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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 15 hours

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The Soldier Of Death (7)- Recruitment

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 2.7k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, anxiety, brief reference to torture

—

"You wanted to see me?" Natasha says as she strolls into Nick's office, him requesting her presence as soon as possible. The redhead ditched the mission reports she was doing to come and see the Director, having a feeling this was something far more important.

"How are things progressing with our Soldat Smerti?" he asks as his eye is trained on her, his expression blank as he doesn't want to give away his ideas. Natasha also keeps her face stoic as for some reason the name he called you bothered her, did he not see that your name was Y/n on the file she submitted?

"She's open to talking more, still very hesitant and cautious but that's understandable for someone who's been institutionalised for a large amount of time, especially someone who was maltreated," Natasha replies, having spent more time with you over the last couple of weeks, still delivering your food but also trying to get you to talk more, expressing how you weren't going to be hurt here.

"You have taken a liking to her," he says, a little out of nowhere, catching the redhead by surprise. "You would have made your assessment by now but you seem to be waiting for something," her jaw clenches subtly, not liking how somehow this man was always able to have some sort of read on her. "What are you waiting for?"

"She wants to accept our offer," Natasha answers honestly, the man's smile sneaking onto his lips as his own plans were falling into place, the assassin unaware of his ideas. "She's just scared."

"Do you think she could be an Avenger?" He asks and she pauses for a moment, thinking carefully about his question. She could see that same glint in your eyes that she had when she was first rescued from the red room, that hopeful glint that you would be able to be more than what they made you, but at the same time the fear of betrayal hovering at the back of your mind.

"In time, yes," Fury moves to stand from his chair, moving to lean against the front of his desk while Natasha stands in front of him, her arms crossing over her chest as the man ponders for a moment.

"Why are you so sure about her?" Natasha watches the man's curious gaze, his hands resting against the wooden desk as the redhead responds to her boss.

"When Clint didn't take his shot against me in Budapest, he told me that he had this gut feeling about me, that I could be more than what they made me," Fury listens with interest at Natasha's words, remembering the mixed emotions he felt that day when Clint disobeyed his orders but helped saved what would soon become one of his most valuable agents. "I have this same feeling about her," she confesses and the man knows not to take this lightly, the Russian never letting her emotions affect her work, renowned for her professionalism.

The room lingers in silence for a moment, both figures letting the weight of the situation settle before Fury speaks up, a plan having formed in his head.

"Talk to the team about her being potentially recruited, see what they make of it," he says and Natasha is a bit suspicious as to why she was doing it, Fury normally taking the lead on these types of situations.

"What are you going to do?" she asks and he just chuckles at her scepticism.

"I'm going to talk her into accepting our offer," he says, the smile now visible on his lips as he sees the small one tugging at the redhead's lips, "See you soon Romanoff."

***

"He wants to do what?" Steve's tone laced with disbelief as he braces his arms on the kitchen island, having just finished making a smoothie after his morning run.

"He wants us to give her a chance," Natasha answers, the super soldier letting out a sigh before taking a large sip of his drink, the rest of the team gathered in various places around the common room, listening in to the conversation.

They were all up to date about you, brief knowledge of your past and known abilities being sent to them all in your file once you were brought back into the base and put in the glass cell. They knew you were powerful and loyal, so the question was would you be able to betray Hydra and trust them.

"Why should we do that? She's done nothing to prove she won't just try and kill us all," Steve says, still bitter about the pain in his side, multiple ribs having been broken during the last encounter with you, the moment where you almost decapitated him also being added to the list as to why he wasn't fond of you. "She's powerful and dangerous," he says, caution in his tone as he tries to get his point across, "She's also clearly not in control."

"She needs our help," Wanda cuts in, taking a few by surprise as she tended to stay quiet during conversations like this, only speaking once someone asked her opinion. "We can help her, that's what we do right? As Avengers?" Her words settle in a few, Natasha smiling at the brunette woman and nodding her head subtly in appreciation.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this," Tony says, finally speaking up which was unlike his character, normally first to voice his opinion in literally anything. "I agree partly with the old man," he says, earning a disapproving look from Steve at the nickname, "We can't be sure it's safe. Statistically, the chances of her losing control or hurting one of us is extremely high."

"See someone who agrees-" Steve tries to say, being cut off by the billionaire.

"I haven't finished Capsicle," he says, a mocking smile on his lip at the other nickname he called Steve who just glared at the man. "But since when has anything we have done been safe?"

"That's because of you Tony," Steve mutters, "You're the one who always puts us in these situations,"

"Last I recall, you were the one who wanted an ex-hydra brainwashed murderer to join our team, what's different about this one?" Steve's jaw visibly clenches at Tony's description of Bucky, the brown haired man making a valid point though. You were extremely similar to Bucky, if they could help him, why couldn't they help you?

"Bucky's different," he grits out, defending his best friend while everyone else in the room notices the tension rising in the atmosphere. "I know him."

"Knew," corrects Tony, "You knew him, Hydra changed him."

"This isn't about Bucky," Natasha cuts in, not wanting a proper fight to break out between the two, the billionaire lacking the care of stepping too far over the line, Steve being far too defensive about his friend. "Look at the facts, yes she's hydra but how many of us here have a past we want to forget, we want to put behind us? She's no different to some of you when you first joined, so why should we put that against her?"

Everyone listens as Natasha takes control of the room, Clint hiding a smile at his best friend and noticing this was her moment with you. She wasn't taking her shot with you just as he did her.

"As Steve said, she's powerful, we need that if we want to stop Hydra and any other threats."

"Since when did you do the speeches Romanoff," teases Tony, already making his mind up about his stance on your potential recruitment to the team. "How about we have a vote?" he says, using his typical cocky voice to get the other's opinion, "Who thinks Y/n should join?"

In his usual manner, Tony playfully raises his arm, making a show of himself before looking around the room to see who else agrees. Wanda raises her arm up shyly, Natasha doing so more confidently, just not as dramatically as the billionaire, Clint also raising his hand up as he trusts Natasha's gut feeling about you, the rest of those in the room, being Steve, Bruce and Vision, Sam and Thor currently not available, keeping theirs down.

Steve goes to protest, but the sounds of footsteps can be heard, interrupting the conversation.

"Well, I'm glad the vote went in our favour," Fury says as he strides into the room with authority, the room going quiet as they see you standing by his side, face stoic to mask your nerves.

Everything was so loud, the electricity buzzing around the room, the tv playing in the corner, the sounds of fists clenching, bodies tensing, hearts starting to race, it was all too loud. It was overwhelming. Steve's heart in particular started to pound against his rib cage, the memories of your last encounter causing him to be tense and on edge, your gaze meeting his blue for a split second before flickering away.

They think we're a monster. They're scared and they should be.

Taunts the darkness, your mask slipping for a second, showing a brief sense of doubt behind your eyes before your face returns to being stoic, mind fighting the gnawing corruption and forcing it to be silent.

"Meet Y/n, your new teammate," Fury says nonchalantly but also in a tone that leaves no room for argument, a few shocked faces as Natasha said potential teammate, not someone who would be joining instantly.

"Fury..." Steve's voice dies out with the glare sent his way, your eyes fixated on the view out of the window, everything else seeming to fade away.

The compound overlooked acres and acres of field and forest, the sun gently shining down onto the grass causing it to look vibrant, the simple sight of nature almost a phenomenon to you. Too busy staring out of the window, you miss the small smile that creeps up on Natasha's face, Fury going to have a private word with a few of the team while you slowly made your way towards the windows.

You could feel a few people staring at you, your mind trying to stop the racing thoughts and focus on calming down, not wanting to have some sort of panic attack from all the attention on you. You had to block out the incessant heartbeats, the signs of their fear and tried to focus on the steady one nearby. Only once you turned your head did you realise that it was Natasha who was calm, casually walking up to you as you turned your head back to admire the view.

"It's beautiful," you whisper, not used to having such a clear view of outside your surroundings. You were used to concrete walls surrounding you, or even glass ones in a secure room, not the large windows that practically filled the entire wall, displaying the wonders of the outside world.

"It is," she murmurs back, turning her gaze from you to back outside. The others watched from the distance as you two stood near the window, Natasha talking to you while you made sure to memorise every detail you possibly could about the view. "What made you accept the offer?" she asks, curious as to what Fury must have said to you to get you to finally accept it, her emerald eyes scanning over your relaxing features.

Before you can reply, the sound of Steve's voice becoming louder interrupts the moment, Fury's stare hardening at the super soldier.

"This is going to go wrong, it isn't the right move," he says in warning before grabbing his smoothie and leaving the room, shaking his head as he enters the elevator, "I thought we did things as a team Fury, made decisions together."

"You did and you were outvoted," Fury replies and Steve just scoffs at the idea they were using a random voting method to decide your place on the team. He doesn't bother arguing back, letting the doors shut, Fury dismissing everyone and asking for you to join him in the kitchen, away from everyone.

"Remember our deal," he says, tone serious as he addresses you, "Any indication that you're not being honest with us, and you're straight back in a cell, don't make me have to do that Soldier." You nod in understanding, eyes flickering over to a glass on the table, your reflection staring back at you.

What have you done? This was a trap.

Get us out now. If you don't do it, I will. I won't be merciful.

The darkness claws at your mind, your stare going blank for a second as Fury continues to talk to you. The man notices how you seem to grow distant for a second, blinking before returning your attention towards him.

"I will leave you to adjust to everything," he says, catching the nervousness in your eyes and assuming it was from the new environment, not your broken mind. He knows it will be hard to adjust, but he has faith in the rest of the team to help you, especially after the talk he just gave them.

With Fury gone, you're left to sit alone, basking in your thoughts as Natasha holds back with Wanda, watching how the witch seems to be able to hear some of your thoughts while also keeping an eye on you, reading your body language.

Your leg bounces steadily, fingers gripping the glass a little too tight, her brows furrowing at how anxious you seem, never having showed signs like this when you were with her in the cell.

They're always going to be scared of the Soldat.

They sneer, your fingers loosening around the glass as you can feel it straining, about to shatter, the darkness laughing at the close call of losing control already.

You're going to snap. Lose control. This will all be for nothing because I will get out. I will get out and do what needs to be done.

You remain quiet, not in the position to be able to snap back at the darkness, letting them taunt and tease you, trying to get you to lose your composure. You had to learn how to deal with them, how to keep them under control, otherwise they were right. You would snap.

I can't wait to watch the life drain from their eyes, to watch them suffer.

Your jaw clenches painfully, their words purposely trying to rile you up, to prove Steve right that you were dangerous, but you don't react as Natasha comes to sit next to you. She sees straight through the small smile you send her way, Wanda having quietly told her that your static-like mind was growing louder and you needed some sort of distraction, and decides to inform you of the plan for the rest of the day, Fury having told her before he left.

"You've got a busy day ahead of you," she teases softly, emerald eyes matching her tone as she watches you fight yourself internally, your gaze eventually turning to meet her gentle one. "I'll show you around the compound first, then it's medical tests quickly and then showcasing your skills so we have a better understanding of your abilities, is that alright?"

"Medicals?" you say, hesitation evident in your eyes, Natasha's gaze going to your fingers , how they subconsciously trace your veins where you were most likely tested on before.

You can remember the agony you felt from all the injections they forced into you, the searing pain that felt like it was burning you from the insides, test after test, torture after torture, you didn't want to go through that again.

"We just check your vitals to make sure you're healthy," she explains, still watching how your fingers moved to trace a scar instead, your mind still processing something.

"Would I be alone?"

"I'll be there with you," her tone reassuring, the redhead noticing how you visibly relax, hands dropping to your sides to rest. "Now come on, we've got an entire compound to go around," she says with a playful smile, standing up from the chair and motioning for you to follow her, ready to give you a tour of hopefully your new home.

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whateverisbeautiful · 21 hours

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#61: The Happy Ending (1.06)

The Grimes family is reunited.😭🙌🏽

That's it. That's the intro. 😋 Because we just gotta dive right in and break this super rewarding and moving Grimes family reunion all the way down. It's everything. 🥹...

First off - The way we WIN.

After so many years, we really got to witness our babies get their happily ever after with their babies. They won. We won. 🎉😭

And the biggest reason I say we win is because something that we love lives. Richonne's story has been able to live to its fullest potential and in the most captivating and fulfilling way. From the iconic start in TWD to this impactful conclusion in TOWL. 🙌🏽

When working on these TOWL revelings, I tried to have the majority of them written and ready before I even started sharing the posts in July to ensure I’d deliver on my promise and follow through to the end. These final Grimes Family reunion posts are the only ones I put off writing for a while because, as far as we know, this is it. 🥲 The last page we get to see of Richonne’s beautiful years-long story. The last new Richonne scenes to break down and revel in.

Since TOWL was announced as a 6-episode miniseries, I’m currently approaching this final scene as the official conclusion of Richonne's story. I know Andy, Danai, and Scott haven't outright said they're never reprising these roles, and the more I hear their answers to the questions about a return, a part of me thinks they know they're coming back in some capacity, be it a cameo or more, and already have an existing contract perhaps, which is why they can't 'spoil' anything by confirming or denying a return.

The way I view it - if Richonne makes another appearance, I'm absolutely seated and celebratory. And if they don't, I'm absolutely satisfied and grateful for what we got. As the gift that keeps on giving, they've already given us over 10 years of golden Richonne content, and this Grimes Family 2.0 reunion put a lovely bow on top of this gift. 💝 It was truly a beautiful and fitting conclusion to their story. And most of all I want the Grimes Family to get to live happily and at peace together, so I'm more than elated with how Richonne's story comes to a close here. 😇

So, as the broadcast announces “A historic day to begin a new chapter for the Republic” - which of course Rick and Michonne Grimes would be the ones capable of bringing about a fresh, historic, and thriving new chapter for a whole city of thousands - we see a glimpse of Judith sitting beside her walkie. And then I love hearing Michonne on the other end say, “Shoto, it’s Daito.” 🥹

Ahhhhhhh the Grimes family reunion was happening! 🥳🥳🥳 And I'm so glad it's with the original actors too. 😭🙌🏽

I remember there was a period when some were a bit worried that Richonne wouldn't reunite with their kids in TOWL. For me, I felt so sure it was gonna happen because that was the only way Michonne and Rick would feel their mission was successful. And I love how it gets confirmed that they’ll be seeing the kids as soon as we see this walkie-talkie moment.

...Even tho for some of us, the Grimes family reunion was basically confirmed a little earlier, when a certain two illustrious actors filmed a trip down memory lane in Senoia, Georgia. 🤭

Our lovely captains have a sweet little exchange during that great memory lane special that clued me in on what to expect. There's a part where Danai is talking about Judith and RJ and how she loved seeing Judith with the mini sword on her back. Then, as others also picked up on, Danai said something to Andy about how now Cailey has nearly outgrown the sword, and she seemed to think Andy could co-sign that she has. And that had my extra self’s ears perking up. 😋

Because Andy had been having to work double time to recall some TWD scenes he was actually a part of during this trip down memory lane - so I said to myself - Self, it is highly unlikely that he knows if Cailey, who he never had scenes with, is now outgrowing the sword…unless he’s already filmed a scene with her wearing the sword. 😏

gif cred: @nerd4music

So yeah, after that I was no longer even 1% unsure if Richonne would have their family reunion. It was happening. 💯 And the way it happened is Love personified. 👏🏽💗

It had to be such a euphoric moment for Judith to finally, after over a year, hear her mom on the other end of that walkie that she said she'd always keep with her. And it had to be euphoric for Michonne to no longer get static but finally get her baby girl on the other end. 🥹

I remember it was emotional watching Michonne and Judith's final walkie-talkie conversation in TWD, especially knowing they'd eventually fall out of range. And so it was a great feeling to see their walkies finally make a connection again.

