write about and delete everything that isn’t relevant. If you’re like me and you get a ton of new ideas once you delve into a subject, then it’s good to keep a folder (or something similar) for these new ideas. Often these are entire topics on its own and including these into another will only make both unclear and your conclusion muddy. So, ask yourself whether it strengthens your point, or if it’ll make it more confusing. If it won’t make a difference then delete it anyway or save it in your folder for later.  

I always learned that objectivity is important in order to sound professional, though it depends on the kind of essay you’re writing. If you need to convince the reader of something then transparency about your own opinions can help your conclusion be more honest, but be careful of sounding preachy as well. I had to learn all these things when I still studied marketing/communication in entertainment, but it often makes me feel slimy because it’s all very manipulative. (Hence, I quit that path.) It's in fiction as well. Some authors let their own views bleed through their characters in such a way it becomes uncomfortable because it doesn’t argue for the story nor adds to the character— it attacks the reader’s personal morals which possibly gives them an ass-spanking while they’re at it which just really isn’t necessary. Emotional language is fine I think. Sometimes I got compliments from teachers especially because I didn't sound too professional, it requires a bit of knowledge when you can get away with it probably. Just make sure you can back up your arguments/statements and possibly add different views as well. In a way it's more about the confidence in which you present an idea than sounding professional and not being able to understand all the 'why's' I believe.

This one isn't that relevant for school-essays, but sometimes when writing one the question isn't clear. It helps both you and the reader to reformulate it in the beginning. Essays as well as stories are often nothing more than a problem you need to give an answer to. Even if there's no question, it helps to make one anyway so you don't wander off endlessly and drown in a sea of possible subjects you could write about.

Something that may help you as well— I created a roadmap for myself and the different types of things I have to write. That way I always know what to do first and it helps me structure both the essay and my process as I can get easily distracted otherwise. Making more decisions than necessary makes me freeze up, but with a roadmap I don’t have to do either.

Uuh, I've probably picked up on tons of helpful things lately, but I think these are great to start with. I hope they are helpful to you.

I always wanted to (story-)write, but gave up on it and decided to learn how to draw instead. Then, I sort of realized that I was being an idiot, because that desire never left and I had to write other things anyway— like this for example, and simply accepting the fact that no one can understand the load of incomprehensible rubbish I wrote, just wouldn’t do. You can check my older posts… it’s awful. If I ever intentionally want to give myself another headache, I’ll go and read those. 

It’s definitely not perfect now, but hopefully I improved though. I think so. Sometimes I still get scolded as I tend to ping-pong between thoughts suddenly and I can hardly tell the difference between BrE/AmE. (As I grew up I learned English mostly through a sort-of-aunt figure from Canada that always forced me to watch British tv with her.) But, the past few months I especially had to write many essays and (argumentative) case studies so I decided to learn and become better in writing. If that translated back to Tumblr then I'm happy and you’ve made my day >< 

[theoffice-imagines]

Dwight’s prank

Pairing: David Wallace x reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @ricflairdrip20

Request: prompt # 23 & #29

***

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always been the one who had been the most hurt by those who thought you could call your “friends.”

One of the things that has attracted you to David Wallace is the fact that he was a good listener to anyone who needed an ear to trust. Though he hasn’t listen to you yet, he was more than willing to. Seemingly more than willing to do it and when he took notice in how you seem down one day, that was when he decided he was going to walk up and talk to you.

David stopped halfway, his tongue had gone dry as he couldn’t form the words he wanted to say to you. He always chooses his words wisely when it comes to talking to someone, but now he realizes it’s when he’s about to walk up and talk to you. Finally, something in mind had come up and he started to speak, but he spoke in a soft voice that you almost missed it. It was surprising to say the least, it spooked you as were deep in thought and you never get spooked, that wasn’t like you at all.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks softly, causing you to jump.

You deny the fact there was anything wrong at all.. well, at first.

As eerie as this may sound, David Wallace had been noticing you better than noticing anyone else in the office. David didn’t mean to do it, he was just so taken by your beauty that he couldn’t help but to keep an eye on you. Before you could speak to even try to deny things, David noticed as he looked closer that you seemed to be short of breath and and sweating as if you had just come back from running a marathon. Seeing you in this condition is where his concern for you grew even more than it already had. You said nothing as David takes the empty spot next to you as he asked you again, a bit differently this time.

“What’s happened? Did something happen?”

You don’t respond at first, but than decide it was best to be honest with him and so you told David why you were looking so upset and how your day had been going so far. You didn’t want to get anyone in trouble, but you felt you had no choice this time and called that person out to David as you begin explaining.

David wasn’t too pleased to say the least after hearing your story and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“You know that weight loss competition we’re doing?”

David nods as you continue.

“Well, Dwight thought it would be funny to trick me into thinking I’m helping him out with a new client and what does he do? Well he drops me off at an abandoned warehouse in a bad part of town and left with my purse as well as my phone.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.. but don’t worry! I’m okay, I wasn’t before but now I am.”

David sighed.

“Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not.”

“I’m not pretending-“

“Yes you are!”

Before you could say another word, David storms away and you know exactly where he’s headed.

So you follow him.

Once you got to the office, David walks up to Dwight and interrupts his phone call. Dwight immediately gets defensive and even more so when David confronts him of what he did to you.

“Let’s make this the last time I hear of this!”

“Oh come on..”

“You left her in a bad part of town, Dwight!”

“So? I took her purse what’s the big deal?”

“It is a big deal, Dwight!”

“She burned calories walking back here-“

“That’s not how healthy weight loss workout!”

David had to pull himself out of there as he was close to losing it, you followed. Once he had calmed down enough after the events of defend/protecting you, he turns towards you and says only one thing.

“You don’t deserve to be treated that way. You deserve so much better, (Y/n).”

***

@theoffice-imagines

[rosielou94]

Hii, maybe some imagine for Dwight Manfredi?

Hi :) I hope the below is ok for you. I've imagined what it would be like to go on a first date with Dwight.

I really enjoyed writing this so thank you so much for the suggestion! Please let me know if you'd like me to write more :) I feel like this man is vastly underrated and it's a crime!

Warnings: none, just fluff and Dwight being a teddy bear, a kiss at the end, possibly some allusion to something smutty at the end...

A/N: I had way too much fun writing this. I've also based the title on the Etta James song, because it's my favourite song in the whole world and I feel like Dwight would enjoy listening to her music.

At Last - First Date: Dwight Manfredi x Fem!Reader

Dwight arrives at 7pm on the dot; the exact time he said he’d pick you up from your apartment. You answer the door, taking in his tall, muscular, broad frame. He has a new light grey suit on, the crisp fabric a beautiful contrast to his tanned skin and deep brown eyes. His grey hair is lightly gelled, and the smell of his expensive woody cologne makes your head spin. You’d always thought Dwight was good looking, but seeing him standing in your doorway, a bouquet of freshly cut flowers clutched in his thick, calloused hands, your breath is taken away.

You head out into the Tulsa summer evening, smiling as Dwight holds open the passenger side door of his car for you. Soft 60’s soul is playing on the radio, and the car smells of clean leather and pine scented air freshener (courtesy of Tyson, who'd had the car valeted especially). You can tell Dwight is nervous as he starts the engine, making small talk about traffic and the hot weather. “Its, uh, it’s been a while since I’ve done this,” he smiles sheepishly, his silhouette outlined by the burnt orange of the setting sun. “You’re doing great so far.” You return his smile and lightly touch his arm.   “Oh yeah?” His hand moves to your lap to find yours, gently giving it a squeeze. A delicious bolt of excited electricity fizzes through you at his touch. He holds your hand as he drives, the gesture appearing to put him at ease.

When you arrive at the restaurant, Dwight pulls out your chair and you sit, smiling at the chivalry and tenderness of such a small, but meaningful gesture. He sits opposite, reaching for your hand across the table. You stay like this as you peruse the menu, his thumb tracing delicate circles across your skin. “You look beautiful, by the way,” he says, his eyes full of affection as they take you in. The waiter comes to take your order, and Dwight orders a bottle of wine. You clink your glasses together and take a sip, the sweet, bold flavours coating your tongue.

You chat for hours as you sip wine, and eat the most delicious meal you’ve ever had. Dwight tells you about his past in New York, regaling you with stories of his time managing bars and clubs in Brooklyn. He makes you laugh, harder than you ever think you’ve laughed before. he asks you about yourself, you family and your hobbies. In this moment, you’re his entire world. Nothing else matters to him and he could never grow tired of listening to you, of watching the way your cheeks dimple as you smile, the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about your passions. In all his life, Dwight is sure he’s never seen anything as beautiful as you.

You’re the last two diners to leave the restaurant, only doing so because you see the waiters closing up around you, eager to be heading home. You could have stayed there all night. As you step outside, the temperature has dropped and you shiver involuntarily. Dwight takes off his suit jacket, draping it carefully around your shoulders. You smile, grateful for the warmth, the smell of him enveloping you in a delicious haze of cologne, wine and soap. He opens the car door for you, and you let your hand graze against his as you slide into the seat, feeling him shiver against your touch. Your eyes meet, and you smile, in awe of how unsure this usually unwavering man appears; did he want to kiss you? You definitely wanted to kiss him, but you wanted to make sure you hadn’t read the signals wrong, in case you ended up embarrassing yourself.

The journey home seems to take no time at all. You pray that you hit every red light on the road, so you can spend just a little more time in Dwight’s company. “At Last” by Etta James in playing on the radio, and you can’t help but think how perfectly the words fit. You’ve waited your whole life for a man light Dwight, and now he’s less than 2 feet away from you. His hand finds yours in the darkness of the car, and you squeeze it, hoping the gesture will show Dwight how much you’ve enjoyed yourself tonight.

You pull up outside your apartment, and Dwight turns the car off. “I had a great time,” he said, “thank you.” “Thank you,” you smiled, “I’d love to it again sometime.” You both exit the car, and stand silently on the sidewalk, neither of you wanting to end things here, but neither of you wanting to appear too forward. “Well,” Dwight said, “I should get b-“ “Kiss me, Dwight,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence and surprising yourself at how bold you’re being. Dwight doesn’t need telling twice. His large hands softly cup your cheeks, his eyes staring into yours with such sweetness, such tenderness that you think your heart might explode. “I’ve not done this for 25 years,” he whispers, his nerves evident in his slightly shaking voice. “It’s ok, I’ll teach you.” You laugh softly as his lips meet yours. The kiss is gentle at first, as your wrap your arms around his neck, snaking your hands into his thick grey hair. Dwight sighs quietly against your lips, pulling you in to his chest. You can feel his broad, taut muscles straining against his shirt and suddenly you’re desperate to have him back in your apartment. “Come upstairs?” you breath, gasping as Dwight's hands drift down from your cheeks, across your neck, collarbone and lightly over your breasts. “If you’re sure,” he said, his voice hoarse with longing. “I wouldn’t want to impose.” “You could never,” you smile, taking Dwight by the hand and leading him up the stairs to your home.  

[zuleyhasposts]

Stand By Your Man (Negan/Reader)

Chapter Fourteen - Abduct.

In reality what Negan wanted to do was checking you, but he knew he couldn’t do it. He hated the idea of Simon being the one, once again, to stay closer to you. He had to fix whatever this fight was about, so he reached his room where he found Marika and Dwight waiting for him.

Dwight had a neutral look on his face, this wasn’t something new for him. Especially after he experienced that on his skin. The younger girl instead, Marika, was scared. She probably didn’t expect Negan to react to them both in that way, she thought he could have taken it as a tantrum or something not that serious. She was wrong. She cussed Sherry in her mind, for not telling her that angry Negan was scary and he could punish in some terrible ways.

He gestured to the man that he could go, finally leaving Negan and Marika alone in the room. He sat in front of her.

“What the hell happened?” He was angry and she could feel it, she couldn’t stop from trembling.

“She started! Did you see how she started to beat me? I mean, look at my face.” She almost screamed while she pointed her finger to the black eye you caused. For a second, Negan almost wanted to chuckle and to tell Marika that you always had those beach ball sized lady nuts.

He didn’t have any doubts from the start, he actually knew that you didn’t start shit. He was wondering why he was still wasting his time by hearing lies.

“I can fucking see what she did,” he said, “but don’t fucking lie to me. Tell me what really happened.”

Marika gulped, feeling like a thief being caught up. “I will tell you, only if you answer me first.”

“Not happening.” He could only imagine what she wanted to ask him. “Now, fucking explain.”

“I started it.” Marika finally admitted. She understood that lying could only make things worse and she didn’t want to finish on Negan’s bad side.

Negan looked at her, waiting for her to keep explaining.

“IーI wanted to provoke her because…” she bit her lip, “because I was jealous of her. I wanted to be seen in the same way you always look at her.”

Negan knew that it was obvious his interest for you, but not that obvious from others’ points of view. He missed you and every time he saw you, he had to be careful because he almost couldn’t control his eyes from not gluing themselves over you.

“What did you tell her?” He sighed.

Marika looked everywhere to avoid his eyes. She knew that what she was about to say would make him angrier, but she had no choice.

“I asked her if she could give me some advice about catching your attention andー” she stopped herself for a second, “and I told her she was the only one who could have helped me because she was one of your whores.”

“You told her what?!” Negan stood up with a raging expression on his face. He didn’t expect himself to feel so protective towards you.

Marika’s eyes started to get watery, her whole body trembling. “I’m so sorry, Negan! Please, believe me, I didn’t know you liked her so much! It wasn’t even my idea, it was Sherry’s.”

Negan started to walk around his room, while his hand was in his hair. He pissed off again and it was thanks to Sherry, again.

“Get out.” He said, without turning around to look at her.

She stood up, walking toward the door and sobbing with every step she took. Before her hand could reach the handle, she spoke again.

“She really cares about you,” she said, with the tears still falling on her face, “and I’m sure she needs you now. I envy her because she actually has someone caring for her and it’s you.”

She left, leaving Negan with a feeling similar to being punched right in the face. He hated from the start the idea of seeing you crying and yet he made you cry so much. That night, Negan accepted the reality: he only wanted to be around you, no matter what.

He waited a moment before getting out of his room to reach yours.

Marika walked back to her room, while she finally calmed down. She was glad that Negan didn’t kill her at that moment, but she couldn’t lie to herself that she was still somehow afraid for her life.

Her gaze was fixed on the floor, until she had to turn to see who grabbed her arm. It was Sherry. The look on her face was shocking, not expecting to see the black eye and little scratches on Marika’s face.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Do you ask me what happened?! This is the result of your idea, I hope you’re happy with it.” She started to walk again but Sherry stopped her right there.