I like the way it’s shot with the walkie on the steps and Rick’s holster and gun on Judith’s hip. Again, Michonne summed it up perfectly when she said Judith is her and Rick. And it’s sweet seeing Judith immediately grab the walkie when she hears her mom’s voice.

Also knowing Michonne was able to reach Judith on the walkie, I think this would definitely imply that Rick was able to talk to or at least hear Judith before they see each other in person. I’d be so curious what that very first exchange over the walkies was like between Michonne, Judith, and Rick. I'd imagine it was quite emotional for Rick to hear Judith's voice on the other end for the first time. 🥲

So then there’s the return of Rick’s battle-tested cowboy boots as he steps off the helicopter. And I really like the way it’s shot as we just see his feet first and then Michonne’s feet join him. It feels like yet another way to illustrate and celebrate that Rick is no longer alone. The love of his life found him and now they really will be by each other's side for pretty much all things going forward.

gif cred: @taiturner

As TV's greatest husband and wife step off the helicopter, we get to see Rick and Michonne more fully and I adore that they’re holding hands. 🥰 They always look so married. And as has been established, holding hands is one of Richonne's favorite things.

And then you know we gotta take a moment for Michonne’s outfit 🔥🔥🔥. Cutest outfit she’s ever worn. 👏🏽 I LOVE it. 🤩

gif cred: @alwaysthequietones

It’s great how they chose something that feels both fresh but also so true to Michonne for her final outfit and it just feels like she’s again getting to return to herself through the clothing. A fashion It Girl, through and through. 💅🏽

Michonne stayed proving an apocalypse does not have to stop you from stylishly color-coordinating and accessorizing. And I love the cowrie shells being back in her hair too. One of the last times she wore cowrie shells - a symbol of fertility - RJ arrived shortly after. So of course seeing the shells in this finale had my Richonne baby fever activated. 😋 It’s also great she got her katana back as well. That sword will always find its way back to its Mama Michonne. 👌🏽

And I of course also love that Michonne and Rick are wearing matching colors. A signature Richonne thing to the end. 😌 And Rick and Michonne matching in that tan color is great because the color scheme is giving "Must've been something else then." 😊

Then, I think it’s such a touching and well-acted moment when, before we even see the kids, we can tell that Richonne has spotted their kids from the way they react. 😭

Something about the way Michonne holds Rick's hand and then runs to her babies just feels like such a wife and mother and it’s so sweet. Like if you showed this running clip out of context to someone unfamiliar with the show, I feel they'd immediately be able to tell that who Michonne and Rick are running to is their children.

I love how Michonne drops her bag and just immediately runs to the kids. And then it’s precious that Rick sees his children for the first time and drops his bag as he eagerly runs to them as well. Goodness, this whole thing is just heartwarming x10, I can’t. 🫠

gif cred: @nat111love

And it gets extra heartwarming when we see Judith and RJ for the first time, sprinting to their parents with the biggest smiles on their faces. 😭😭😭 Richonne's babies are here. 🥹

gif cred: @alwaysthequietones

The way I rejoiced seeing the adorable Grimes kids running the first time I watched. 🙌🏽 I love seeing how ecstatic they are and the way Judith looks back at her little brother as they run. A true big sister. And of course, I adore that Judith is wearing the sword like her mom and her gun in her holster like her dad and that RJ is wearing his dad's signature Sherriff hat and dressed like little Carl. It’s all so perfect. 🥹

And for me, watching this scene would be the hardest Try Not To Tear Up challenge yet, because the way Judith and RJ smile and run into Michonne’s arms, and the three embrace - My heart bursts. 😭❤️‍🩹

gif cred: @riickgrimes

They all hold so tightly to each other and it’s precious. For a long while, the only Grimes family Judith and RJ had been used to was just the three of them. So it’s really sweet that the three of them have a moment to reunite after missing each other for so long. RJ's smile and Judith's face when she hugs her mom always makes me want to cry.

gif cred: @nat111love

(Side note: There are people out there who ignorantly discredit and downplay Judith and Michonne’s mother/daughter relationship and that will forever be foolish to me (though sadly not surprising 😪). Judith has only ever known life with Michonne, and Michonne has been raising Judith since before she could walk. Their mom/daughter status cannot be denied. Interestingly, Judith is the one Grimes kid who has only ever known life with both Rick and Michonne. Carl was old enough to recall when Michonne entered his life. RJ is old enough to recall when Rick entered his life. But Judith doesn’t recall when either entered her life because her parents have been raising her since she was in diapers. They’re the only mom and dad she’s ever recognized. Yes, Judith knows Michonne didn’t birth her but that’s not the only qualification one needs to be a mom. In every other way, Michonne has been Judith’s mom for as long as she can remember. So when Judith looks at Michonne it’s clear she sees her mom, not 'the woman who looks after her', not her 'play mom' - her mom. 👌🏽)

I love that Michonne gets her own moment to reunite with her kids and that they let that moment breathe. Michonne is the anchor to this reunion as they all look to her as the connecting piece of this family right now. It’s realistic for the kids to take their time greeting Michonne because that’s the only parent they really know.

And just like Rick and Michonne had to do a lot of sacrificing on this journey, so did Judith and RJ.

These kids sacrificed valuable time with their mom so that she could go bring their dad back home. So I love that they get to have a moment of being just so elated to be back in their mom’s arms.

Rick stands in the back of the shot, as he anxiously awaits greeting his kids. I know Rick appreciated seeing this moment between the three and immediately seeing that his kids love and view Michonne just as highly as he does. He got yet another reminder that he chose the perfect woman to be the mother of his kids seeing the way his babies beamed and ran in Michonne's arms. 😊

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then it is again so precious when Michonne and the kids look at each other and whisper "Hi" and just again have these joyous smiles on their faces.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

RJ’s quiet little ‘hi,’ 🥹 Michonne asking how they’re doing and acknowledging they’ve got so big since she last saw them, 🥹 the way they can’t help but smile and laugh, 🥹 and then when Michonne and Judith put their heads together. 🥹 I love every second.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne finally gets to hold the two who fueled her to keep going even in the moments during this TOWL journey where it felt like all was lost. She was not going to let her kids down and she was going to ensure she made it back to them.And Judith and RJ knew their mom would make it back to them too, no matter how long it took.

I also love seeing Michonne’s M bracelet in the shot. Again, she really came back adorned with gifts from her husband because Rick loves her the way a cherished wife should be loved. And of all the gifts Rick has given Michonne, we know she cherishes most the gift of their children. 💛

gif cred: @riickgrimes

It really is beautiful how we went from Michonne telling Carl one kid was enough for her to her now having four kids (…and counting possibly). And I love the way it's visible how Michonne's soul just lights up so brightly as she holds her kids in her arms.

So as the three embrace, Rick stands back and watches his beautiful family. And the way Rick is looking at them, it’s clear this is all so surreal for him.

It makes sense that Rick would hang back for the reunion as Michonne has a moment with their kids. It reminds me of how on Carl’s last day, Rick approached it like he understood Michonne and Carl needed their time together as a mother and son because he knew he was losing his son and Michonne was too. Also, it's evident during this reunion that Rick wants to be mindful of whatever contact Judith and RJ want with him.

So Judith gives one more smile over at her brother and mom, as Michonne adorably lifts up RJ’s hat and embraces her baby boy, who is not such a baby anymore, saying, “Hi there.”

And then Judith turns to Rick with a smile. As they look at each other, Judith becomes emotional and starts to cry. She walks to Rick and finally, after all this time, gets to embrace her dad. 🥹

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Y’all, there is a reason I put off writing these reunion posts for so long. 😭 This entire scene between these four makes me emotional for so many reasons.

I think it’s so sweet that Rick is letting his kids set the tone for how they want to interact with him in this scene. You know if it were up to him, he’d probably be bawling and pulling them into an embrace, but he also knows that he’s in some ways a stranger to them now. So the thoughtful way Andy plays it, I love that it’s clear Rick wants to let the kids decide what they’re comfortable with. And the second Rick knows they want to hug him, he so tenderly and lovingly hugs them back. 🥹

gif cred: @twdfranchise

The way he hugs Judith, you see how layered this moment is for Rick because he’s so happy to be back with his daughter and also sad to see just how much he’s missed as she’s done a lot of growing up in his absence.

Plus, during his time with the CRM, Rick had to devastatingly accept that he may never see Judith again and even tried to convince himself that maybe she'd be safer if he didn't come home to her and protected her from afar. I feel like hugging Judith right now, Rick probably feels so overcome with emotion knowing that he's actually getting to hold his daughter after thinking he'd never get this chance again.

Hearing Judith cry as she hugs him and seeing the fatherly way Rick holds her head and tries to hold it together while clearly feeling so many emotions. I cannot. ❤️‍🩹 My heart is moved during each part of this Grimes family reunion.

While still hugging him, Judith emotionally says, “I knew it, Dad. I knew you were still out there.” It’s so sweet that this is the first thing she says and that Rick gets to hear that Judith never lost her hope that Rick was alive.

gif cred: @twdfranchise

While Rick came close to ending it a few times during his years away, he managed to stay another day and then another after that and another after that, and I like to think that day by day he was somehow subconsciously being fueled by his wife and kids belief in him. They believed he was still out there and that energy helped keep him here long enough to now be back with them again.

I also love how no one ever came and took Rick’s place in his family’s life because these three Grimes were always believing Rick was still out there. Judith held onto this faith that her dad was alive even when the odds of Rick being alive seemed low. It feels like Michonne modeled that example to her of continuing to believe. And their belief was worth the wait. 🥹

And then Judith looks up at Rick and says, "I just never wanted you to feel alone.” It moves me so much that while Rick was afar hoping Judith was okay, he now gets to know that his daughter had been hoping he was okay too. 🥲

gif cred: @twdfranchise

As a big sister myself, I just gotta say Cailey plays the big sister role so well. Especially when you’re the family-oriented and responsible big sister, you always just want to make sure everyone is okay. Your younger siblings, your parents, aunts, uncles, everybody. And I love that Judith’s big thing was wanting to be sure her dad never felt alone. That’s so caring. 😭

I also feel like her saying this is her reiterating why she encouraged her mom to go after Rick. On the walkies in Michonne's last full TWD episode, Judith told Michonne, "What if he's trying to come home too, but no one will help?" And she was spot on with that prediction. In TOWL ep 3, Rick even verbalized to Michonne that he had asked for help, but he didn't get it.

So even though it made Judith really sad to be away from her mom, she knew Rick might be alone and in need of Michonne's help even more. Never wanting her dad to feel alone was among the many reasons Judith urged Michonne to go get him.

And another thing that's poetic to me is that Judith is such a pivotal character in getting Rick and Michonne to meet the way they did. Had Glenn and Maggie not gone out to the store to get Judith's formula, Michonne wouldn't have run into them and brought the formula to the prison for her future daughter. Also, even the very night Rick and Michonne became an official romantic couple in 6.10, their couch moment began with smiling over Judith on the baby monitor.

Since she was born, Judith has helped ensure her dad didn't feel alone because her very existence played a part in Rick finding his ultimate life partner and soulmate, Michonne.

So next, Rick says his first words to Judith in years when he looks at her and says, “I thought I was..."

I like that he's honest about how he did think he was alone at first. There definitely was a time when Rick was confronted with the depths of loneliness within the CRM.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick continues, "Then I realized..." and I love that he looks over at Michonne as he says this. And the way Michonne holds RJ while smiling at Rick and Judith interacting again for the first time in years. 🥲

All those years in TWD, Michonne saw how much Rick loved Judith, and so it clearly means a lot to her to see Rick face to face with their daughter again. Rick and Michonne both just seem so present and grateful for this moment as parents.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick looks over at Michonne, knowing how instrumental his wife was in both his daughter being who she is today and in helping him realize what he says next - "I wasn’t.” 🥹

It’s really nice to see that Rick realized he was never alone because he always had his family.

When Rick tells Judith that he realized he wasn’t alone, Judith gets to hear Rick essentially say he realized her own little mantra that she wrote on her family drawing, “My family is always with me.”

Judith and Rick both know the sadness of losing your loved ones' memory, but I’m so glad they now have each other back to affirm that while the memory can seem lost, it can always be found again.

gif cred: @andremichaux

Also the way Rick says this line with such a tender tone and tears in his eyes and then he looks at Judith with a smile and blinks probably still trying to comprehend that this little lady in front of him is the daughter he last saw as a toddler. 😭

gif cred: @alwaysthequietones

And then Judith cries again as she leans in and hugs Rick and I’m a puddle of tears inside. Like when you think about how hard Rick fought for his daughter all those years on TWD, it’s just so special to now see him get to hold her and already get a glimpse of the great loving person she’s turned out to be.

I know Judith is about to feel so loved and protected by this great dad, and I love thinking about how they’ll now get to reestablish their bond and just have the best father-daughter relationship.

It hit me that years ago, we got to see the very first time both Rick and Michonne ever held baby Judith and how it was a big moment for both of them. While she stirred up painful memories from their past, Judith was also this little bundle of hope for the future in their arms.

And then in this TOWL finale, we beautifully got to see Rick and Michonne hold Judith in their embrace one more time. 🥹

Michonne reuniting with her son and daughter and Rick reuniting with his baby girl were such golden TOWL moments.

With these touching exchanges, the Grimes Family reunions had all occurred. And now it was time for the big Grimes Family introduction. It was time for Rick to finally meet Rick. 😭

So we gotta bring it on home now and talk about the special, heartfelt, and rewarding final moment of The Ones Who Live. 🥰👌🏽

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.06 #RIR (61)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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chrisbesitos · 1 day

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Okay heres another Ballerina!reader x Dealer!chris idea:

Reader is WORN OUT from recital practice, but cant rest until she gets that ONE specific part just right (totally not projecting) so shes working on it for HOURS at home (even with the bloody feet, belive me, its a regualr thing) and REFUSES to stop

idk if that makes any sense but yea

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀you're in love

( warnings: angst (a little bit), mentions of blood, cursing, fluff.

( synopsis: chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

Perfectionism. You always were a perfectionist, at school, at university and at ballet. You have the urge to be perfect and thus fuck with your head, because you don't think you can stop until your good enough. Sometimes it seems like you never will be enough and this hurts, causes not only mentally bruises, but physically too.

Well, you're accustomed to this, because it's how your brain works. Even though the pain is killing you, consuming your feet and legs like a plague. Take a deep breath and keep going, that's what you always says.

It's been hours since you're trying to do a step of your choreography perfectly, but for some reason, you can't do it right. Well, not the way you want to do. Your phone buzzing on the floor takes your attention, almost making you fall in the middle of a pirouette, you groan as you lower down to grab. It was Chris, calling you for the fifth time.

"Damn, doll. I've been calling ya', where have you been?" Chris asks through the phone, you huffs opening the cap of the bottle, taking a few sips breathing hard. "What ya' doin'? I'm fishin' some deals, wanna eat something?"

"Thank you, baby, but now I can't." You reply, holding the phone with the shoulder against your ear. You shift your feet, feeling your fingers sore, you groan in pain. "Shit." You murmured.

"Ya' good, doll?" He asks, concerned about his girl. You nod, forgetting for a moment he's not seeing you.

"Yeah, I'm just practicing now." You bite your lower lip, you need to go back to your training. "Uh, baby, what about you brought us some food? I'll have finished when you arrive here."

"Fine, doll, mind if I choose?" You deny, so Chris okay it and turned off.