“I’m so sorry, Iー” words stopped in her throat, almost if they wanted to suffocate her, “I didn’t expect she would have reacted like that. What did you say to her?”

Marika blushed, not wanting to tell Sherry what actually she called you. Noisy as she was, the entire Sanctuary would have known and she didn’t want everybody to discover what happened.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” She said with an annoyed expression, “Just leave me alone, Sherry! And also leave them alone too, how would you feel to not be with the guy you love?”

She watched Marika giving her one last annoyed look before leaving her. She wanted to tell her that she had experienced being separated from the man you love, but she didn’t have the time.

Sherry thought about you and Negan, thinking that it was the best thing to leave you alone and to focus again on Dwight. She felt so stupid because, even if she missed him, she still put all of her attention to Negan, without realizing that she could have survived anyway without him because Dwight would have protected her.

She knew she had to apologize to you, she only needed the right moment to do so.

────────────────────

You wanted to break everything in your room but Simon’s presence stopped it from the start. You were forced to sit on the bed while he cleaned the blood from your face, making you surprised to see how careful he could be.

“It burns.” You said while he was still cleaning the little wounds that Marika made.

“I can fucking bet it does, sweet cheeks.” Simon answered without caring how much you started to complain. “Can you tell me again, in detail, what the hell happened between you both? If I had a phone, I wouldn’t have thought twice to record everything.”

You laughed, but then you regretted it immediately because of the pain on your face. “I told you, she started the mess.”

Simon was putting a few patches on your face. “But why? What did she fucking told you?”

You sighed, looking at how Simon’s hands worked on your face. “She said she wanted advice from me because apparently I was one of Negan’s whore.” Simon couldn’t stop himself from laughing at your face. “She called you what?”

“I won’t fucking repeat it again,” you smiled at him, “but you can tell that I teached her some respect.”

“You gave her quite a black eye, I have to admit that.”

There was a moment of silence before you decided to talk again. “Do you think he will punish me?”

Simon crossed his arms, thinking. “If you mean as a punish something that could hurt you, I’m fucking sure he won’t, but expect him to have a long conversation with you. You are lucky that you are Negan’s exception. I don’t think I would have the same treatment.” You looked away. You knew that Simon was right: you were Negan’s exception and a lot of times he demonstrated it. You always wondered what would have changed if you were someone else, probably you would have been dead already.

“You’re right, I’m lucky.”

Simon decided to keep to himself what he and Negan talked about. He knew you weren’t in the mood to hear how Negan accused Simon of taking advantage of your distance to get closer to you.

“I’ll leave you now, I’m sure you want to take some time for yourself.”

You only nodded, as you watched Simon leaving you alone in your room once again. Your mind couldn’t stop itself from thinking what you should say to Negan. The first thing was to explain what happened between you and Marika, hoping that he didn’t take her words as the only truth.

You stood up from the bed, approaching the mirror. The reflection showed a tired and wounded woman. You expected everything from the apocalypse, but this wasn’t even on the list. It made you laugh because somehow it tasted like normal life.

You touched your face lightly, being careful to the spots where Simon put the patches. For a moment, it felt like you were able to feel the changes through your skin. You were changing and you didn’t know if it was a good thing or not.

Edward waited for Simon to leave your room and be distant enough to disappear around one of the corners. He double checked the corridor, being sure that no one would have seen him. He felt almost grateful that you and the other girl had this “fight” very late, it would have made his plan go smoothly.

The grip around the iron bar he found became stronger. He could feel the sweat forming between his hands. He breathed deeply, knowing that he was sure about what he wanted to do.

He swallowed and opened the door of your room quietly, as if it was never closed. Edward saw you so focused on the mirror in front of you that you didn’t notice his presence.

When he got closer enough and you turned around to see who it was, it was too late to react. The iron bar hit your head. Not enough to kill you but enough to lose consciousness and fall on the ground.

Edward felt the adrenaline in his body reaching the maximum peak, his heart ready to explode due to its frenetic pump. He put the iron bar on the ground, knowing that he couldn’t clean the blood around it and on the floor. He knew that someone could get in and he had to be faster.

He took your body and put it on his shoulder. He finally felt for once the main protagonist of his own life. He checked again the corridors to see if there was someone around. When he was sure that the path he studied for this plan was clear, he didn’t think twice to go.

When Negan finally reached your room, his expression twisted in a confused one when he noticed the open door. He knew you enough to tell that you were always the type to lock your door, in any case.

When he got in, his expression hardened. You weren’t there. It didn't take long enough for him to notice the floor and the iron bar stained with blood.

“What the hell fucking happened here?” He asked while he grabbed the bar in his hand.

He didn’t know what to think and the thoughts that were forming in his mind weren’t good.

He left your room and looked around the corridor, before calling for Simon. The man didn’t take much to appear, he wasn’t sleeping.

“What happened? Why are you fucking screaming at this hour?” Simon asked.

“Where fucking is she? And why the hell is in her room a fucking stained of blood iron bar?” His voice was angry because he was feeling concerned.

Simon looked confused at the iron bar, and became even more confused when he saw the blood on the floor. “I don’t know. I disinfected her face and left. I don’t know where this shit comes from.”

“Check every single room on the Sanctuary if it’s needed,” Negan said before leaving Simon, “I don’t fucking care if everyone is asleep. I’ll go and see if someone saw her.”

He hoped it was one of your stupid ideas, something that you would have done to make him angry. Negan didn’t want anything to happen to you.

───────────────────────────────────────────

AO3 Link:

[bobbyseyesmile]

Pride and Passion | 3

Chapter 3

⤝ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⤞ ➻ Pride and Passion masterlist

Three weeks.

You had counted the days and made a small scratch in the wall for every day that had passed. For three weeks no one, not even a single person, had spoken a word to you.

You were sure that this was Negan’s work and he probably instructed all of his people not to interact with you. After a week you had stopped leaving your room, Dwight brought you three meals a day and left without speaking a single word.

At first it was fine; you could be alone and Negan ignored you but after a week you imagined voices that clearly weren’t there. It was his voice.

A small knock signalized your food was there. You opened the door and stared and the plate on the floor: Chicken breast, peas and a dinner roll. The food at the Sanctuary was far better than in Alexandria. Back there you only had meat if Daryl went out hunting and would be successful- other than that there was canned goods. Most of all canned beans or fruits. It wasn’t the best but it was a source of energy and that was the only thing that mattered.

A few days ago, you heard Negan walking past your room, talking about visiting Alexandria to collect whatever they could’ve found. It worried you a lot. There wasn’t many places you hadn’t already searched; their possibilities were small to find goods for Negan that would satisfy him.

“If I’d be still alive, we would never be in this situation.”

“Shut up, you aren’t real…” you hissed to the voice inside your head.

Since his death he hadn’t ‘visited’ you that often, mostly in your dreams or on sleepless nights when you thought about that one fateful night. You had no choice. You had to kill him. But some days, like today, you heard him loud and clearly like he was standing right next to you.

He wasn’t. He was six feet under and would never come back. Since his death a lot changed, you changed. A lighthearted, naïve and playful teenager turned into a serious grown-up who barely remembered what happiness felt like.

18 years old when you kissed for the first time, 19 when you had sex in the forest and 20 when you blew his brain out. It was your first kill ever, beside walkers, and your last one ever since.

When your dad found his corpse and started sobbing you stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, supporting him through his grieving process. You supported your mother who had a secret affair with him when she still believed her husband had died.

You were there for everyone who loved Shane, even though he was impulsive and stubborn, comforting them while you carried the weight of his death on your shoulders.

You never grieved openly for him. When the group buried him and everyone said some nice last words you just stood there, unable to form a sentence. Your dad gave you a hug, telling you how sorry he was. After the funeral you went in the forest for a walk and puked. You didn’t cry. Not once.

“Y/N! Open up, please.” You got up from your bed and opened the door, not sure if you were imagining it or not. Negan’s right hand, Simon, stood in front of you and gave you a polite smile. “Hi there. It’s your lucky day! Negan wants to see you and I brought a small present too.”

He handed over a simple black box with your name on it. You carefully opened it and realized that it was a dress and some high heels. That can’t be good… “What do I do with this?” you asked, obviously confused.

“You wear it.” Simon answered and looked down on his watch. “You get five minutes.” He closed the door for you and started tapping with his shoes against the floor.

The dress was way too short and tight, the shoes too high. You gave it your best shot but never walked in things like that, stumbling around while Simon supported and held your arm till you finally reached Negan’s bedroom. Simon knocked twice and you heard the approval to come in.

“My god, you look absolutely fucking fantastic, darling!” Negan’s smile widened when his eyes wandered from your body upwards your flustered face. “Don’t be shy doll, or did ya miss me in those three weeks?”

You rolled with our eyes and suddenly noticed another figure in the corner of your eye. Your head turned and stopped at a blonde woman, clothed in the same dress and shoes as you, but her face looked down as if she was staring at her feet.

“Ah, you noticed my beautiful angel?” Negan asked and brushed her long blonde hair back. “Don’t be fucking shy, babygirl, say hello to your new best friend.”

Amber’s eyes met yours and she gave you a quiet "Hello" and a small smile before she looked down again. “What the fuck are you doing with her? Why is she so scared?” The question lingered in your head since you entered the room but you realized that you had spoken it out loud. In front of Negan.

“My my…” Negan casually moved towards your persona and stopped a few inches in front of your face. “Calm the fuck down. I told ya that I hate violence towards women, so why the fuck would I hit my beautiful angel right there?”

“It was you who told me that punishment isn’t always physical.” You didn’t know where all the courage came from to speak to Negan like that, because Amber and Simon were also listening, but you had enough already.

This man wasn’t a god, even if he acted like one. He was just a stupid cult leader. In those three weeks of isolation, you may start losing your mind, hearing your dead boyfriend and talking to yourself, but you never forgot all the things you already went through. In order not to be scared of Negan you remembered the worst thing that you ever witnessed: Terminus.

Nothing was scarier than a bunch of crazy cannibals, trying to kill and eat your dad and friends, trying to rape the women so they would make them new babies and then kill the mothers. You had witnessed it. You would have been one of those women. If it wouldn’t have been for Carol and her brave intervention. So, screw Negan and his cult. Screw all the big bad wolves out there, trying to intimidate your group. You would take them all down.

“Good girl.” Negan whispered and then showed his signature smile. “Today’s a big day for ya, you gonna move, darling. Amber here will escort ya and show ya where all my beautiful wives reside.”

“Wives?” you blurted out. “Plural?” Negan didn’t answer, he just started laughing when Amber grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the room.

Taglist: @toxic-ink @jaywinchestersalvatore @crosshajr

[deadbydangit]

With an injured Reader

Legion (Frank), Dwight, Doctor

Legion (Frank)

"Oh damn babe. You got the shit beat out of you huh?"

If it isn't too bad, he'll ask for the story.

If it's something cool like getting injured in a fight.

"Shit. That's badass."

Lots of hyping up.

If it was an accident.

"Ha, stupid."

But he's teasing.

He's constantly getting hurt, so you're often patching him up.

He doesn't have a lot of room to judge.

If it's really serious, he won't be joking around.

He has three other Legion members willing to help patch you up.

But none of them are doctors.

They need someone qualified to do this.

You have to admire Frank's tenacity and calm in this situation.

He's acting like a leader.

He's actually freaking out, but he doesn't want to risk stressing you.

That would make things worse.

He'll be with you at all times during the mend.

Anything you need, you let him know.

If he doesn't have it, he'll personally go fetch the item while another Legion member watches you.

If someone hurt you things will get way more intense.

The group will wait till you're asleep, then sneak out.

They'll come back covered in enough blood to paint the walls.

"Don't worry baby. They won't be an issue anymore. Right guys?"

No one messes with his s/o.

Dwight Fairfield

You'd think he'd be freaking out.

Like, a full on panic attack.

But he's surprisingly calm.

He's dealt with more injuries in one day than most doctors do in a lifetime.

Patching up others inside or outside trials, he's seen his fair share of blood and gore.

So, no, if you get blood in him, he probably won't even notice it.

If it isn't too bad, he'll patch you up himself.

Dwight wants to hear what happened.

He's very protective of you.

If it's an accident, you can both laugh about it.

"Be more careful next time, clutz."

And he'll kiss your nose.

If something really bad happens, he won't be so calm.

He doesn't know how to deal with this big of an emergency.

He'll be running around both the survivor and killer campfires, begging for help.

Adam and Bill were his best bets.

He's dragging them to you.

"Please! I can't lose them! I love them so much! I can't-"

They'll have to get someone to take him out of the area so they could patch you up.

He'll get you anything you want!

Anything!

And he'll be on you constantly.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? In pain? Do you need a blanket?"

It's kind of overbearing.

But he can't imagine a world without you.

He couldn't bear to live in a world without you.

Doctor

Oh my.

He looks you over with a look of concern and interest.

Well, fortunately for you, Herman Carter just so happens to be a doctor.

It's your lucky day.

Maybe.

He isn't too skilled in the actual healing part.

He's the one who causes the injuries.

But he still has enough knowledge to get you through anything.

He's too proud to ask for help, but if it's life or death, he'll ask Sally for assistance.

He's always checking in your wounds, keeping careful track of the healing process.

Herman also knows how to wrap wounds and can do it with ease.

In short, he knows exactly what he's doing.

"I'm a doctor after all."

He's very proud of that, so just let him have it.

"I'll be right next door in my office. You let me know if you need anything. I'll be back in a few hours to apply more ointment and check in on you."

If someone hurt you, don't be surprised to wake up to their body parts scattered about the room.

"Oh, this? An eye for an eye dear."

Except it isn't.

He just brutally dismembered that person.

But he did it all in the name of love.

[queenvidal]

The Girl Who Never Cries

Negan x Reader (Rick's Daughter)

(Not my gif - found it on pinterest. If it's urs, contact me for proper credit)

Chapter 6: Bad Blood

Chapter Summary: You have to face the punishment for your actions, but it's nothing you could have ever imagined.

Wordcount: 2288

Notes: I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes or wrong spellings, English isn't my first language. - Part 1 of the The One And Only Series - Takes place during the beginning of season 7

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 7 (End)

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

“What were you thinking?” Rick's voice makes you sigh in annoyance. After Daryl brought you to your house and you took a quick shower, your father sat you down at the kitchen table. While he is overjoyed having you and the others back, in one piece even, he’s still angry about what happened at the gate.

“Dad, can you calm down for a moment?” You ask him softly.