You finally could go back to your practice, now putting your phone on the mute. You can't stop more, not even for calls. Chris takes more than a half hour to arrive at your place, you didn't even notice when he gets in. The smell of fresh burgers makes your stomach groans, it's been hours since your last meal, but you didn't realize you were starving until now.

"You still doin' that shit? You said you'll be ready when I get home." He says, putting the bags on the kitchen table, he looks at the living room. The couch was out of his usual place, the tv paused on the song of your choreography and you.

You were kinda a mess. Your hair is tied in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking in your sweat forehead and your cheeks red.

"Did you get attacked by a rabid raccoon?" He chuckles, you roll your eyes ignoring him. Chris raised his eyebrows at her sassy behavior, sipping his soda. "Stop that shit, let's eat."

"In a few minutes, I need to finish this." You say, turning the music on again. Chris sits in the corner of the couch, watching you do your choreography. He smiles, he loves to watch you dance, your delicate movements and the way your body moves, drives he crazy. "Fuck!" You scream, visibly frustrated with your dance, Chris frowned his eyebrows, you were perfect for him. He rested his cup on the ground, lifting from the couch to move towards you.

"What's wrong, huh? You were perfect." Chris says, cupping your cheeks with his hands. Tears were pricking in your waterline from the frustration of failure, Chris sighs pulling you closer to his chest, caressing your back with his fingers. "You're doin' great, babydoll."

"I'm not perfect." You sob on his chest, Chris shakes his head moving you to the couch, he sits and puts you on his lap. He holds your chin, making you look at him with your tearing eyes. "If I stop now, I'll not be good enough." You say, trying to get out of his lap, to get back to your practice, but Chris holds your waist, holding you hard.

"You're good enough, doll. You're perfect f'me." Chris said, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. You sniff with a little pouty in the lips, Chris chuckles cupping your cheeks. "You're the best, babydoll." He kisses your nose.

"I don't feel like I am." You whisper, leaning your head to Chris shoulder, he sighs and massages your scalp. "I'm so tired, my feet hurt." You murmured.

"How about you stop for tonight? Tomorrow I can help you with this." He caresses your thighs through the pantyhose.

"You're gonna dance with me?" You ask, lifting your head with a smile on your lips and your eyes sparkling. You always ask Chris to dance with you, but he always denies.

"Of course no, ma." He rolls his eyes, shifting on the couch with you on his legs. You huff, crossing your arms on the chest, Chris laughed undoing the ribbon from the pointe shoe you were wearing. "I said that I'm gonna help you, not dance with you."

"You're so annoying." You say, removing the claw clip of your hair and putting it aside on the couch. Chris tugged off both of your pointe shoes, gently putting on the ground, he rubbed your feet and your fingers.

"I can leave with this." He shakes his shoulders. "Uh, doll? Your feet are bleeding, is that supposed to happen?" Chris asks with a concerned look at you, he frowns his eyebrows when you slightly nod.

"It happens sometimes, it's okay." You say, caressing his shoulder, you offer him a gentle smile, saying that's everything ok. He rubbed your legs, still worrying about your bloody feet.

"Let me take care of this, 'kay?" He kisses your jaw, gently putting you on the couch.

Chris cleaned the blood from your hurt feet, putting curatives on your fingers, he also put ice and massaged until the pain was gone. He didn't let you walk to the kitchen table, he brought the food to the couch and put on tv your favorite show, he makes sure you're comfortable and good. After finishing eating, he ran you a bath with your favorite products — he's favorite also, because he loves how you'll smell after shower — and he didn't let you move a finger, because he does all the work and you don't complain.

In your bedroom, laying on the bed and under the blanket with all of your stuffed animals on the floor, Chris caresses your thighs with his finger, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands resting on his chest, scratching a bit with your nails, a smile grows in your face when he breaks the kiss.

"You're really not gonna dance with me?" You ask, with a little pouty in your lips.

"Not doin' that shit, go to sleep." Chris says, rolling his blue eyes and lifting to turn the nightstand lamp off. The last sound in the room before the silence was the sound of your laugh, before Chris held your waist and pulled you closer.

he's just a boy in love (but he doesn't know lol) ;)

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

#chrisbesitos 𝜗ৎ #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #ballerina!reader #dealer!chris #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo imagine

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padfootagain · 2 days

Text

Love in Verses (XI)

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Hi! Here is another chapter! On the menu today: a dinner with Sam and Frank… I’ll let you guess how well this will go… (I hope my choice for Andrew's pic for this chapter gives you a clue...)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2933

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Hesitate to call

Lived to see you throwing Me aside. That fought Like nettled fish inside me. Saw you throbbing In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see That all that all flushed down The refuse. Done? It lives in me. You live in me. Malignant. Love, you ever want me, don’t.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

Andrew checked his appearance in the mirror for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

He was nervous beyond reason, after all he was heading to a restaurant to see Sam. And after a long-term relationship, he shouldn’t have felt so troubled by it. But things were different now, things were… complicated, to say the least.

Still, he heaved a sigh, checked his appearance once more. He had let his hair loose, had put on contacts, was wearing a black shirt and some dark jeans. He looked tired, exhausted even. Work was a lot at the moment, he had a thousand things to do. He still struggled to sleep, was still tortured with thoughts and dreams of Sam, of her leaving, of her loving someone else.

November was ending, and with it, the remnants of Andrew’s and Sam’s plans. Plans…

A weekend in Kerry in September. Saimhan with friends. Now, Andrew should be packing. He should be choosing clothes, not for an evening in a restaurant, but for a weekend in Glasgow. A flight late at night leaving from Dublin, another one during the night between Sunday and Monday. And in between, a couple of days just for them, spent eating, visiting museums, seeing the sights, walking around the town. A night in a hotel, one she had chosen, spent on filling their hearts with love and their bodies with lust and desire.

He looked at his reflection again, stared right into his own hazel eyes. They were greener than usual, probably because wearing contacts made his eyes water. He would have been more comfortable with glasses, more relaxed as well, more himself, in a way.

He blinked tears away as a thought crossed his mind, a painful one he wished he could have kept at bay, but he didn’t have the strength for that. Beating himself up was a habit, since childhood. There were thoughts sometimes that formed in his mind that brought him pain, but he listened anyway. Sometimes they were quiet, sometimes they were deafening. These days they were loud and clear.

He went to get his coat, grab his car keys, get ready to leave. He petted Elwood, told him to be a good boy, that he would soon be home. The thought followed him outside his home.

Being himself was never enough for Sam to love him.

Christ, Sam was so beautiful…

It was breaking his heart that they weren’t on a date. As he entered the restaurant, saw her sitting at a table waiting for him, Andrew was reminded of hundreds of evenings spent like this, going on a date in a restaurant, at the cinema, it didn’t even matter where. At the end, they didn’t go out much anymore. Sam always seemed to be too busy for that. At the time, Andrew thought it was only because of her job. Now, he wondered if maybe she had not already started to give up on them.

But he hadn’t. To this day, he hadn’t given up on them…

He kept on admiring her for a few more seconds, until the rest of the table was revealed to him, and the illusion waned. You were there too, facing Frank. The restaurant was posh, he felt a little uneasy in this atmosphere. He wouldn’t have chosen such a place for a date, but he had no doubt that Sam liked it.

He forced a smile as he approached, was greeted warmly by Frank, the first one who spotted him as he approached. You turned on your chair to greet him with a relieved smile, and his heart made a happy jump at the sight of you. He had an ally tonight, he wasn’t on his own…

“You’re late.”

He turned to Sam, his heart dropping again. Her tone was flat, emotionless, and he knew her enough to be aware that it was worse than annoyance. She was angry. He struggled to swallow.

“Yeah, sorry… Had some stuff to take care of before coming.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing it was a lie. Or well, it wasn’t a lie, but the real reason was simply that Andrew was always late. To everything. He couldn’t do much about it; if left unattended, he simply lost track of time. The alarms he had set up had done little to help him tonight. He didn’t add anything, merely took a seat.

“Ha, no worries!” Frank reassured him, and Andrew could tell that he was nervous and willing to make Andrew feel welcome. As a result, Andrew was highly uncomfortable.

“The food looks… interesting,” you commented, trying to drag the conversation away from Andrew, and he was grateful for it.

“The oysters are particularly good!” Frank recommended.

You said nothing, but Andrew frowned.

You… hadn’t you told him once that you weren’t such a fan of seafood?

Indeed, when you chose what to eat, you didn’t follow Frank’s advice at all.

Conversation drifted towards work, and your respective lives. Catching up or getting to know each other.

And Andrew understood Frank’s appeal tonight, as he watched him lead the conversation. He was louder than Andrew ever was, bright, clearly extraverted, longing for people’s attention. He was funny, charming. And handsome, that too, Andrew couldn’t deny that either. His complete opposite. Average height, muscles that threatened the fabric of his sleeves while he passionately talked about his work and moved his hands around, blond with electric blue eyes.

So… that was what Sam longed for? What had made you fall for him?

Andrew tried not to think this way. There was nothing he could do about his physical appearance, his ridiculous height, his gangly stature… there was no need to torture himself over that. He could show that he took care of Sam though. That he paid attention to her. That he loved her…

Because Frank didn’t seem to care all that much. Andrew saw it as you talked about your work, about how nervous you were as you got ready to give your students their first test of the year. And if Andrew was intently listening, Frank was clearly uninterested. He drew the conversation away from your job as soon as he could, offering encouraging words, and quickly moving on. You smiled, but you weren’t fooled. Andrew saw it in the way your gaze saddened, in the way the excitement that had been glimmering there died out instantly. His heart ached at the sight. And when Frank spoke again, Andrew didn’t care.

“Will you set a limit for the length required for the essay?”

Frank grew quiet, frowned. You turned to Andrew, clearly surprised by his question.

“Erm… I haven’t decided yet. I usually don’t.”

“Once a student gave me a twenty-pages long essay…”

“Twenty pages?!”

“Yeah… she was thorough, for sure.”

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“Of course. And now I set a limited word count.”

You chuckled, nodded.

“Maybe I should do that. What about your class about Yeats? Have you decided on a subject for an essay?”

“I’m still hesitating… I want to prepare one about Yeats’s involvement in the Irish Literary Revival… but I could choose one of his love poems about Maud Gonne too.”

You chuckled.

“Why do I feel like they’ll hear a lot about No Second Troy…”

“I love that poem.”

“Anyone who speaks of literature with you for more than ten minutes knows that,” you teased. “It’s a short poem to study, though.”

“Yeah… but that means they would really have to work on each line, instead of simply skipping whatever element they struggle with.”

“True.”

“I feel like it would be easier for them to work on the more political side of Yeats’s work during exam season. The material is easier, and we’ll go thoroughly through the most important aspects of these texts in class. So… I think I’ll ask them to work on love poems at home.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You exchanged a smile. When Andrew looked up at Frank and Sam, they had stopped listening and were both eating their meal in silence. Sam was looking at something on her phone, a habit she had developed in the past couple of years.

She hadn’t asked him about his job. She hadn’t asked him if he wrote, how he felt, if he was suffering because of her. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear his answers. Perhaps she didn’t really care. Andrew was starting to have doubts. The more the evening was progressing, the more he realised that she didn’t seem to care. Sam and Andrew had spent years together, but she wasn’t listening as he spoke of his work, of the things he loved most on Earth.

Did she even care at all about him anymore? She used to listen to him talk about music and poetry for hours, back when they were students…

Or did she? She had never liked his own writing, but he thought she listened when he spoke of what he loved, still. She didn’t seem willing to make an effort these days… but then again, they weren’t together anymore. So, why would she?

“I’ve listened to your record, by the way!”

Andrew blinked, looked at you again.

“What?”

“Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. I’ve listened to it.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Did you? Really?”

You nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

“Of course! I’m going to sound very basic, I think In a Sentimental Mood was my favourite… although I really loved My Little Brown Book too.”

His mouth broke into a bright grin.

“Grand! Like… that’s grand! I’m glad you liked it.”

Frank stared at you for a moment.

“Who are you talking about?” he asked, trying to slither in the conversation.

“Andy recommended me some music! I have a whole list at this point,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow and making him chuckle and blush.

“It’s Jazz,” Andrew explained. “Some of the greatest, honestly.”

Sam heaved a sigh, still focused on her screen.

“Oh… nice,” Frank nodded, although he didn’t sound convincing at all.

“I really liked it a lot,” you went on. “I don’t really have the vocabulary to describe it, like… on a technical point of view, you know? But I liked it. It was very… like… drawing me in, in a way. There was tension, and then once I was trapped in the song, there was so much emotion there… And it’s unusual for me to be so focused when listening to instrumental music. I have a busy brain, I get distracted easily.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I have a busy brain too… but that’s what Blues and Jazz do to me. They kind of… shush my brain. Make it go quiet.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You like music, then, Andy?”

Andrew looked at Frank again, wanted to correct him and ask to be called Andrew… but he didn’t want to seem rude. He didn’t like it, though, how he used his nickname.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Andy wanted to be a musician, back in the days,” Sam intervened, putting her phone down again.

“Really? What instrument do you play?”

“I sing, mostly… play guitar too.”

“But you didn’t make a career out of it? Not that it’s surprising, it’s a tough field to work in. Most people can’t make a living out of it. Like… there’s so much competition, so few who actually get to make it. It must be a tough life.”

“A few of his friends made it though, and he had the talent for it,” Sam went on. “But Andy is not one to compromise easily.”

Andrew stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged.

“You could have had a record deal, had you accepted to change a few things about your songs.”

Andrew huffed, he could barely believe his ears…

“There was never an opportunity for me to record my own songs, and you know that. I didn’t want to sing those… attempts at pop hits that felt soulless to me.”

“And you didn’t get a record deal.”

“I didn’t want that kind of deal. I wanted to record the songs I had written.”

She didn’t say a thing, but her thoughts were loud enough for Andrew to guess them.

And then you didn’t record any of those either.

“Why are you saying all that like you’re resenting me?” Andrew asked, and Sam shook her head.

“I don’t resent you, of course! It was your choice.”

“You do sound like it though…”

“I’m just pointing out that you’re not the kind of guy who compromises much.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow and huffed again.

“You’re one to talk…” he mumbled.

Andrew spent his time compromising. Had he not compromised when he wanted to take a job in London and had settled for Dublin instead because she didn’t want to move there? When she refused to move in with him and asked for more time to find herself? When she chose most of their topics of conversations? When he barely talked about his work?

He let out a long exhale, took a bite of the overpriced fish he had ordered. He didn’t even like the food…

Sam spoke again, about some stupid tv reality she had been watching with Frank, and you listened even though you hadn’t seen it. Meanwhile, Andrew wanted to talk about music with you again. He wanted to ask you about Duke Ellington, he wanted to ask you what songs you liked, he wanted to listen to you ramble about how music made you feel. Your thoughts were always interesting, he could have talked with you for hours… and sometimes he did.

But he shook himself. He wanted Sam. He wanted to have Sam back, and nobody was perfect. There were some things in Sam that annoyed him or disappointed him or that he didn’t understand but at the end of the day she was Sam, and that was enough for him.

He was quieter throughout the rest of the evening, trying to do some damage control over the couple of tensed moments that had occurred during the night.

But then the conversation settled on the wedding itself, and things turned ill all over again…

“And we need to settle on a cake too! Christ, everything is complicated when you’re planning a wedding!” Sam laughed, while Andrew was tightly closing his fists under the table, until his nails drew crescent marks into his palms, while you looked away in a hurry.

“You know… I thought we could choose a strawberry cake,” Frank said. “It’s a classic, most people like those…”

“Sam is allergic to strawberries,” Andrew answered without thinking.

An uncomfortable silence settled across the table.