But he continues, “They will punish you, Y/N.”

“For what?” Exasperation is clear in your tone. “For laughing?”

Rick throws his arms up in frustration. “Disobedience, Y/N! This will have consequences.”

Loud and feigned laughter escapes you. “Oh, now you are concerned about consequences?”

“That’s nothing to joke about, Y/N-” Rick tries to defend himself, but you won't let him. 

“Dad, for real now, I’ve just laughed. Admittedly at the wrong moment, fine, but so what? I haven’t touched Dwight and Mr. Mustache intervened before anything could have happened.”

Your father sighs in frustration. With his elbows resting on the table, he lays his head in his hands. He is clearly worried and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “I think it would be the best, if you were out with Daryl next time they come for the pick up."

You look at your father in disbelief and you say, “You can’t be serious. If anything, that would only make things worse. I made a mistake, Dad, and I will take responsibility for that.”

“But Negan-”

“Negan won’t kill me for laughing, Dad. He takes me for one if not the most useful scavenger of the community.” Or at least you hope he still does. While he had told you that much, he is still hard to read and predict, especially with how you two parted ways the last time you two spoke.

“If something happens to you, Y/N-”

“It won’t.” You assure him with your hand resting on his arm, “Promised.”

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

In retrospect, you should not have promised anything. The closer the next pickup came, the more you were on edge. All of the confidence you had a week ago dwindled as the days went by and when the all too familiar sound of the trucks settled at the gate, even the smallest rest of it went right out the window.  

With your hand still clinging to the doorknob of the infirmary, you debate whether you should quickly scurry back inside. With your heart rapidly beating against your ribcage you watch the saviors jumping out their vehicles, gathering at the gate. The last time you felt that anxious was the night at the clearing. Giving the circumstances, you might follow Glenn and Ab, somehow you have a feeling you can't really talk yourself out of this one.

Your hands start to sweat as you search the gathering crowd, Negan has yet to appear somewhere. Maybe he isn’t supervising this week's pickup. Simon had to replace him already one time for whatever reason. Maybe it’s going to be the same thing today. No, it’s just wishful thinking and you know that. He won’t miss the chance to punish Alexandria for fucking up. And just as that thought passes your mind, you spot the signature leather jacket of the saviors leader in the crowd. Negan marches through the people, his beloved bat resting against his shoulder. And he looks pissed.

Your stomach churns in response to your rising heart rate. The fight or flight instinct is screaming at you to go back inside, but you force yourself to stay your ground - you are scared but not a coward!

Some of the saviors walk up the street to the pantry, as it is just the routine by now. They eye you with knowing grins on their faces as they pass you by, feeding your anxiety. You watch them making their way, when Negan's voice roars over the place. “Y/N!”

Startled, you look back at him. He stands in the middle of the street with his head high and scowl on his face. He commands you over to him with a wave of his hand. “Get over here. Now!”

His tone of voice doesn’t leave any room for argumentation. With a deep breath, you finally let go of the door and slowly turn towards the street. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins but you try your best to hide it, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with Negan, while your feet carry you forward.

Once standing close enough and in front of the leader of the Saviors, you come to a halt. His eyes are trained on yours, Lucille casually resting in his gloved hand. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see some if not most Saviors stopping in their tracks, eager to watch the scene unfold.

Your father appears on the edge of your peripheral vision but you don’t dare to break eye contact with Negan.

“So,” he starts, his voice slightly quieter now. “Simon brought to my attention that you think orders are something you can ignore and laugh about.”

“I-

“Nope!” He cuts you off immediately and raises Lucille to point at you for a brief moment. ”No talking - you’ll listen!”

You worry the edge of your lips with your teeth, your nerves slowly getting the better of you as you endure Negan's glare.

“You know, I thought you understood the message I delivered when we first met, but maybe I was wrong, which for your sake I hope I am not.”

“No, I-”

“Cause if I am and you actually don’t give a shit about our previously so smooth working relationship, I’m gonna have you receive the message yet again. Maybe you forgot about who is in charge now.”

“I don’t query your authority or the one of your men.”

Negan narrows his eyes at you. “Yet you laughed when receiving direct orders from one of my top guys.”

“I laughed because he threatened me with a knife.” It was a pathetic attempt to scare you and shut you up. Just like the first time Dwight tried that on you, when he so miserably failed to kill you in the woods.

Negan studies your face for a moment and leans against the hood of the parked car behind him. “Thing is, I like you and it would be moronic of me to go too hard on you. After all, you did gather an insane ass load of stuff for me in the past few weeks. But I also can’t let shit like this slide, which begs the question now,” He pauses for a long moment, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. ”What should I do with you?”

You clasp your wet hands together, trying to at least appear calmer than you actually feel and after a quiet moment, you respond, “Whatever you see fit.”

Negan scratches his beard, deep in thought. The longer the silence streaches on, the harder your heart beats within your chest. Suddenly, Negan turns his head around and calls over his shoulder. “Hey, D!”

Your eyes snap to Dwight, who approaches you two with way too much confidence for your liking. Like one of the boys in kindergarten who tells on the other kids to gain the teacher's approval. Pathetic.

“Dwighty-Boy, what do you think?” Negan's nickname for that asshole almost makes you throw up. “I can’t go too hard on her for several reasons. But she sure as hell needs a reminder that you’re someone she has to respect.”

Dwight casts you a creepy smile. “Well, maybe not too hard on her, but she wasn’t alone.”

No! You can feel all the color drain from your face and your heart sinking into your boots.

“Right,” Negan says, his attention and eyes back at you. “You had a friend.”

“Daryl has nothing to do with this!” You reply while fighting your voice from faltering. You remind Dwight, “That’s something between you and me.”

Dwight snarls back, “He disobeyed as well.”

“Because of me!” You almost shout, anxiety tightening up the knots in your abdomen. If not for Daryl, you would have stabbed Dwight. “I was the one laughing at y-”

“He’s just as-”

BANG!

Both of you jump at the sound of Lucille hitting the car with enough force to bash a serious bulge into the metal. “Enough of this petulant fucking bullshit!” Negan's patience is running out.

“Since you two are acting like fucking kids, we’re gonna settle this like fucking kids.” Negan waves at you for you to come closer. “Y/N, you're gonna apologize to Dwight and better make it sound genuine.”

With eyebrows knit together in confusion, your eyes switch between Negan and Dwight. “What?”

“Now.” Negan urges, looking at you somewhat expectant.

Baffled by Negan’s strange idea of a solution, you turn to face Dwight, who seems to be just as unhinged. “I am sorry for the disobedience and the inappropriate laughter afterwards. It won't happen again.”

Negan turns his head towards Dwight, waiting for a response.

Dwight glances at him for a split second, before looking back at you. “Good.”

Negan pushes himself from the hood. “Now shake hands like goddamn adults, so we can move the fuck on."

You both raise your hands for a handshake, albeit the mutual aversion.

Once both of you let your hands fall back to your sides, Negan claps his hands together, his signature smile back in place. “Now that this shit’s out of the world, let's get back to business.”

You and Dwight look at each other in equal confusion as Negan swaggers away towards the pantry, whistling his usual melody.

What the hell just happened?

Dwight takes a step closer to you, his voice quiet enough to only reach your ears. “I’ll get you killed and then I'm gonna kill Daryl.”

You look back at him with narrowed eyes and with an unreasonable amount of venom in your voice you reply, ”I can’t wait to see you try.” 