“Oh�� you didn’t tell me that, babe,” Frank told Sam, who frowned.

Clearly, she had told him before, but she said nothing.

“Well, we’ll choose something else!” Frank shrugged.

“What about your career, then?” you asked your ex, staring intensely at him.

“My career?”

“You… you used to say that you wanted to wait to get married because you needed to focus on your career.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“Yeah… that’s true. I used to want that. But… it’s different with Sam.”

Andrew saw the pain that shot across your features. There was so much anger that ran through his veins then…

“Right,” you nodded.

“Like… my work seemed the most important, but now… not anymore. Or… not in the same way. So, why wait?”

“Why wait, indeed…” you slowly nodded while Frank and Sam exchanged a tender gaze, one that made Andrew nauseous.

He looked down at the piece of cheesecake he had barely touched, decided not to eat it. He couldn’t get anything more down…

The meal ended in a quiet mood, with conversations spent mostly between Sam and Frank, but the couple seemed satisfied with this situation. When they disappeared in a cab together, Andrew felt emptier than ever. A shell without a pulse or any other semblance of life…

“Andy?”

He turned around to look at you standing behind him in the street, right before the restaurant. Your frame was illuminated by both the white light coming from the restaurant’s sign and the orange hues of the streetlights.

He caught himself thinking that you were beautiful, had to push the thought away. But you were. You had dressed up tonight, undoubtedly to impress Frank, just like Andrew had tried to impress Sam with his careful choice of outfit. And Andrew was impressed, at any rate. You were gorgeous…

You offered him a humourless smile.

“Tonight was… a lot, right?”

He nodded, letting out a long exhale through his nose.

“You can say that…”

“I can’t say that it went… incredibly well.”

“No… it was… strange.”

“Let’s put it that way, yeah.”

“I’m not sure it helped us make any progress.”

“I’m not so sure either. On the contrary. But we tried, at least.”

Andrew nodded, looked at you as you heaved a sigh.

“You know what I want right now?”

He shook his head, tilting his head to the side as he waited for you to speak again, his hands now buried in his pockets.

“I really… really… want to get drunk. Like… hammered. Properly destroyed.”

Andrew exploded with laughter.

“You know what… sign me up! Getting very drunk sounds nice!”

“Let’s go to my place. I don’t want to be surrounded by people anymore,” you offered, and Andrew easily accepted.

As he followed you throughout the street, he reckoned that at least one thing in this evening could be pleasant, after all.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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leclerc-s · 13 hours

Text

track two: i wanna taste his lips, yeah, 'cause they taste like you

series masterlist

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

"got a pretty face, a pretty boyfriend too, i wanna be with you so bad."

MID 2020

charles leclerc did not get jealous. he had nothing and no one to be jealous of, besides, it's not like he had anything to be jealous of. he was charles freaking leclerc, there was no reason for him to be feeling the way he was, so why the fuck was he feeling complete and utter jealousy towards oscar piastri? oscar didn't have anything charles could want. charles was the one who was the formula 1 driver, he's the one who was an f1 grand prix winner, he's the one who drove for one of the most historic f1 teams, he was the one people called the predestined.

oscar piastri absolutely didn’t have anything charles could possibly want, except for her. the one thing oscar had that charles wanted, he couldn’t possibly have. the only thing he could do was watch from the sidelines as she cheered him on and raced alongside him. actually charles wasn’t even sure if they were dating but it seemed like they were. why else would they be as close as they were, if they weren’t dating? people just weren’t that close, maybe that’s why people tended to think he was dating pierre.

“stare any harder and people will be convinced you hate him,” sebastian teased. charles turned to glare at his older teammate, “i do not hate him.”

sebastian laughed, “you could have fooled me. or maybe, it’s her you hate.”

“i don’t hate them!” charles shouted, several people turned to look at them, including inés and oscar. charles blushed before turning around to walk away, “i hate you,” he muttered to sebastian, “i’m glad you’re leaving.”

sebastian laughed again, “no, you’re not. who would argue with mattia for your sake?”

“it is very entertaining.”

“enjoy having her brother around next year."

"max warned me about them," charles whispered to the older man. talking badly about a drivers family seemed like taboo to charles. he didn’t even know carlos or his family and yet here he was, gossiping with sebastian about the.

sebastian sighed, "they are difficult, that entire family is. maybe you'll be the one fighting mattia next season."

charles huffed, not satisfied with sebastian’s answer, "but why are they so difficult?"

"sainz. sr is not used to coming second, to anyone," sebastian paused, "it was known between several of the drivers years ago, when max and carlos were toro rosso drivers, that their fathers didn't get along, hell even the media caught on at some point. sainz sr and jos hated each other, rumored it almost came to blows several times. so when max got promoted to red bull mid-season, sainz sr. lost it. carlos was put on a loan to renault, his contract didn't get renewed so he moved to mclaren. i don't think any of his children are used to coming second, especially not with a father like him. everyone talks about the difficulties max faced with jos as his father but i imagine sainz sr was just like him with carlos.”

“but what about inés?” charles question. sebastian sighed, a frown on his face, “a daughter being a racer is not what sainz sr wanted. he wanted her to focus on her studies, carlos was supposed be the one to carry on the family name in motorsports, not her, never her. every time he’s almost given up on her career, inés has proved him wrong. vice champion in two consecutive series, that’s no small feat for a woman. it’s- huge for her, it also helps that she has fernando in her corner backing her.”

"inés seems to be content with being second to piastri," charles pointed out, referring to sebastian’s earlier statement.

"she is a girl in a male dominated sport. if she comes in first or second, she still breaks records. she's not coming second to anyone charles."

"you're wrong," charles muttered, "she comes second to carlos."

sebastian sighed, "trust me, i know," sebastian paused, choosing his next words carefully, "just, be careful next year charles. you don't want to make an enemy of the sainz family."

charles rolled his eyes, "i'll be a good kid, i promise."

"charles, this is serious," sebastian argued, "the sainz family is not someone you want to cross, ever."

charles stilled for a moment, processing sebastian's words, "okay, i swear."

sebastian moved to walk away and charles stood there for a moment, trying to convince himself that maybe, just maybe he didn’t have a weird infatuation with inés. because the way he say the situation, it was weird, he was 5 years older than her, they had first met when she was a kid. granted they only ever held a few conversations, with inés taking a liking to his younger brother more than him. it made sense though, arthur was the one racing in the same series as her, he was the one closer to her in age. charles jumped when her heard someone snickering, he turned and came face to face with fernando alonso, f1’s resident menace.

noticing his startled expression fernando looked at him, and charles was not ready for what was about to come out of his mouth, "eres un idiota."

now charles didn't speak spanish but he sure as hell knew fernando had just called him an idiot. charles was not an idiot, most of the time. so why the hell had he just stared at fernando and only muttered a "what?" and looked like a complete idiot?

"i said, you are an idiot, she is too, and him."

"him?" charles questioned, "who's him?"

fernando chuckled, "use that brain of your leclerc. as checo says, te lo dejo de tarea."

"what does that mean?" charles asked as fernando turned to leave. fernando shrugged as he left, leaving charles just standing there confused. before charles could follow after him he was met with the sight of carlos, the spaniard smiled at him and charles returned it. he looked around trying to spot the older spaniard but couldn’t find him anywhere, charles would have to later ask him how he disappeared like that. before he could even think about leaving carlos struck up a conversation with him forcing him to stay put.

HEARTBURN

"and tell me why does my heart burn when i see your face?"

when oscar first saw charles leclerc, there was no doubt in his mind that he was an attractive man. which left him feeling confused, why the hell was he thinking that about a man? oscar wasn't gay, at least he thought he wasn't, oscar wasn't quite sure. it's not like he ever had the time to discover if he liked boys as much as he liked girls. one thing he knew for sure was that he liked girls, he had girlfriends in the past. all oscar knew was that charles leclerc was an attractive man. and look, oscar had kissed a few guys on a dare, namely his best friend logan sargeant, but those kisses never meant anything. he never felt anything after those kisses and it's not like he'd had what many called 'a gay awakening'

oscar wasn’t even sure if he was just supposed to wake up one day and decide if he liked men or not. were there rules to that? was he supposed to talk to someone? was he supposed to talk to him mum about his feelings? was it supposed to be one of those moments in books where he went oh, oh, and realize he liked men and women? what the hell was he supposed to do?

“mate,” logan whispered, “you’re staring.”

oscar shrugged his best friend off, “i am not.”

“you absolutely are,” frederick chimed in. oscar turned to glare at the dane before huffing out, “i am not.”

before frederick could reply, inés joined them, “who are we staring at?”

“charles leclerc apparently,” logan joked. inés laughed, “are you three finally realizing that charles leclerc is the poster boy for pretty faces in formula 1?”

“wouldn’t that be your brother?” frederick questioned. the dane looked like it had hurt to say that, everyone one in their friend group knew about the rocky relationship inés had with her brother. inés made a face at that, “no, trust me, it’s charles leclerc.”

“what about my brother?” arthur chimed in as he too, also joined them. inés smiled at the youngest leclerc boy, “who you do you think is the poster boy for pretty faces in formula 1. i think it’s charles, fred thinks it’s my brother.”

“definitely lewis hamilton,” logan chimed in. the four of them turned to look at oscar, waiting for his response. the australian blushed, “off the grid? jenson button. on the grid? daniel ricciardo.”

arthur laughed at the australian, “i think it is red bull sebastian.”

inés gasped, “why didn’t i think of that!” she paused for a moment, “but i agree with osc, it’s gotta be jenson button.”

frederick snorted, “yes, it’s 100% jenson button.”

inés sighed dreamily, “i love him, i could marry him in a heartbeat.”

arthur elbowed the australian, wiggling his eyebrows, as if to say, “you wish she was saying that about you huh?” oscar rolled his eyes at the monegasque but it’s not like that had stopped arthur from making fun of him before.

“he’s twice your age,” oscar pointed out, “not to mention married and a father.”

“he could be your father,” logan joked.

inés rolled her eyes at both of them, “age is just a number boys.”

“and prison is just a place,” oscar muttered. frederick who stood beside him, giggled softly. arthur leaned over, “your jealousy is showing oscar.”

oscar harshly elbowed arthur, “shut up.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

later that night, when oscar laid in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling he found himself asking why he felt butterflies in when he had met charles leclerc's eye. that had never happened before, and he had met the older leclerc plenty of times. perhaps it was time oscar actually talked to someone about his feelings but who? he couldn't talk to his mom because that was an embarrassing conversation waiting to happen. he couldn't talk to mark about it because for some reason the older australian put charles leclerc in a box with sebastian vettel. not that mark still hated sebastian, he had been very clear about that, but to oscar it still seemed like it hurt mark to talk about him or anything related to him.

oscar sure as hell couldn't talk to logan or fred about it because all the two blondes would do is make fun of him. not that they didn't do that already but oscar was NOT going to sit through another conversation with them so they teased him relentlessly. besides, oscar was like 98% sure he was just going through a phase. but it couldn't be a phase, there had been that boy in primary school that oscar had thought was cute, then there was that short time period where he had a massive crush on sebastian vettel, much to mark's disappointment. oscar could remember him muttering, "why couldn't he crush on jenson instead?"

which, oscar could admit, he also had at one point, but he could never remember feeling that way towards charles leclerc. he had met charles plenty of times, that's usually what happened when you were friends with someone. arthur had met his family and he had met arthur's family. none of that explained why oscar felt stupid little butterflies whenever he made eye contact with charles leclerc.

then, there was the inés sainz of it all. oscar was sure he had a crush on girl, actually he knew he had a crush on her, he had since before they met. it was part of the reason as to why logan had gone up to the younger girl all those years ago. teasing oscar had always been logan's favorite past time, it still was to this day. what oscar couldn’t understand was how he had developed feelings for two people at the same time.

what was even more confusing was how he had developed feelings for people who seemed like complete opposites. he didn't know what it was but the two just seemed like they would never get along (oh how wrong he was, not that he knew that yet) so there oscar sat, confused not only about his own feelings but why he felt the way he did.

liked by, isahernaez, aidan, lilymhe and others

ines_sainz we go back to racing this week!! i will no longer be rotting in a hole somewhere. (edit: oscar is demanding for joris' rights. 📸 joris_trouche)

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maxverstappen33 you're literally in my spare room watching criminal minds?? when the fuck did you take these??

ines_sainz when we were in australia for the race that never happened?? user01 traveling during a global pandemic?? what the fuck is wrong with rich people?? maxverstappen33 we're in fucking austria for our jobs your moron ines_sainz i'm quarantining with max because apparently i can't be left to my own devices fernandoalo_oficial you nearly set your apartment on fire with a candle.

aidan come back home??

ines_sainz i have a job?? aidan and?? so do i?? alex_albon you're an influencer 💀 user02 you cannot convince me that those guys actually like aidan

oscarpiastri wow, no credits for me??

ines_sainz YOU DIDN'T TAKE THE PICTURES?? JORIS DID?? arthur_leclerc why are you hanging out with joris?? ines_sainz do i have to remind you that our brothers are coworkers arthur?? or did you just forget that?? oscarpiastri wow, no creds for joris?? ines_sainz you're annoying, go away.

louieee baby gorl you are stunning

ines_sainz thank you baby gorl logansargeant THIS IS YOUR FAULT! SHE WON'T STOP CALLING PEOPLE BABY GORL AROUND THE PADDOCK! charles_leclerc it's true. i've never seen sebastian turn so red and we drive for ferrari landonorris glad to know i'm not the only victim. ines_sainz puh-lease norris, you wish i called you baby gorl. i only reserve that for the babiest of baby gorls. alex_albon glad to know i'm in that category. lewishamilton that actually explains so much now

user03 knowing this girl is about to make waves in f3 fills me with joy.

user04 right? absolutely killed it in f4. i can't wait to see what she does later on user05 oh those sainz racing genes go hard

joris__trouche i am being forced against my will to ask for my picture credits...free me

ines_sainz you let a koala of all people bully you into doing this?? joris__trouche he is very good at getting people to do what he wants ines_sainz trust me, i know. i'm still bitter about my tim-tams...

carlossainz55 shouldn't you be training right now?

ines_sainz ximena allows 15 minute breaks ximena.gomez i'm your manager kid, not your trainer ines_sainz same difference

user06 she looks so pretty

user07 right? girl is so fucking happy to be back to racing user08 i, for one, am so fucking happy we're back to racing, i missed seeing 20 grown men go vroom in odd shapes for 90 minutes

charles_leclerc why are you hanging out with my best friend?? without me??

ines_sainz joris said he needed 5 minutes away from you joris_trouche it's true, i did. charles_leclerc i don't want you too hanging out again. you're mean to me when you hang out. ines_sainz you're not my dad. you can't stop me. charles_leclerc i'll tell your dad fernandoalo_oficial you're daughter is being mean fernandoalo_oficial that's my girl charles_leclerc oh-

user09 so is it not a joke that fernando is inés' dad or is it?

user10 at this point no one can fucking tell. like even laura and will are in on the joke. user11 that man is more of her father than her actual father is. i've never once seen that man at an f3 race cheering her on. fernando is always there. user10 it's worse when we know sainz sr is at races because he gets featured on sky or f1tv but he's never at her races. user12 oh my god you people are being so dramatic and for what? he clearly doesn't have the time to see her race in lower categories. user11 but clearly he can attend free practices for carlos...

patriciooward you have to come watch me race at least once this season hermana

ines_sainz let me have time and i'll come to at least one race patriciooward and that'll be?? ines_sainz until at least mid september patriciooward BOOO!!! your job sucks ines_sainz patricio, there was this thing called a global pandemic, you might remember what that was patriciooward i remember you pestered me for hours to play animal crossing with you. ines_sainz and the sims 4 because none of the losers i know wanted to play

user12 inés sainz playing the sims 4 with patricio o'ward was not something i knew i needed.

user13 someone tell arrow mclaren to get pato to play the sims 4 user12 just don't include mods or pato might combust patriciooward what are these mods you speak of?? ines_sainz STOP! NO ONE TELL HIM! user14 uh-oh, i feel like i'm to blame and i wasn't even involved in this. patriciooward oh i'll figure it out eventually. user15 where the fuck were you people when inés was documenting the sims 4 chronicles?? user13 clearly not where ever these chronicles where being documented.