Dwight just scoffs at you before he takes off, slithering back to the side of his boss like the sad worm that he is. 

The crowd around you starts to dissolve again. Taking this as your sign of finally being dismissed, you hurry past everyone to get down the street and back inside of the infirmary. 

Once the door is closed behind you, you try to calm your nerves. While trying to control your rapid breathing you walk the room up and down, counting down from ten and then again and again. 

Eventually, you sit down at your desk, with your eyes glued to the clock above the door. Time passes agonizingly slow, while your mind is running wild. After a few more minutes you slowly start to relax. 

With your notebook and old medical journals cluttered all over the surface, you consider returning to your studies. You might as well use the time instead of just waiting for the Saviors to finally leave again. 

And just on que, you hear the door opening. You hope for Rick to finally announce the Saviors departure with his usal scowl on his face.

But instead your eyes fall on a black leather jacket and you resist the urge to fall back into the chair. Somehow you figured and actually feared the show on the street was actually just a show, with the real punishment still waiting to be delivered to you. At least it’s going to be in the privacy of the infirmary and not on the street for everyone to see, preserving what’s left of your dignity.

Negan closes the door behind him, his face void of his usual smile. “Just wanted a quick chat and then you'll be rid of me.” He leans casually against the door, keeping the distance between you two.

In response, you lean forward on your desk, resting your folded arms on the surface. The absence of Lucille doesn’t go unnoticed and it strangely calms you down a little bit. But then again, Negan doesn’t need the bat to kill you, he still has his gun and a knife.

His eyes bore into yours for a long moment before he finally speaks up. “Y/N, I'm gonna be honest with you, no one and I mean no one would have gotten out of this situation as unscratched as you just did.”

You figured and you wonder what Negan's motives are to let you live. He must have ulterior motives and not knowing what he wants is freaking you out. “I am aware.”

“You better be.” He says, pushing himself from the door. “Disobedience is not tolerable, neither is disrespect."

“And I understand that but Dwight-”

“I don’t give two shits about the bad blood between you and Dwight,” He interrupts you in a harsh tone. “And I advise you to do the same.”

Negan comes to a halt in front of your desk, looking down at you with a stern expression. He leans down, resting his hands on the desk, coming closer to an almost eye level, as if he wasn’t intimidating enough already. “I think we both know, I’d not harm you. ‘Cause I’d absolutely hate to ruin this pretty face of yours.”

Despite the tense situation, you can’t stop the blush from settling on your cheeks.

“There are enough useless shits in this town who don’t go out to scavenge. I don’t want to kill your people if I don’t need to, but if you force my hand, I’ll do what I gotta do - do you understand?”

“I do.” You stare back into his hazel eyes and believe to notice them falling on your lips for a fleeting moment.

“Consider this my absolute last warning, sunshine.”

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 7 (End)

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

[thezoraprince]

A Trip to the Lake - Sidon x Reader

“if possible, and as silly as you want to make it: imagines where reader is link’s companion fairy (like navi). all i can imagine is sidon looking like he's talking to thin air, and everyone is confused, but he lifts up one of his little fin-flap thingies and it turns out you were sitting on his shoulder the whole time” - anon

this was my very first request on this page, and i’m so happy to have FINALLY finished it! when first reading it, it reminded me of that episode from the office where jim and pam are talking on the world’s smallest bluetooth, and jim pranks dwight into thinking he’s talking to himself. so, needless to say that i used some dialogue and inspo from that. (s5 ep7) this one took me a while, and i DEFINITELY need to brush up on writing lol

enjoy :)

(p.s.: i know totk has definitely changed they way we’ve expected hyrule to be rebuilt, so i’m just gonna pretend that we haven’t seen anything yet and keep everything normal-ish for this little piece.)

y/n - your name

(requests are open!)

Toto Lake is always beautiful this time of year. But you can’t see it, anyway. All you can see is the inside of Sidon’s ear fin. You’ve sat on his shoulder the whole trip up, and how you’ve managed to stay on, and hidden, is a mystery to the both of you. You're all sat on the bank side, the other three looking out into the waters. You? All you can see is a deep scarlett fin.

Zelda and Link decided to join the two of you. You don't seem to know that they think you're not there, yet. You try to make conversation, but the sound of your voice is muffled by Sidon's ear fin. Zelda is going on and on about how beautiful Castletown is looking after the restoration of most of the buildings and fountains, as well as how much foliage has grown since the malice has disappeared. Link pulls out the Sheikah Slate and shows Sidon a photo. You manage to catch a quick glimpse before he puts it away. 

“Wow!” Sidon says. “Castletown is really coming together.”

Zelda smiles. “I can’t wait to see how it will look when everything’s finished! With so many homes and businesses rebuilt, hopefully it will be as lively as it was before the Calamity.”

You sit quietly, listening to their conversation. You’ve caught on by this point, and you really want to make it worth while. 

“Hey,” you whisper. “what sounds good for dinner?”

Sidon thinks for a moment. “I really like the idea of hearty salmon for tonight. How does that sound to you?”

Zelda and Link both give him a look of confusion.

“Well,” Zelda begins, “that was extremely out of context, but I do love hearty salmon.”

Link nods in agreement. 

Sidon turns to Zelda. “What do you mean?” 

“Hearty salmon.” she continues. “Didn't you ask if it sounded good?”

“Yes, but--”

“Are you alright, Sidon?” Zelda stands up and places her hand on Sidon’s forehead. “You feel a little cold.”

“I mean…” Sidon watches her sit back down. “that could be because of the contrast of Zora and Hylian body temperatures.”

“Very true.”

Everyone sat in silence for a bit. Zelda was wading in the shallow part of the lake, and Link was skipping pebbles across the water. 

“You know what would be great?” Sidon asked.

“Hmm.”

“If we had some bright-eyed crab with our salmon."

Zelda and Link once again give him that look.

“Huh?” Zelda stands up and walks over to him.

“What?”

Zelda sighs. “Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“Yes, Princess.” Sidon speaks a little more sternly. “I’m feeling perfectly normal.”

Link snickers at the two of them.

“I’m being serious!” She continues on. “You’ve not been your normal self today, Sidon. You’ve been talking to thin air, laughing over nothing, and going on about dinner plans we didn’t even make the whole time we’ve been here. What’s going on?”

“I’m talking to y/n.”

“Y/n’s not here, Sidon!”

Sidon raises an eyebrow at her. “What are you talking about? I have been ta— ”

“Wait, shut up.”

“I’m sorry?”

Zelda puts a finger to her lips and whispers. “Shh. Do you hear that?”

Sidon’s eyes widen. “Hear what?”

“Breathing… Is that you?”

“Well, I am breathing, yes.”

Zelda looks around. “Well, stop. Hold your breath.” She walks over to the other side of Sidon. “I still hear it… Who’s there? Link?!” She turns to look at the boy in blue.

OH!!!” Sidon raises up his ear fin, and there you are, sitting on his shoulder.

“Hi!” You wave at Zelda.

Link is absolutely rolling with laughter. 

Zelda’s face turns bright red in humiliation. “I—”

Sidon interrupts. “I seriously forgot you couldn’t see y/n! I’m so sorry for worrying you!”

Zelda sits back down yet again, her face buried in her hands from embarrassment.