BONUS: THE SIMS 4 CHRONICLES

¡taglist!

@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf1 // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @michelleyw81 // @yeanoskrrt // @greantii // @ietss

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 // @books-thingys-andstuff // @nothanqks // @ale-522 // @aandreea_2005 // @Katness1 // @mgmoore // @Scott-McCall-could-lift-mjolnir // @xxx-betty // @ririyulife // @landonorizzz // @moldyshorts1997 // @itstimeforutogo // @yar16 // @em-andemm // @killjoycra // @angelxxrose

¡leclerc-s speaks!

this whole thing is almost 3k words, which is a lot for me. thought it was finally time to give you guys part 2 for the mini series i have going on with this story. i actually don't know how to write someone struggling with their sexuality all the well so i hope it was at least decent. (any pointers anyone has would be great for future reference)

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #guilty as sin series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #oscar piastri x female oc

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twst-drabbles · 2 days

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Malleus 17

Summary: Most of Malleus’s day is spent zoning out while bathing in sunlight. It’s always fun to see his little lizard brain occasionally spark up an idea.

(I used to have pet lizards. Loved the way their eyes convey the absolute emptiness going on in their brain.)

Malleus hasn’t blinked for the past hour. He just sits there, on the window sill, face turned towards the sunlight as he stared into the lush yard outside. From a certain angle, he almost looks forlorn, like a doll abandoned by the side of the road.

If Sebek was here, he’d certainly be fretting around Malleus, trying to snap him out whatever trance he was caught up in. And Silver would whisper his concerns into your ear, hoping you’d give him ideas as to what’s wrong with Malleus despite being his owner for longer. And Lilia, cute bat Lilia, he’d be trying to goad Malleus into playing a flying game with him just to get him moving.

You walked over, leaned against the window sill, and poked Malleus on the forehead. He didn’t so much as twitch, his eyes remain unblinking. You pushed your finger against his head and watched as he practically became a wobble doll. You let go and Malleus still body rocked back and forth until he was stable again.

Malleus was still staring off into the distance.

You snorted. “Not a thought behind those eyes, huh? Empty-headed little critter.”

Bathing in sunlight always does this to him, like the warmth of sun soothed all the chaos in his head into nothingness.

There’s nothing wrong with him, Malleus was just zoning out for the moment. He’ll be back online in a moment. It’s always entertaining to hear the way Silver describes him, like this little pet was some always caught up in some grand and mysterious scheme. A magical genius so smart that his thoughts escape everyone’s comprehension.

That’s not quite it thought. Malleus is Malleus, and he’s more the kind of pet to get stuck on one particular thought or subject for weeks on end. All pets have different phases and routines, and long-living fae pets such as Malleus were no exception. He’s just slower to get to the next phase.

You opened the window. The wind gently blew right past the both of you, guiding the falling leaves and gently caressing your curtains. You took a deep breath in, and sighed it out.

Suddenly, Malleus’s eyes snapped wide open, back stiff and wings jittery. Energetic, excited about something.

“Oh?” You lowered your head. “Did you get an idea?” Are the gears finally turning again in his brain.

You scratched at his soft belly scales and laughed when he practically launched himself out of your hand. He was practically a rocket as he shot out the window, barely more than a blur as he flew in a pattern only he knew.

This month’s obsession seems to be dizzying flight patterns. All because Malleus witnessed Lilia’s flying right after he finished eating some of Crowley’s fermented peaches.

After a round of unsteady figure eights, Malleus finished with a belly flop on the grass, as Lilia did before. He got up, cleaned himself off, and fly once more. He’s nothing if not determined, that’s for sure. Still, it’s hilarious that he spent the entire day zoning out at your house.

Sure, you were a little concerned when he first did it, but you figured it out soon enough. You did as you usually do and let the pets do their own thing.

Maybe that’s why Malleus likes to come over here often. You’ve never been much of a person that fusses. Unless they’re putting themselves in active danger, you’re not going to bother them every single second of their life.

Well, whatever the reason may be, it’s still made clear that your house is a place to zone out in. You know you do that often. And, you will admit, you love the way Malleus's eyes go all empty like that.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #diasomnia #malleus #malleus draconia #house pet au #reader insert

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factual-fantasy · 2 days

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27 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🔮

Oooo very cool! I hope you have fun with it!! :DDD And as for how I make a story it kind'a depends-

For Grimace, Sylvester and the rest of the gang.. well that was just my Violet team. I gave them personalities that I thought would suit them and just.. went from there I guess? <:D

For Conkeldurr, Zuora, Emboar and the 4 piglets.. well, it started with just thinking about Conkeldurr and how much I like that Pokémon. I pictured him as a Gentle giant and imagined how fun it would be to draw him with some other tiny Pokémon that he adopted. I went through the Unovan pokédex and picked a Zuora because she was small and fluffy <XD

After making a post about them I wanted to give Conkeldurr a friend. Well I like the Emboar line so hey why not do that? She can be a mama Emboar to switch it up and she can have 4 kids. Why not? Since I didn't draw her in that first post, I made the story they they went their separate ways for a time but now they're back together.

I honestly don't have solid concrete advice I can offer- I just think "hey this would be neat" and slap it on there. Or I think "hey this scenario would be fun to draw" and so I structure the events and story to make the characters run into this scenario in a reasonable way. That's really all I do.. <:D

@beryl-shade

I've seen Markiplier play it :0 Its.. well its something! <:D

(Referencing this post)

<XD I never understood why they made him Spanish, the sudden guitar noise is always a jumps care XDDD

@shiny-is-miney

Humans do not exist in any of my Octonauts AUs, nor have they ever <:/

@catain-skyler1987

I do not <:/ sorry!

@nwo-metalscottic

Daww,, thank you 🥹🥹🥹its been rough these past.. how ever many months- my health is still poor and I still am glued to my bed/the couch 24/7.. but I'm hoping to finally see some improvement soon.. and I hope you feel better too! <:))

Any who, I'm glad to hear your views on Conkeldurr! :D Some people can be kind'a harsh :x As for the Tepigs, I can see them sticking around even after evolving into Pignites. They love their mama and would have no desire to leave her.. 🥺

As for what threatens them.. when they were apart, I kind'a image any meat eating Pokémon that thinks they could take them in a fight would be a threat. Or perhaps territorial Pokémon or protective parents that would see a big Pokémon coming near and just attack on instinct.

Now that the two of them are together, they have a lot less trouble with random Pokémon. They're a much bigger challenge to take on as a team. Plus I can see Zuora walking with them disguised as a second Emboar or Conkeldurr. Creating a group that looks like three macho parents that will fiercely protect their piglets.

As for the Minecraft movie, here's the thing about the Piglins. In the actual game they turn into Zombie Piglins the moment they leave the Nether. Why are they still normal Piglins despite running through a village??

And a Netflix show... uhg.. I'm just not interested. I feel like Minecraft looses all its charm when you convert it into a show or movie. And especially if you mess up Steve as badly as they did. Jack Black.. that's the worst casting I can think of.🤦

This is so cool! It feels like it could be canon to the Pokémon universe! :DD

Also thank you so much!! :)))

I have! :0 I watched 8-bitryan play some of it! :) ALSO THANK YOU!! :DDD

@cicutagreninja

WOW!! :00 THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I plan to return to it someday!! :)))

@astaherussy (Referencing this post)

I think I put that on almost out of habit <XD when I picture old abandoned houses I imagine notes stuck to the door warning of debts and bills that need to be paid lest the owners get evicted. So I drew that because it felt fitting!

..Only just now did I realize that the old owners were supposed to be a mystery.. if there was any at all. So having that note on the door doesn't really make sense.. 😅

ALSO WAAHG THANK YOU!! :DDD

I've seen the FNAF movie and I've seen multiple Youtubers play all the FNAF games. Though I haven't played through any of them myself. :00

As for what I thought of them.. I have a place in my heart for all the games. From the lore jumbling ruin DLC, to the classic first game, I'm a total sucker and I love them all.💞💞

The movie wasn't as bad as I feared it would be. I adored the inclusion of MatPat and the intended inclusion of Markiplier. There were some aspects I didn't like and a lot of missed opportunities in my opinion. And of course the lore is all outa whack..

None the less, I think the movie is charming. And my love for FNAF has only strengthened upon the movies release :))

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Since Metagross isn't in Black/White (Its in Black/White 2) I wont be looking into that species for a bit.. and I wont be looking at Mega evolutions-

As for a Quantum slime equivalent, I have no intentions to make equivalents for all the slimes- I didn't add trubbish to be an equivalent to pinks. I just noted that Trubbish are a common slime that can eat anything, just like pinks are :0

The slimes and foods I add will be their own thing. Not intending to replicate or replace any of the canon slimes or fruits/veggies/meats from slime rancher. If that makes sense-

@petrichormeraki

I don't really have any proper name ideas for them 😅 I've just been calling them the shiny one, the normal one, the runt and the big one. XDD

Also thank you!! :DDD

Oooo that's really interesting actually! :000 That would have been a much more tame version of my Zuoras story <XDDD

@pigeonsplural

SLAKJDJ THANK YOUUU!! :)))0

*plotting noises......

(Referencing this post)

This ask will be very relevant soon.. 😈 Also thank you! :)))

@roughsketch2010

WAHGG THANK YIU SOMUCH!! :DDD

@kermit-ydafrog

Daww 🥹 Thank you! MY question is why are you so kind?? :DDD

I've heard of it and seen a lot of fanart, but i never got into it myself😅

Thank you for remembering my boundaries and respecting them! <:) And yeah that paints a pretty vivid picture in my head XDDD

@holly-opal

He would have been a better voice for Bowser then Jack Black in my opinion..

@fandomcenteral

WAAHHG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD And its still a surprise to me that I'm considered a celebrity :00 I hope people aren't intimidated to send me asks because of that.. <:D

@muncho1234 (eye post in question)

Peso, Dashi, Tunip and Ranger Marsh have no eye bags because they have decent sleeping schedules and diets. :0 The rest of the characters either have poor sleeping schedules, deal with a lot of stress, or are very hard workers and burn up all their energy throughout the day.. :(

Oh boy 💀

@minnesotamedic186 (Eye studies post) (Kwazii and Calico Jack hug post) (Ranger Marsh jump scare post)

WAAHGG THANK YOU!!! :DD I ALWATS LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE NOTICE THE DETAILS I PUT IN!! :))))

@caronaro-flipaclip

<XD While I agree with this, I cant help but get red in the face when people like/reblog my old artwork.😅😅 And there's nothing wrong with that! It just shows how far I've come! :)

#my response #pokemon #fnaf #minecraft movie #fnaf movie #welcome home #slime rancher #ingo and emmet #octonauts

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heathermason6060 · 3 days

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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch. 6

(Hes sitting next to you in this pic :D)

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst, SMUT Summary: You search for Daryl after Negan's lineup. You didn't understand the trauma he went through, and eventually you decide enough is enough, and you leave. Notes: The last chapter! Somewhat proofread. Filled with tensions overflowing and then some sex. I had a lot of fun writing this and want to thank @louifaith again for allowing me to write out her idea. It's also pretty long because I didn't want to break it into two chapters, it didn't really make sense that way. Longish read, but longish smut at the end if you're just here for sex and want to skip ahead.

When you found out he left on some halfcocked revenge mission, you were pissed. And then you learned nearly everyone else had gone too, you were pissed and confused.

The rare presence of the others had become more common than the familiar presence of Daryl. He was gone more often than not now, either out with Aaron or off with Rick. Even when he was home, he was never really there. He didn't laugh at your crude insults about others anymore, he didn't want to spend all day with you out hunting in the woods. It looked like was also making an effort to smoke less, often declining your outstretched cigarette. He was the one who got you to smoke once. You used to hate it, but eventually associated the smell of tobacco with him, and you grew to love it.

You couldn't read him like a book like you once did. He'd become overly serious, distant, and uncharacteristically concerned with the well-being of others.

You had half a mind to just leave. The only reason you hadn't left months ago was Daryl, but the way he was treating you felt like a slap in the face. It hurt. For the first time in so long you hurt. You felt utterly and completely alone, leading you to once again close yourself off from the others, spending all your time hunting or scavenging for substances in the city that could make you feel better. You scored an unopened bottle of painkillers, something you once hated, and drowned your sorrows with a stuffed nose and a foul post nasal drip.

The savior issue never really seemed like a big deal to you when it first arose. Some asshole raiders trying to make a point, you didn't give a shit. Rick and Daryl would handle it like they always did.

You took a deep drag from your cigarette as you watched the front gates being opened, two heavy duffle bags over each of your shoulders. You’d come to terms with it, you were leaving, and that was it. You weren't some obedient housewife that didn’t mind the absence of Daryl, you were his best friend and you couldn’t put up with the dramatic emotions anymore. You were fully prepared for the conversations that would ensue, a list of reasons you should stay, maybe some light pleading, so when you saw what came from those gates you froze.

The muscles in your jaw throbbed as you listened to Rick's pitiful attempt at retelling you what happened, his eyes red and puffy, his hair wet and matted to his forehead. He couldn't, so he gave up, and drug his feet into the house, moving in a way that closely resembled the dead. Carl followed, and you realized Maggie was missing too. Your heart dropped.

“What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened?” You gaped, looking from face to face, searching desperately for an answer, only to be met with the ghosts of their former selves. You spotted Aaron and realized he was almost never out without Daryl, and your confusion snapped violently to panic. Michonne was really the only one who wasn't too shocked to speak. She told you everything in great detail, her words cold and harsh as she made her anger towards your insensitive behavior well known. Each word she spoke felt like a curse, spitting at you with such venom you'd never had directed towards you before. You deserved it.

You weren't a good person like them. The deaths of Glenn and Abraham didn't make you cry, go through all the stages of grief and have a mental crisis, in the moment she told you they just felt like problems you’d deal with later, you didn’t have the time. Not when you still had no idea where Daryl was.

Despite not being a good person, you reacted to the news in a way that was very impressive by your standards. You didn't scream at anyone, or punch Gabriel in the face, you just threw your already packed bags in the car and set off.

You chain-smoked an entire pack of cigarettes the first hour of searching. You never did find the saviors home, even though you didn't stop searching to sleep the first few days. You found the location of the massacre, a few shredded pieces of clothing and blood stained dirt. You were brought to furious tears at the thought of the scenario where you were in Daryl's position, and him yours. Your first assumption was that he would've already tracked you down by then, him and his one man army breaking you out and taking you far away from the entire state. Then the second, and more daunting assumption, would he even look? Would he be too busy taking care of Rick and the others, the task of rescuing you put on a back burner?

You told yourself maybe you were just impulsive and stupid, maybe Daryl in that scenario was just being smart and careful, you were just a guns blazing idiot who didn't think far into the future.

It felt like you'd been out there for weeks, living off a diet of cigarettes and various illegal substances. You nearly stuck a knife in the face of a woman who was unlucky enough to walk into the same store you were in.