“You have to admit though,” You jump off Sidon’s boulder and walk over to her. “that was the funniest hour and a half you’ve had in a long time.”

Zelda lifts her head. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“And besides,” you add. “you’re always invited to dinner!”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

“Daryl?”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was you. Your voice. No—that wasn’t possible. Not in here. He had to be hallucinating... Dehydration, malnutrition... or he’d finally snapped. That was it. This was it. His mind had broken under Dwight’s torment.

“Daryl?” This time it a harsher whisper, louder, more desperate. “Can you hear me? Please—can you—” He heard your voice break. This wasn’t how his mind would imagine you if it wasn’t real—terrified and desperate. This was real. He turned toward the door. “Y/N?” His voice was heavy with gravel from disuse. He heard your shuddering breaths through the door and then a sniffle. 

The door moved slightly as you placed your palm against it. “Daryl. I’m here. Are—are you—?” Of course he wasn’t okay. You didn’t know what to say or what to ask.

“What are ya doin’ here?” Daryl asked desperately, his heart pounding like it was trying to beat out of his chest and somehow get to you.

”I’m gonna get you out. It’s going to be okay,” you said, hastily wiping your tears and whispering to the cold door.

”No—Y/N, why’re ya in here?” All kinds of horrible scenarios moved through his brain so fast he couldn’t even decipher which was the worst.

”Don’t worry about that. I just—” you sighed, leaning your forehead against the door and wishing you could just make it disappear. “It doesn’t matter. I just want you to know that I’m going to get you out.”

Daryl felt simultaneously sick that you were here and beyond hopeful that you were right. 

”I have to go. Someone could see me,” you whispered to him. “Please, stay okay.”

”Wait—” Daryl pressed his palm to his side of the door, no idea it was in the same place as yours. “Y/N—I just want ya to know... while I’ve been in here—of all the things we’ve been through, of all the things I’ve seen, I see ya the most in my dreams. And if ya can’t get me out—tha’s okay. Just hearin’ your voice one more time—”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks again and Daryl heard you sniffle once more before you interrupted him. “I will get you out. I promise.” Prompt: “Of all the things I’ve seen, you make the most appearances in my dreams.”

[slashedthroughtheheart]

Maybe 15, 35, and or 44 for hillbilly please :3 I love your writing :3

Maybe 15, 35, and or 44 for hillbilly please :3 I love your writing :3

15. hugging each other

35. kissing their bruises and scars

Sorry for the long wait, life and stuff got in the way, but here's this! It's much more than an imagine! Hope you enjoy!

It had been a long day of trials, and it wasn’t a big secret that Max had a tougher time pleasing the entity than most killers. He just got more upset as the day went on and he kept missing the survivors with his running attack.

And it didn’t help when they’d taunt him, and make fun of him for stuff he couldn’t help.

When you first met him outside of the trials, you were shocked that he flinched away from your wave and watched as he hobbled away as quickly as he could.

Something about the interaction stuck with you, and you asked around the campfire why he’d reacted that way.

It was then that you found out from a very quiet Dwight that some of the other survivors who were out in trials right then liked to bully the killer.

You’d frowned upon finding this out, determined to go find him again and show him not everyone was going to be mean to him.

You felt sympathy for the poor guy, knowing that he’d show up in trials almost as busted up as the survivors would be when leaving them sometimes.

It can’t be easy being one of the least favored killers.

So you’d set out to befriend him. You spent the better part of a week trying to find him again, but he proved rather elusive. You began to wonder how you had even managed to run into him in the first place when you finally found him wandering outside the realms again.

You’d tried finding him in coldwind, but he never seemed to be there whenever you checked.

You waved slowly to him, smiling. “Hey big guy, just wanted to say hi!”

He was wary of you, taking a step back and turning.

You didn’t want to miss this chance at letting him know you were friendly so you called out to him. “Wait! You don’t have to go, I just wanted to see if you wanted to be friends.” your voice was filled with hope, waiting to see if he’d believe you and turn back.

It did make him pause and at least look back at you, but his own fear won out and he hobbled away again, not trusting that a survivor would be nice to him.

A pang of sadness filled you as you dropped your hand a bit, calling out a forlorn “Bye.” to his retreating back.

It wasn’t until you finally got a trial with him that you thought of a way that you might be able to get through to him.

You didn’t run from the terror radius, you just waited patiently for him to find you. And find you he did, and when you didn’t run, he stopped and stared at you, wondering what you were up to. He had zero trust for survivors during trials, but he did remember you from the other day.

He warily stood facing you, trying to decide what to do until you spoke up.

“It’s ok! You can hook me, I won’t fight. You don’t get many hooks, right? It’s alright, any match we get in you can always hook me!” You were excited at the prospect of being able to help him out. One kill wasn’t much to the entity, but it had to be better than nothing.

He wasn’t sure why you were doing this, and he was hesitant to hook you. It felt like a trap.

But the prospect of getting a hook early was enough to make him choose to down you.

He expected you to try and wiggle off, but you just laid limp over his shoulder when he picked you up. You didn’t even scream when he hooked you, you just grit your teeth before letting out a slow breath and hanging there.

This wasn’t what he expected, and as he went to leave, one of the others showed up to try and unhook you. They didn’t even bother being stealthy, they just ran right up to the hook, thinking they had nothing to worry about even though he was close by.

He revved up, ready to run at the hook to try and get another down, thrilled that maybe he’d do well this match, but he wasn’t expecting them to stop just short of the hook, making him miss them and have to take time to recover.

And in that time, they unhooked you, and ran away to a pallet by the time Hillbilly had recovered from his missed chainsaw run.

And there you were, standing, holding your bleeding side, waiting patiently for him to hook you again. You were serious about giving him a kill.

It seemed to finally click for him. The words he remembered you saying, the way you looked, and now this trial. You were being nice to him.

And he didn’t want to hook you. Not the only person in all of the entities realm who finally showed him kindness.

Instead, he turned and chased after the person who unhooked you.

You didn’t understand, you thought you broke through to him, he hooked you! You thought you’d finally get to help him.

So you chased after, watching what he did as best you could.

You watched as Meg smashed a pallet on him, leaving a welt behind, wincing as he wailed and then broke the pallet and chased after her, enraged.

It was all making so much sense now why he struggled so much. He didn’t think things through, he just blindly ran around in a rage, and it just got worse as time went on.

It really wasn’t long until all the gens got completed, and Meg had ran him for the whole time.

She even ended up escaping. They all did, without him even downing another person.

You still stayed, refusing to leave even when he came to find you. He seemed distressed for some reason, but since he couldn’t communicate why, you just tried to reassure him that you were okay with being sacrificed so the entity wouldn’t be made with him.

He tried to lead you to the door, but you just shook your head as the ground crackled open more at your feet.

“Really, it’s okay. I want to make sure you get at least one sacrifice. I can’t imagine how bad it is to get none all day in the entities eyes.” Your words seemed to both calm him a bit but also make him more restless.

At least he seemed to understand you were friendly now.

As the entity took you, you heard him cry out like he was in pain, but you didn’t see why. Your heart hurt, thinking the entity was punishing him for not doing well enough.

But if you had been able to look over, you’d see it was him seeing you dying that made him cry out.

After the trial ended, and you came out of the fog near the campfire again, you set out immediately, determined to find him again.

Thankfully you didn’t have to look for long, since it seemed he was looking for you too. He came right up to you, surprisingly. And he went to reach out to touch you, but quickly pulled his hand back, worried that you’d get mad if he touched you.

“Hey there big guy. I’m sorry the entity still got mad at you.” you had genuine concern in your voice, something he did manage to pick up on, and he’d never wished more that he could talk like everyone else.

So instead he reached out slowly, holding his hand out to you, hoping you’d let him touch you.

He wanted to let you know somehow that it was ok, that he wasn’t hurt. It was you who got hurt, and he was glad you were ok now.

He really hadn’t seen many people be taken by the entity. Maybe a handful of times had he gotten sacrifices over his time in the entities realm so far.

And he had never seen one taken in the end game collapse like that. He had been sure you wouldn’t ever come back from that, it had been so gruesome. His heart had hurt, thinking the one person who’d ever been nice to him was gone.

So when he saw you moving through the trees, he’d come right to you as fast as his legs could take him.

Relief had flooded through him when he got close enough and saw you were fine.

And when you reached out to take hold of the hand he’d held out, his heart thumped harder than ever before. You were so nice, and you weren’t saying anything about how his hands felt, or freaking out about coming into contact with him.

“I’m glad you seem okay though!” You gently patted the back of his hand with your other hand, still holding it gently.

He nodded, coming a bit closer, nodding again and again. He wanted you to know he was glad you were okay too.

So he copied you, patting your hand right back.

You were ecstatic at this development. “So, does this make us friends then?”

You were looking up at him hopefully, a small smile on your face as you waited to see how he’d respond.

Enthusiastic nodding was followed by even more patting of your hand.

You laughed softly, enjoying his antics.

“Alright. So, I want to make sure you get more hooks from now on, and I think I have some ideas on how you could get some more in your trials. You want me to tell you my thoughts?”

He wasn’t sure what you could have to tell him, but you seemed nice, and smart, so he nodded slowly. You pulled gently on his hand, gesturing to a small grassy patch.

“You want to sit while we talk? It’s probably more comfy.”

He followed you obediently, sitting next to you, his long legs splayed out in front of him while he waited for you to tell him how he could get more hooks.

And over the next hour, you gently explained how you’d watched him in your match, and explained where things went awry, and how he could do things differently in the future.

You explained how he should slow down near pallets so he didn’t get hit with them. He could catch up to survivors easily, it’s a waiting game.

And then you explained how he should only use his chainsaw if he has a survivor fully cornered or to use it to cross the map quickly.

He nodded along, listening closely.

“You don’t have to only use your chainsaw, you have your hammer too. I think you get a bit caught up in your eagerness to down survivors and then you only ever use your chainsaw. You can hit them with your hammer and they’ll be easier to find because they’ll be hurt and making nose, leaving trails of blood. You can hit them again with your hammer to down them so you can hook them.”

It was true, he forgot about his hammer a lot. It was supposed to be easier to down survivors with his chainsaw, since it only takes one hit, but he wasn’t very good at hitting with his chainsaw.

Maybe you were right about all the things you pointed out, but there was only one way to find out. He’d try his hardest to remember everything you told him he could do to improve in his next trial, and if he at least injured a survivor, he’d take it as an improvement.

It didn’t take long after you finished explaining things for the entity to whisk one of you away from the clearing, taking you into another trial while leaving him in the clearing, a bit distressed that you were being taken from him again.

And then it wasn’t long after he got pulled into his own.

When you reappeared at the campfire, you took a bit of a breather for a moment, having had a rough match against the Clown. It always felt like the tightness in your chest from breathing in his concoction lingered a little after the trials you had against him. It could be psychological, but you always needed a bit to shake it off anyways.

You were startled by a swearing David coming from the thick fog, followed quickly by Nea and Bill, with Feng coming maybe another two minutes after.

They all seemed to be upset about something.

“I don’t get it, he’s never killed more than one person, let alone all 4 of us before. What the hell!?” David was pacing at the edge of the group, shaking his head before turning to the group he’d arrived with.

“It’s like he was a different killer completely. I can’t believe it! What the hell changed?” the rest of them shrugged, just as off put as he was.

It was Meg who spoke up finally, asking who they were talking about.

“The damn Hillbilly. The idiot somehow killed all 4 of us.” Your face soured at the mean name, but you kept quiet. You didn’t need them knowing it was because you basically taught him how to be a better killer.

“Well, it had to be a fluke or something. He’s never been good at anything, it’s fine.”

You managed to keep your smile to yourself, knowing that with just a little guidance, he had done so much better. 4 kills! You’d have to go find him and tell him good job.

And so you set out again, towards where you originally found him, only to find him waiting anxiously on the grass spot you’d been sitting at before the entity took you.

At your approach, he quickly got to his feet, excited to try and tell you he did what you said. He wasn’t sure how, but he’d figure something out.

It was cute how excited he looked, a smile on his face as he waited for you to get to the grassy area too before opening his arms wide and making big gestures that you tried to make sense of.

“You trying to tell me you got more hooks, big guy?” At this he nodded almost frantically.

You smiled up at him, before gesturing to the ground. “Wanna sit while we talk about it?”

He quickly sat back down again, sprawling his legs out once more. You joined him, sitting next to him and patting his arm gently.

“I heard from the other who were in your trial that you got all 4 of them! That’s amazing! You did such a good job!” at this, he doesn’t know how to respond. His whole face flushes red immediately, unsure of how to handle being praised. It felt nice though.

So he nodded, but was no longer making gestures. You giggled at the shyness, your heart warming at the thought of this big scary killer blushing from you telling him he did a good job.

It was so sweet, really. You had to wonder how he had been before the entity took him. You had wishful thinking, hoping he’d had people in his life before who cared for him.

He was sweet, and gentle whenever he touched you to give you pats back.

He seemed eager for any physical contact, so you held his hand, rubbing your thumb against his calloused palm.

And that’s how things started between the two of you.

You slowly taught him the alphabet and how to write in the dirt with a stick. And taught him how to spell stuff.

And he could finally tell you his name, after knowing yours for so long.

The first time you called him Max, his mouth went dry. His whole body felt warm and cold all at the same time, and he knew he’d like hearing it again.

Anything you said sounded nice, but his name sounded the best from you.

It was a day where he’d had a rough time with survivors again, not for lack of him trying, that you’d kissed the mark on his shoulder the pallet had left behind.

It had stunned him silent, and you had worried you overstepped and read things wrong, but him grabbing your hand right after and pulling it close again had your worries going away.

He wasn’t brave enough to kiss you back, but he did rub his thumb over your hand the same way you did for him all the time.

And it was this interaction that led to many more. You’d taken to giving him hugs when you met up again after trials, and he relished in the physical affection, holding you back gently.

He always seemed a little sad to let go, so after the first few times, you ventured closer while sitting next to him, leaning against his side gently, holding his hand.

The response was great, he instantly took to it, holding your hand back, a smile on his face at the sensation.

It was nice, having this time with him away from everyone else. He was so sweet and ready to listen and learn. And when he showed you he could write your name out in the dirt, the warmth that filled you was beyond what you’d felt before.

He’d taken the time to figure out how your name sounded, and taught himself how to spell your name like that. It touched you that he cared about you so much.

You gave him a soft kiss on his cheek after he showed you, and he went completely red again, but did not pull away or stop you.

And so you kissed him again, gently, and he knew that you were special.

You were kind, and smart. And he loved you.

That’s all either of you needed to know.