“No, please, don't.” She sniveled pathetically, her hands raised to the sides of her head in surrender. “I don't have anything. Please. I can take you to my camp, we've got food and water and medicine-”

“Dude, shut up. Just thought you were a walker. Goddamn.” You sheathed your knife and stood back, the tip of your tongue held between your teeth in thought. “But I'm hungry as fuck!”

She took you back to her camp, which was extremely impressive. And just in time, too, your stomach growled noisily and you felt the small waves of hunger nausea begin.

“Put your gun away, please.” She pleaded in a hush whisper as you stood in front of the wooden gates.

You looked to her with furrowed eyebrows, your cheeks hollowed out as you pulled on your twentieth cigarette that day. You really needed to cut back. “No.” You muttered around the cigarette, eventually sighing and slinging your rifle over your shoulder with a dramatic eye roll.

The sight of Rick and Maggie chatting outside with a small group of others felt like you'd been slapped in the face. They looked just as stunned as you were, pausing their conversation. You stood there for about ten solid seconds before the silence finally broke.

Rick opened his mouth to speak but you raised your hand, stopping him. “Don't have time. Just gonna eat and leave.”

“Daryl's here.” The sound of Maggie's harsh voice halted your route to the front of the mansion. You couldn't hide the look on your face, an intense ‘this better not be a lie’ mix of anger and disbelief. She pointed up to your previous destination with raised eyebrows and you took off.

He almost punched you in the face when you jumped him. He was still wet from a shower, littered in various sized bandages and bruises, wearing a fresh set of clothes. He smelled like laundry detergent and cheap flowery shampoos.

“Holy shit I thought they killed you. Holy shit. Mother fucker.” You babbled into his chest as he squeezed you so hard your back cracked.

It felt indescribable being in his arms again. It also felt incredibly different. You'd hugged him hundreds of times but something about this particular hug stood out. It was desperate and deep, you didn’t worry about coming off as soft or being too much. Your fingers dug into the sleeves of his shirt around his biceps, your face buried into his chest, and his hands were all over you. He couldn't decide where to touch you, your arms, your face, your hair, your back, they would move from place to place as he cemented into his mind that you were really there, there in his arms, holding and petting him like you'd always done before. His mind flashed with images of him back in that cell and his throat tightened, the slightest whisper of a whimper sounding in the back of his mouth. He held you tighter and kissed the top of your head, rocking you in his arms for a few silent moments as you pulled yourself together.

“Where the hell you been? Rick said ya left with all your shit.” His voice was tight, the way it would get when he would try not to cry, along with raising in pitch a little.

You looked up and smiled softly, seeing him through a sheen of wet tears. “Doesn't matter.” You hummed as you stroked his cheek. “Really. It doesn’t. I've been looking for you, only reason I'm here is because some bitch thought I was robbing her and told me about this place. Couldn't keep looking if I was starving.” You buried your face back in the fabric of his shirt and sighed deeply.

“Told ya, I ain't leavin'. I ain't dyin’ neither.” His warm words in that deep rumble resulted in your racing heart finally slowing its pace.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You pulled back from his chest to look up at his face. He looked miserable, it broke your heart. He looked away from your gaze, unable to keep eye contact, which was something he never struggled with before when it came to you. “Daryl?”

His head immediately dropped and his forehead collided with your shoulder. Your heart banged against your ribcage and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, stroking the back of his neck and kissing the side of his head while he stifled his soft sobs.

“Let's leave. C'mon.” You parted from him, only to be pulled back by his grip on your wrist.

“Y’jus’ got here.” Daryl furrowed his brows, his eyes wet with tears that he quickly blinked away.

“Yeah, to eat so I could keep looking for you. I've found you, so let's go.”

“Go where?”

You gritted your teeth as his grip on you loosened. “Anywhere else, I don't care.” You said through clenched teeth, your gaze intensifying. “We're done with this shit. Not our problem anymore. Let's go. I'm not letting these people get you hurt again. Never, Daryl.”

Daryl had never been the reason you cried, at least, that's what he thought. So when you started cracking at his rejection, his heart shattered. Every bone in his body yearned for him to hold you, bring you back into his arms and make the pain stop. It hurt even more to see that you weren't just upset, you were pissed, disgusted at the fact that you were showing such weakness in front of the same person who made you cry.

“I gotta. ‘Jus need to do this.” He attempted to comfort you after your rage at your perceived betrayal faded into tears of defeat. “M’doin’ it for us. Ya gotta trust me on this.”

There was a small glimmer of hope then, and you allowed yourself to feel it. You were desperate to believe him, and desperate to believe everything would turn out alright. Rick and everyone else would deal with Negan, you'd scratch that burning itch for revenge, and everything would be okay.

Rick did deal with it, that much came true. At the cost of his son's life, he defeated the saviors.

You were more than willing to fight. You’d been dying for a purpose, and being a soldier in the war against Negan was exactly what you needed. You looked like a cheesy action movie protagonist with two long arm guns on your back and two pistols in each hand. You used more ammo that day than you had in your entire life. God. You wished Merle had been there to see you and Daryl.

You didn't get the revenge you so desperately craved. You absolutely lost it when Negan was defeated. After Daryl decided against killing Dwight, you lunged at the man like a rabid fox, fully prepared to end his life with just your teeth and hands, only to end up clawing and wriggling in Daryl's grasp. You could've gotten over that eventually, it would take a really long time, sure, Dwight was a brainwashed cult member and did what he did because he was told to. And he'd get his, even if you had to restrain yourself. Fine. It’s fine.

But Rick sparing Negan?

No. Your reaction to that earned you the reputation of the group's feral animal. You shared the same reaction as Maggie, but unlike her giving up after a while of being held back, you ended up earning a matching set of rope bracelets and anklets.

“You'll have to kill me.” Your throat burned as Daryl tossed you in the back of a blue Toyota camry. He nearly had to force Dwight into the passenger seat at gunpoint, the terror in the backseat scaring him more than the thought of death.

Your spit was red and thick as it smacked onto Dwight's battered face, blending with the blood that made him unrecognizable. He was barely able to get to his feet after Daryl's threat of death if he was to return, blindly picking up the car keys in the mess of blood spattered leaves.

The relationship between you and Maggie quickly became a deep friendship as you plotted to kill Negan. Neither of you were allowed to see him in his cell without someone to stand guard, but Maggie even moreso. With enough time you were able to get down there alone, gun in hand, only to be stopped by Michonne, who had apparently come for the same reason.

“I haven't seen you much before. What's your name.�� Negan's eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of his cell, seething from the fact that Michonne wouldn't let you kill him yet. She had her own unknown motives, which didn't really matter to you, but all this talking was driving you insane.

“You don't need to know my name.” You muttered, cutting your eyes at the man. “You look so much smaller than I remembered you looking in that field.”

He winced at your words, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Oh, sweetheart. That hurts. Actually, I've been told I'm pretty impressive.”

He watched you as you continued pacing, your hands sweaty and your eyes wild with rage, confusion, and confliction. A smirk spread on his face. “Look at you. Like a lion in a cage. Well, I’m the one in the cage, but. Coulda used a psycho bitch like you. If you were on my side that day, phew!”

You pulled your gun from your waistband and pulled the trigger. Negan raised hands and jumped. Your heart dropped when you were met with an empty click. You inhaled sharply through your nose and pulled out the clip, which was completely empty.

Daryl. He dragged you out of the basement, thankful he’d unloaded your guns the night before. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were planning. He didn't care that you were pissed, Rick wanted Negan alive, so that's what he was going to stay, even if he did want the prick dead.

It didn't take long for you to pick up on Daryl's trauma. He was good at hiding it from others, nothing much had changed aside from him being quieter. But once your selfish rage had settled you noticed small differences. He slept closer to you at night, no longer on the other side of the mattress, and his nightmares became more violent. He'd thrash in his sleep, tossing and turning and sweating, you found yourself waking him up more times than you could count. Each time he'd get real quiet, maybe from shame, and walk outside to smoke a cigarette. You'd follow him each time and sit quietly on the porch steps, not caring that he didn't offer you a hit. He looked like he needed all he could get.

You saw him crying with Carol once. His head dipped down and his forehead pressed against her shoulder. If it had been long ago you would've felt hot at the sight, assuming he obviously must've felt closer to her since he hadn't cried like that with you since his capture, but you weren't as shallow and selfish as you once were. Your heart ached for him, wishing he would open up and tell you what happened, you could comfort him too, you wished you could tell him that.

“Wanna go hunting?” You asked one day, picking up your new hunting rifle, a Savage model 99 that you'd replaced your broken bow with. Daryl shrugged from his spot on the chair beside your bedroom table, not looking up from his work. He was almost always making new bolts in his free time then. He had a pile of twenty-two sitting next to him.

“Come on, I'm craving venison.”

He inhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging.

“Seriously, we haven't hung out in forever man.”

“Hang out?” He said it like you asked him for a ‘playdate’. “What're ya, twelve?”

“No, I'm an adult who misses you, jackass.” You muttered, kicking one of his boots across the floor closer to him. “You've made two hundred arrows in the past week man. I think you can take a break. Yeah, don't look at me like that. I've counted.”

It was when you were alone in the woods that he broke down. You hadn't even asked, he just told you after you took down a buck. He didn't cry at first, he gave a vague retelling, it was only when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders from behind that he cried. His head hung low as his chest shook with quiet sobs, his hands laying idle and nervous in his lap, his eyes looking down at the stump he sat on. You rested your head in the crook of his neck and held him for a while, your fingers occasionally giving his biceps a reassuring squeeze if his breathing grew too ragged.

“I'll kill him. I promise. I'll find a way.”

When you were fifteen you skipped school for the first time. Your freshman year, Daryl's too. It was one of the only times you hung out that wasn't just the right time, right place. He was the one who talked you into it, since the two of you shared a history class. He brought cigarettes and a wild assortment of drugs, no doubt nabbed from Merle.

“We should do this more.” Daryl had said as you walked the power line trails in the woods behind the school. He shrugged when you looked at him, his gaze falling to the grass in front of him. “Hang out, I mean.”

“Yeah, we should.” You flashed a rare smile, earning one from him as well, the purple skin around his eye wrinkling.

You never did. You were too busy with school work and getting beat on by your withdrawing mother. Daryl wasn't really busy, in fact, he was alone most of his teenage years. Always alone out in the woods. Sometimes he'd miss school for a week, living in his father's tent deep in the forest, spending his time learning to live on his own. His father never noticed, not until the school called and he got one of the worst beatings he'd ever gotten. You saw him at school a few days after that, one of his last days before he dropped out.

He looked awful. Busted lips, bruises all over his arms, light purple handprints on his neck, and deep purple blotches around his eyes and jaw. The school called the police, but nothing ever happened. Daryl told them it was from a fight with some kid, and they happily accepted that answer, eager to miss out on the paperwork.

“We should just leave.” You said after he pulled the cigarette back away from your lips to take a drag of his own.

“I would.” He muttered as he held the smoke in his lungs, watching the kids in the far off soccer field chasing the ball. His legs dangled off the edge of the school roof, occasionally swinging a bit.

“I would too.” You wouldn't. Not until you got your brother back. You looked at him, feeling an unfamiliar twist in your heart when you saw the way he flinched under your sudden gaze. “I'd kill him if I could.”

You truly meant it. Even though Daryl was barely an acquaintance at that point, you would have killed his father if you got the chance. Daryl didn't mean much to you to be brutally honest, you didn't care to form a deep friendship with anyone, but you shared the bond of trauma from parental abuse and that was deeper than any normal friendship. He could leave, never see you again, and you wouldn't be upset, but if you ever had to witness his father touch him it would shatter your soul.

You promised yourself you'd kill anyone who ever hurt him after that. You almost murdered Andrea when you found out she shot him. You risked being eaten alive by walkers just to make sure the Governor was really dead. You beat Dwight until Daryl dragged you off, if he hadn't done that you would've killed him.

Things got a lot worse after the day of your failed assassination attempt. Daryl was never home anymore, either at Hilltop or Ezekiel's kingdom. You had reached the point of considering leaving again. The emotional rollercoaster you were going through was taking a heavy toll on your already fucked mental health.

He could see the effect his absence had on you, and it made him feel like shit. There wasn’t much he could do, he had so many responsibilities and he would never ask you to come with him and Rick every time they packed up and went on long trips every five seconds. It felt selfish to him, he didn’t know that you’d be more than happy to accompany him.

His hands on your tense shoulders as you sat on the edge of your bed did wonders to loosen you up. You set your gun down beside you and looked up to him, forcing a smile.

“C'mon sweetheart. Wanna show you somethin’.”

He took you on a long walk in the woods to a secluded pond that once belonged to a fisherman, obvious by the raggedy dock and small wooden shack filled with all sorts of fishing tools. There was still homemade canned fish in his cupboards.

“Gonna stay here for a few days. Jus’ you an’ me.”

You watched him over your can of trout, chewing slowly. “Really?”

Daryl shrugged and stabbed his fork into his own can. “Yeah. Ya need it.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “We need it.”

Your heart swelled with warm joy, a smile spread on your face and you tried your best to contain the satisfaction his gift had given you. You missed your best friend more than anyone you’d ever missed before after your baby brother. You’d come to terms with the more than likely possibility that he was dead, and so were your parents. It took a long time and many different weeks spent searching when you were back in Georgia.

You had a fantastic time with him. You fished all morning, talked all afternoon, and ate your fill of fresh and canned fish. It wasn't long before you set up your bedrolls in the middle of the shack and blew out your candles. It felt amazing to sleep next to him again, you couldn't properly put into words how much you missed him. The feeling of his large warm body next to yours as you fell asleep had you thinking that it was all worth it. He was making an effort to spend time with you again, and with that effort came the sparks of hope, hope that you were getting your best friend back.

You woke up the first night spent with him in the fishing shack to see moonlight seeping through the holes in the tin roof. You rubbed your blurry eyes and sat up, propping yourself up with an elbow on the floor.

“Daryl?” You murmured sleepily as your eyes came to focus in the dim light. His bedroll was still beside yours, albeit empty. You waited a few minutes before walking outside, assuming he just had to go piss or something.

Ten minutes passed before you walked back into the shack, now carrying a small candle to light the room, cursing when the wax dripped down your knuckles. The amber glow illuminated his bedroll, bringing attention to a small white square. You leaned down and picked up the piece of paper, squinting in effort to read his handwriting.

The pain in your chest was deep and dark. Growing up you had grown used to being disappointed by your parents and people around you. It never surprised you. Even now you didn’t expect much from people, but Daryl was that exception. So when you read his little apology, claiming Rick called on him through his walkie to request his help in the Kingdom, you decided you’d had enough.

He had been in the Kingdom for about two weeks until you heard from Rick that they were back.

“We're leaving.” You seethed the moment you stepped into your new shared bedroom with Daryl. It was upstairs in one of the apartments in Alexandria, no longer the basement in Rick's house. You had a nice king sized bed, lots of dressers and shelves, a big ass tv, and even a gaming console that once belonged to Carl. Daryl had only slept in that bed three times since you moved in months ago.

He sighed your name and stood from his seat at the table, setting down the disassembled gun he'd been cleaning. “No we ain't. Cut that shit out.”

“I can't be here anymore. I can't. I can't.” You began hyperventilating as you ripped the dresser drawer fully out, falling to your knees and quickly grabbing the clothes that spilled out.

“Stop.” When you didn't comply he made you stop, grabbing your wrists and forcing you to look at him. He spoke in that serious tone that felt like a stab to the chest, his eyes burning holes into yours. “I'm not leavin'.”

You froze at his words. Your mouth opened and your lips trembled, your breath catching in your throat. The words never came to you. You just stared at him with wide eyes and a horrified look of disbelief.

Daryl didn't speak either. He stood his ground, maintaining a firm gaze, his grip on your wrists slowly loosening.

It hurt. And that made you angry.

“Who even are you anymore?” You hissed, tearing your hands away from him and shooting up on your feet. “I never see you anymore, you're cold, distant.” He got to his feet, accepting each blow of your words with this calm face that turned your anger into lividness.

“You promised me you'd never leave me. You promised you'd always be the one thing Daryl, the one thing that wouldn't change, wouldn't leave, wouldn't hurt me, I kept my promise!” Your finger hammered against your own chest in reference. “You say you're never leaving but you already left! I can see it in your eyes, don't look at me like you have no idea what I'm talking about.” Your face burned. “I can see it. The pity, the disdain. The only reason you haven't just kicked me out is cause you feel like you're obligated to me now, or maybe you're scared I'm some loose canon and I'll burn this fucking house down-”

Daryl had heard enough, he lurched forward until he was inches away from you, his nostrils flared due to his increasingly heavy breathing. “You're fuckin’ delusional!” He spat. “You don't think this is hard on me too? Don't think I'd rather be out there livin’ in some cabin with you? That shit ain't happenin’, these people are family. I ain't leavin' ‘em neither. Shit don't mean I don't care ‘bout ya anymore. We ain't in Atlanta, ‘ts not like that anymore. Ain't just me you ‘n Merle.”

“We should've just left. We should've just left.” You repeated in a breathy whisper, your glazed over eyes locked on his chest.

“Yeah? Well, we didn't, now we can't. Now I won't.” The purposeful enunciation of the last word was the straw that broke the camel's back, and he immediately regretted it as soon as your eyes squeezed shut. “G’damnit.”

“Fine.” Your breath was shaky, and you resumed packing.

He found it impossible to stop you, impossible to move. In reality all it would take from him was a simple request for you to stay, but he couldn't even manage that. It felt like watching a fire you started get out of control, he knew he still had the power to stop it, but he was too stunned to move.

You zipped up the same second duffle bag you'd packed with the same intention on leaving, just as you'd done before. This time though, it wasn't the same. It felt too final. You knew it would be the last time. Daryl did too, and he still didn’t stop you.

You’d set up camp deep in the woods down a dirt road that led to a pond. You slept in your car with your campfire a few feet away, a pot of wild carrots and rabbit simmering over the coals. It smelt amazing due to your stolen beef bouillon cubes, but you didn’t really have the motivation to eat. You flicked away the first cigarette of your last pack and stared into the red hot coals, watching them ebb and glow until the flash of something large and dark caught your eye.

You stared in disbelief as you watched his figure move through the thick trees, making his way over to your little camp beside the car you'd stolen from Alexandria. He had a heavy bag with him.

He plopped his bag down next to your fire and sat down, helping himself to a bowl of your stew. He said nothing, not even looking up at you as he finished your supper.

“The hell are you doing here?”

He looked up at you and sucked the grease from his fingertips, the empty bowl now discarded at his side. You had no idea how he’d managed to get his fingers coated in rabbit fat, it was fucking soup and he used a spoon. “Ts’it look like?”

You couldn't move, your feet glued to the debris of the forest floor. Your mind spun with questions. If he was actually willing to leave with you, leave all those people behind, why had he shut you out? Why had he changed? What changed?

“I don't want you here. It's an obvious act of charity.” You finally spoke, watching as he lit a wrinkled cigarette. “You told me yourself-”

“Will ya shut up?” He squinted up at you through the burn of smoke. “Jus’ walked six damn days to find ya. M’not leavin'.”

You sat on the opposite side of the fire in silence. He scooted around to sit next to you, and held his cigarette up to your lips. You took a weak pull and sighed. After a while of not speaking, you broke the silence.

“You're so different. Changed so much”

He nodded at your words, his head tilted down to stare at the leaves between his legs. “Had to.”

“Why?” The question burst from your lips so quickly that it surprised you.

“You.” He took a deep pull off his cigarette and blew it out the opposite side of his mouth to avoid blowing it directly in your face. “This ain't the kind of life you deserve. Tryin’ to get that for ya. That little house ya dreamed of living in, one with a screened in porch for plants ‘n shit. Life that ya ain't spendin’ hungry, cold, scared.”

He paused for a moment, taking another long drag. “Wanted me to be better too. The kinda man to pick ya flowers, take ya on dates, all that stupid shit.” He flicked the spent cigarette into the fire and leaned back against your car door.

If it was possible, you were feeling every emotion all at once, in such a rapid and disorienting fashion that it looped back around and made you too shocked to feel.

He delved deeper, explaining that he felt you deserved better than who he once was, Merle’s echo, a loud and angry asshole, then turned into a cold and traumatized shell, never allowing himself to feel vulnerable with you again. When he finally broke out of it and realized exactly what he wanted, he worked on himself in a determined attempt to be the man you dreamed of marrying as a kid.He worked on your surroundings as well, making sure to eliminate any possible threat in every colony that had even the slightest chance of risking your livelihood. But more importantly, he wanted to be yours. The type of husband you described when you were thirteen years old, cleaning the blood from his swollen ear one of the nights he slept on your back porch.

“I'm not gonna be like my mom.” You had said firmly, tossing away the bloody tissue paper. “I'm gonna get a good husband and I'm not gonna mess it all up like she did.”

“A good husband?” He questioned curiously, wincing as you dabbed his ear with rubbing alcohol.

“Yeah, like…. He'll take me on dates, open doors for me, buy me cool stuff, uh….” You trailed off in thought. “He's gonna build me a house too. With a screen porch that I can put a hundred plants in, and he won't be allowed to smoke in it. Oh, he won't smoke, actually. Or drink, or do drugs. He'll never hit me or yell at me like my mom did to my dad, and to me. He'll be handsome too. And smart.”

You were brought to the present with a jolt as Daryl’s hand touched your knee, making you jump. You didn't notice your eyes had started watering and you quickly went to discreetly dab them dry.

“Guess I fucked up. M’sorry. Was a real piece of shit.”

“No,” your voice broke as you stopped him, grabbing his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze. “Complete opposite of a piece of shit. I had the wrong idea, I should be the one apologizing.”

“Tsh. Nah.” Daryl waved you off and shook his head. “Should’a told ya. Wasn't thinkin' right.”

The two of you sat in thoughtful silence until the embers began to grow dim. The forest was thick, so even though the sun was visible as it sank lower and lower, it soon became too dark to see properly.

“My…” you broke the silence, searching for the right word. “Aspirations have changed since then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Several seconds of silence.

“How'so?”

“Well, I don't care if he smokes, or does drugs, or curses or can't take me out on a date. He doesn't have to build me a house, but that's still an option.” Daryl snorted, and you went on. “But he does have to own a crossbow, ride a motorcycle without a helmet even though I tell him to, and he definitely needs this,” your finger tapped on the skull tattoo on the back of his hand before sliding up his arm to stroke a line down his back, “and these tattoos. And this.” You touched the mole over his upper lip. “And he definitely has to slur all his words together because of his accent.”

“That's all, huh?” He joked softly, watching you draw your hand away from his face. “Y’got some low standards for a husband.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. He also has to go back to his family, because that's where he belongs.” There was a quick flash of hurt on his face, his lips parting and his eyes narrowing, so you continued. “And because that's where my dream house is going to be built.”

In all your years knowing Daryl Dixon, you'd never been sexually intimate. You'd never had sex, flirtation only being reserved for playful teasing banter, you'd never really kissed, aside from that one night at the Greene farm. You'd laid with each other multiple times, more often than not sleeping curled up together in the woods or on the floor of some house. Despite never being sexually intimate there was an unspoken mutual understanding of your relationship, you were together, but not in the traditional standard sense. Neither of you ever had interest in a relationship with anyone, that was simply out of the question. Why have a partner when your best friend is everything you need?

He became your partner at some point, maybe that's why it caused so much anguish to the both of you when you left. But it was only that night that you solidified it. And the next morning, and in the back of the car on your way back, and on the hood of the car, and after your shower back home, and after dinner, on your bed, on the floor, a second time after that, right before bed, and again the moment you woke up.

It started with a kiss, which just so happened to be his second ever kiss, the first being you in the back of Dale’s RV. You wouldn't have ever guessed, the way he kissed with so much passion and vigor felt akin to a man kissing the same pair of lips he'd kissed his entire life. And you would have never guessed he was a virgin.

Each touch was as if he was handling precious glassware. He never took off any of your clothes, he'd just gently tug at your shirt until you got the hint and undressed yourself.

At some point you moved to the back of the car, he laid you down and closed the door behind him. Your soft pants and gasps quickly led to the windows fogging over, and by the end of it there were beads of precipitation dribbling down the glass.

He led graciously. His fingers were gentle but firm against your clit through your panties, working hard and with determination to give you the orgasm you deserved. He obeyed your requests for ‘circles, ah, softer, to the left, more’, and before long he was a master in the art of making you come.

Daryl wanted to give you oral, but you quickly pulled him back up, shaking your head as you gasped for air. “N-no, please. You. Need you.”

It was shocking that he didn't feel embarrassed when he came early. You'd reached down to stroke his cock, only getting in a few strokes before he pulled away with a strangled gasp, spilling his hot cum on your bare stomach. He didn't have time to feel embarrassed because only seconds later you were taking him in your desperate mouth, giving it your all to make him hard again.

He didn't take long. After stiffening in your mouth he eased your head away, maneuvering you on your back in such an effortless way that it made you look like you weighed nothing. Due to your wetness and unimaginable arousal it didn't hurt at all when he finally pushed in after rubbing his cock all over your desperate slick flesh.

You cried out anyway. Your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back, clutching at his bare shoulders when you felt his pelvis fully connect with you.

“F-fuck.” You groaned as your eyes rolled back, digging your fingers deeper into his skin.

He let out a moan then, a light and vulnerable sound. You could feel him shaking on top of you as he fought not to finish again. It broke your heart, knowing he wanted to have sex with you so badly, to please you like you had him.

You stayed as still as humanly possible while you waited for him to move.

Daryl’s breath slowed and he moved, finally. He fucked you slow at first, slow and deep thrusts that managed to bury his dick further and further inside you each time. With each thrust he let out either a shaky whimper or a deep grunt, and soon he was picking up the pace, fucking a moan out of you each time he drove his throbbing cock back inside.

When his hand connected with the warm skin of your torso you whimpered, tossing your head back against the car seat. His hands stroked your sides, rough and dirty fingers scraping against your nipples and breasts. He gave one a firm squeeze, eliciting a sharp moan from you, one that he eagerly swallowed down with his hungry mouth, kissing you deeply and feverishly. He was breathing heavy through his nose, hot puffs of air sending waves of heat across your upper lip and cheeks.

A rough slam of his pelvis against yours sent the tip of his cock so deep it was almost painful, your gasp choked in your tight throat, your thighs squeezing the life out of his torso. He groaned at how responsive you were, his hot wet lips sliding down your face to start kissing your neck.

Daryl was quiet in the sense that he didn't say much. He groaned and whimpered, sure, but he hadn’t said a word since entering you. Which was totally fine by you, but you were a sucker for dirty talk. It was one of your favorite parts of sex.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, hoping to get a response. He just grunted, a possible returned compliment, his head not moving from the crook of your neck.

A noticeable increase in his pacing had all thoughts vanishing from your mind in a puff of smoke. You could feel the side of his jaw clenching against your neck, the skin hot and prickly with stubble, the friction eventually becoming uncomfortable. As if he could read your mind he raised his head and looked down at you, the tip of his tongue peeking between his teeth, looking like a man in deep, oh, deep, concentration.

“Fu-uh-uck-” You babbled, your heavy eyelids shutting against the brutal force of his thrusts. You grabbed onto his biceps again and held on for dear life, giving them a squeeze each time he gave a really deep thrust.

“That’s it.” Your heart jumped in your chest at the sound of his voice, it was gravely and sounded from the base of his throat. You felt your lower stomach do that delicious flip sensation, your clit throbbing in response to his voice.

“Mmm’god.”

“I know. I know.” He breathed, taking a second to readjust himself between your legs before going back to his artistic thrusting. He was grinding against you then, barely pulling out, using the full weight of his hips to force himself as deep as possible while he ground into you. You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, it was a miracle that a virgin could fuck like that. He was a savant at something he’d never done before. You came hard around his throbbing dick, your walls clenching down so hard that it ripped his orgasm straight out of his body.

You gasped, your fingers tightening around his flexed biceps as your orgasm shook through you in violent waves. You moved your hips on your own, grinding up and against his pelvis to draw your pleasure out for as long as possible.

Daryl wasn't expecting it, he just came. His jaw dropped and he held onto the nearest body part, which just so happened to be your neck. He didn’t choke you, which came as a slight dismissible disappointment, he just held onto you with his large hands as he finished. It was so sudden and unexpected that he couldn’t control the sounds he made, better for you, he let out this beautiful high moan that sent flashes of Daryl in Atlanta behind your closed eyes. His body shuttered and jerked as every single rope of his cum flooded your insides, coating your vice like walls like spilled paint.

You didn’t give him time to recuperate. You squirmed under him, swapping your positions, and took his softening cock in your mouth. He groaned under you, grabbing you by your hair to pull you away, only to shudder when he felt his cock growing hard again. You smirked against the tip as he gently pulled you back down.

Halfway through he tugged you off of him, the two of you switching spots once again. You whined when you felt his lips connect with your puffy clit, your mind swirling as he used the flexed tip of his tongue to drift between your slick folds.

“Oh god, daryl.” You panted and ran your fingers through your sweaty hair to push it back over your head. You were either extremely sensitive due to the two orgasms, or he was an extremely skilled pussy eater. Either way you came fast, clenching your thighs around his head to clamp his mouth tight against you. He didn’t ease up as you came, his tongue and lips pulling tricks you didn’t think possible, drawing out your orgasm longer than any time previously.

He slid up between your legs, planting kisses from your wet mess up your stomach to your chest. He suddenly bit down on one of your nipples, gentle at first, but the moan that came from your lips had him tightening his teeth.

You were under the impression that he would ease you down from your high with light kisses and soft touches, but apparently, he had other plans. His cock plunged back into you before you had any idea what was happening, and he quickly set a fast and intense pace. His hands slipped around both of your wrists and pulled, using the leverage to both fuck you deeper and keep you firmly in place.

If you could’ve seen the state you were in, you’d be a red hot embarrassed bitch. Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes fluttering between open and closed, sounds coming from your throat that envied any moan and whine to ever come out of a woman's mouth. Your hair kept falling back in your face each time his hips slammed into yours, no matter how many times you hastily pushed it away or tucked it behind your ears. You looked at him for as long as you could, but you were too stimulated, it was too hot, he was too beautiful, you had to let them fall shut as you came again.

As cliche as it sounds, your final orgasm, for that night at least, was world shattering. You didn’t care how loud you were or what types of faces you were making. Your body was completely out of your control, your brain on pause as it struggled to deal with the flood of dopamine and oxytocin.

Daryl wasn’t looking any better, he’d ran miles before and came out looking more put together. He huffed as he came inside you yet again, his dick twitching with each spurt of cum. He braced himself on his elbows on either side of your body, his head drooping down as he managed a few sloppy thrusts. He muttered something then, something you were too fucked up to make out through his thick and slurred accent.

When he finally drew his red and tender dick out of you his heart seemed to skip a beat. The two loads spilled out the second he withdrew, trickling down your folds and over the swollen head of his dick. That was a sight he’d remember till the day he died.

You fought to catch your breath after he all but collapsed on top of you. It was pure bliss for a few moments, and then it was too hot and too close. Before you could say anything he lifted himself off of you, still waging his own war against his lungs.

“Getting old there, huh?” You teased, sliding up into a sitting position after grabbing your panties. Yeah, he's old, it's not the fact you just did the same amount of exercise as swimming across the atlantic ocean.

“Shut up.” He breathed as he wiped his damp hair from his face.

After a few moments of silence, apart from the sounds of your breathing, you dressed yourselves and began loading all your shit into your car.

“You really walked six days? No bike, no car?” You questioned as he plopped down into the driver's seat, the flame of his lighter illuminating his face. The smell of cigarette smoke had you leaning over and he pressed the filter against your lips.

“No bike.”

“That’s kind of stupid.”

“Huh. Rich.” He smirked around the cigarette at you before glancing over his shoulder to watch the dirt road as he reversed.

“Yeah, true.”

Your life wasn’t magically fixed after that night, and neither was Daryls, but it did get a lot easier. You zipped up your coat but your shoes were still full of snow, that kind of better. A lot of shit happened, you had your arguments, but no fights. After RIck died you ran off together looking for his body, for Daryl’s closure, living off in the woods somewhere with a dog that liked to growl at you. He was over possessive of Daryl, and so were you, so the two of you were butting heads often.

He never did build you that house, but you moved into one of the newly built homes in Alexandria. He did build you a back porch, which looked great for someone who’d never built an entire screened in porch before, even if it did look a little raggedy in some spots. He even brought home pots for you to plant ‘shit’ in, as he said.

Daryl wasn’t home often, which didn't bother you anymore, because you were out there with him.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @louifaith @my1fx @jinx-nanami

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coffeegnomee · 2 days

Text

Bacon saying "yes. [I watched] the entire thing" about having seen Kab's new video "I watched it for entertainment purposes, but I also think I took some things from it as well"

KAB: "fair enough, I put things in there knowing people would watch it and take things from it"

she brings up how Clown never offered her a team, and that she is close to getting his full trust. Which I think is a lie rooted in the truth that she was so "my son could never hurt a fly he's just misunderstood" in the video to get Clown to trust her more irl/in lifesteal. Like how he trusts Branzy and Ferre.

(even though it is SO WEIRD for her to have been like that about Clown in the video. Like it was an exposé about how right the Mice were to be cautious about her affiliation and assume she was telling him things. She was. Maybe not base coords, but she just leaked that she absolutely told him things about them and that she was not for the team at all. And she left that all in. why? WHY Kab? I can only assume it was to endear her to Clown more? That's the only thing that makes sense? Unless she did it to "prove" to the Mice that they were wrong to assume she was teamed with Clown, "see I was just telling him to be careful and you guys were making him into a villain" or smth. I genuinely don't know. I don't understand her at all.)

But she's bringing it up to Bacon and downplaying it so that he thinks she isn't as close to Clown as she is. She's trying to manipulate him here I think.

then Bacon brings up the google doc of Mapicc's personality, which apparently Mapicc dmed her about (which is hilarious for the record)

To which she says it wasn't real [the doc itself], she made it for the video. She only articulated Mapicc's personality and Mapicc's alone.. which obviously means it was him very much on purpose. So did she do it to stoke Mapicc's ego? Or to see what he would say about it and confirm or deny if she was right? I can so easily imagine her writing it up being like, now Mapicc will think I understand him but this is not really what I think about him and he will be easier to manipulate.

But the analysis, like I wrote about, was right for the wrong reasons, AND YET I saw how they were rooted in very plausible assumptions she would have made bc of talking to Ash.

So I struggle to see how that writeup wasn't what she genuinely thought. This whole video just feels like exactly what she genuinely thought throughout the whole first week.

And it's completely rooted in the concept that she knows what she's talking about, even though her only evidence is that she can read Clown. (the only other moment being that she was right the empire would betray them in the End. Which was the softest of softball throws. It was an allyship against the other team. Obv the beef starts up the second that is over.) Like congrats. You've known Clown for two years very closely. It would be weird if you didn't. And on THAT note,

She called Woogie a dipshit for having his own opinions about Clown based on his interactions with him for the past FIVE whole seasons. THREE YEARS.

She took his words as saying that you shouldn't trust Clown instead of what he was really trying to say, which was we as a team should not trust Clown. Kab knows Clown won't kill her but she just fails to understand that other people have their own valid experiences of the members. She's just so focused on her singular view of people and how they will interact with her that she completely misses the opportunity to learn what other people think of other people without it being an attack on her own opinion.

I know I get on here and analyze everyone to death. I know that that's how I love to watch and enjoy lifesteal. And that not everyone observes the lifestealers like bugs to be pinned down and dissected. Watching vods is a listening-only experience. I cannot talk or add to the convo, right?

But it still boggles my mind that she doesn't see the manipulative value in silently listening to every word that comes out of someone's mouth in order to learn what they think about others. And let that tell you what to think about others.

If she just listened to what people said, especially what they say about people she doesn't understand, she would learn SO much.

Like she completely called Woogie an idiot for wanting to ally with the Empire for the purpose of killing Clown Mane and Flame.

And she said it because she doesn't understand how Mapicc and Spoke think.

And because she doesn't understand them, she thinks Woogie doesn't understand them.

Like I know Woogie isn't always the most active and integrated member, and he's also an unreliable narrator and has assumptions rooted in a subjective path just like she does.

But Woogie AND Mapicc AND Spoke have all been playing on this server since Season ONE. You would think that that would be an excellent learning opportunity to ask Woogie how he views Mapicc and Spoke.

And then from there, sure! Take it with a grain of salt. Take your personal experiences with them as the most important opinion to value for your own safety (bc nobody can tell you what your gut says) but then also take their opinion and use it against them if you want to be such a great manipulator. Or at the very least catalogue their opinion away for further study at a future time.

It's just. She just has her assumptions about herself towards every member and completely and totally discounts what anyone has to say about their assumptions of themselves with other members. And she gets so damn triggered by people saying they have more experience than her, thinking it's a personal attack on her intelligence. Where that comes from I cannot know but that sounds incredibly deeply rooted.

So back to the Bacon conversation.

She said she knew people would watch it and said stuff on purpose.

And yet she completely left in the whole scene about lying to Woogie about being sorry for discounting his opinion. “Sometimes you need to be sopping wet for people to trust you chat”

Everyone on lifesteal is going to watch this video. WOOGIE might watch this video (though I have a feeling he won't tbh) and you're just leaving in that when you apologize you are never sincere about it and are 100% using that to manipulate them later.

INSANE to leave that in. You leave that in the drawing board. You keep that shit hidden. ESPECIALLY if you know your enemies will watch it. Girl was the most open book ever.

And then to end the video saying I'm a liar and manipulator bitch I know what I'm talking about. Insane. You are just BROADCASTING that you should never be trusted ever. (for the second video in a row!)

Also in a video about you desperately trying to prove that you should be trusted. It's two different kinds of trust, funny that we use the same word for both.

Trusted in that you tell the truth vs trusted that you know what you're talking about.

I am so interested to know what Bacon thought of that. What will he think if she does apologize now? He's not dumb. He saw the video.

She just thinks she's playing 4D chess. And yet 4D chess would be being silent and listening to what everyone says. Like how Spokes does. and Clown. No talking, just silently listening in vc's and coming to conclusions about the members.

And Bacon too. He's been asking people so many questions about what they're doing and why and then just listening to what they have to say, and then forming his own conclusion about it and going off to try something. He's becoming great at listening and thinking and this whole little arc was founded on using that information to do something interesting on the server.

Though I suppose he wasn't always that good at it. And therefore the final conclusion you can take is the same every time: Kab needs experience in order to gain experience. And it will be a long and painful process.

#lifesteal #kaboodle #gnome rambles

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ninjatrashpanda · 2 days

Text

The Other Shoe (Waiting for it to drop)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Today's prompt is "Coming Out Scenes!"

Read it on AO3 here.

“I, uh, I think it’s time to face the music,” Buck whispered, tugging on Tommy’s sleeve. His eyes wandered over to his parents, who had watched him and Tommy like hawks throughout the entire reception, though Buck had a hard time predicting what they were thinking. On one hand, therapy had been going well, and while The Buckleys would probably never be the big happy family Buck had wished for as a kid, Mom and Dad were trying. They had been nothing but supportive about him being Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor last year, and Buck would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a pang of appreciation when they had stood up for him against Chimney’s father and stepmother.

On the other hand, well, these were his parents, and old fears die hard. While they had apologized for how they had treated him and Maddie and become better, there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him they’d just be disappointed again. The fact that his mother hadn’t managed to get rid of the bewildered look on her face since he had dragged Tommy into Chimney’s hospital room didn’t help.

“Should I be scared?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck chuckled, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale. He stole another glance at his parents, then shifted his gaze to the floor, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust. “Nah,” he said, though he admittedly wasn’t even able to convince himself of that. “Not scared. Just... prepared.”

Tommy followed Buck’s gaze across the room, where Buck’s parents stood stiffly by a wall, half-empty champagne flutes clutched tightly in their hands. Buck knew they had been mingling just a few minutes ago, but he still couldn’t help but feel that they looked, well, out of place. While they were nothing but polite, they didn’t really mesh with anyone else, and always seemed a little awkward.

“They don’t seem like they bite,” Tommy observed, in that casual, dry tone Buck had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks. In an instant, a part of his anxiety evaporated and bubbled to the surface in a barely held back snort.

“Not literally, no.” Buck ran a hand through his hair with a shake of his head, the slight smile Tommy had brought to his face staying on his face. “It’s just... history, you know? They’re trying, and I get that, I do. But sometimes it’s like...” He trailed off with a shrug, struggling to find the right words. “It’s like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tommy nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze Buck’s. Buck had told him the basics, how Maddie had practically raised him, how their parents had been neglectful and controlling. He vaguely knew about Daniel, too, though Buck hadn’t delved into the whole Savior Baby thing yet. The subject was…touchy, to say the least, and while he knew he had to breach it at some point, he wanted Tommy to have as neutral an opinion on his parents as possible. They were putting in the effort, so Buck figured they deserved that much.

“Well,” Tommy said, squeezing Buck’s hand again, a bit firmer this time, “if things get weird, you’ve got me for backup. Just say the word, and I’ll distract them with my fake mouth static.”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, which surprised even himself. Tommy had a knack for diffusing tension, and Buck was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he had gravitated toward him in the first place. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand, drawing strength from the contact, before letting go and straightening up.

“Good idea. You’re renowned for your fake mouth static after all.”

“Damn right I am.”

They stood there for a moment, neither quite willing to take the first step towards the inevitable conversation. The reception was starting to wind down, (because the nurses were kicking people out now) so at least if this developed into a scene, not too many people would end up seeing. Chimney, now recovering well after the whole viral encephalitis debacle, was in high spirits, chatting animatedly with Hen and Karen. Maddie was close by his side, smiling brighter than he had ever seen, seemingly refusing to let go of her new husband’s arm.

The love between them gave Buck a tiny surge of courage. If Maddie and Chimney could find happiness after everything they had been through, then maybe things could work out with his and Maddie’s parents too.

“Alright,” Buck said, straightening his posture, bracing himself for impact. “Let’s do this.”

They crossed the room together, Tommy a step behind Buck, offering silent support. Buck’s parents straightened as he approached, their faces neutral masks. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and Buck could hardly blame them for that.

“Hi,” Buck said, forcing a smile. “You probably have a few questions.”

His mother’s eyes softened, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in them. His father cleared his throat, his grip on the champagne flute tightening just slightly. The atmosphere was stiff, and the air felt thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Hi, Buck,” his mother replied, her voice wavering just a bit. Buck was actually (positively) surprised that she used his nickname, though he had to admit it sounded almost foreign in her voice. “Yes, we, uh…” She glanced at his father, who nodded, urging her to continue. “We do have some questions, but—”

“We don’t want to push,” his father interjected, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re just… trying to understand.”

Buck nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. They weren’t throwing accusations and bad faith arguments around, so that was a good start. Still, Buck knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. He hadn’t spoken about the big B yet, after all.

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite outgrown. “I figured. And, uh, it’s okay to ask. I know this is… a lot.”

He could see the moment his mother tried to put on a brave face, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were surprised, that’s all,” she said. “When you came into the room with…”

She trailed off, her eyes moving over Buck’s shoulder to where he knew Tommy stood just a foot or two behind him. He took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had thought about it for weeks at this point, had said it out loud to himself in the mirror, but not to anybody else, not even Maddie or Tommy.

“Tommy.” He turned slightly, reaching out his hand out to Tommy, who took it into his own with a smile as he stepped up. “Mom, Dad, this is Tommy Kinard. He’s my date. He, uh… he’s the reason I figured out that I’m bisexual.”

The words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Buck could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears almost deafening. He knew this moment was pivotal (one of the most important in his life, probably) and the weight of it pressed down on him like the world on Atlas’ shoulders.

His parents exchanged glances, and Buck could see an onslaught of emotions flitting across their faces: surprise, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of something that could be hope. His mother’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, and his father took a small step closer to her.

Tommy, for his part, stayed by Buck’s side, his presence a quiet but powerful anchor. He gave Buck’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise that he was here, and that he wouldn’t leave. Buck was grateful for that; it reminded him that no matter what was going to happen, he wasn’t alone.

His mother was the first to speak. “Bisexual,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Her brow furrowed slightly, but there was no trace of anger or disappointment in her tone. Instead, she seemed...curious. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”

Buck could see his father’s jaw tighten momentarily before he let out a slow breath. “Buck,” he began, his voice careful, deliberate. “This is…this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that we’re listening. We’re trying to understand.”

Buck nodded. This wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t exactly acceptance either, not yet, at least. Still, it was something, and in this moment, something was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a lot,” Buck said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to get it all at once. I only figured it out a few weeks ago, too. I just wanted you to know, because…because it’s who I am. And Tommy… he’s important to me.”

His mother’s eyes softened at that, and Buck could see her shifting, recalibrating her thoughts, trying to process this new piece of information about her son. “Tommy,” she said, as if tasting the name for the first time. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and there was something in her gaze that was almost…gentle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, his usual confidence replaced by an almost shy nervousness. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Buckley. And Mr. Buckley,” he added, nodding respectfully toward Buck’s father.

Buck’s father gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained unreadable. “Tommy,” he repeated, his voice a bit more measured. “You’re… Buck’s boyfriend?”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. Obviously that question would come up. He should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. He and Tommy hadn’t even really had that conversation. He’d certainly like for Tommy to be his boyfriend, he just wasn’t sure if Tommy was at that point yet. It had only been a few weeks after all. They had been on four dates, one of which was a complete disaster, and another that hadn’t even been a date at first, but an apology for the date that had been a complete disaster.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, his tone steady. “I’m his boyfriend. And I know this might be surprising, but Evan…he means a lot to me. I care about him.”

Buck’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Tommy to say it outright. He had expected a lighthearted “Not yet” or “We’re seeing each other.” That he’d gone right ahead… Buck’s heart swelled just a little bit. He squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter, grateful beyond words. Tommy’s answer made Buck just a little braver.

Finally, his mother spoke again. “I…I see,” she said, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. She looked at Buck, her eyes searching his, as if trying to reconcile the son she knew with these new things she was learning about him. “And you… you’re happy?”

Buck felt a lump rise in his throat. It was such a simple question, but it carried so much baggage. She wasn’t asking if he was happy with Tommy. She was asking if he was happy with himself, something that would’ve been absolutely unthinkable just three years ago.

“I am,” Buck replied, his voice growing more assured. “I’m happy, Mom. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

His mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision within herself. She reached out then, tentatively, her hand hovering in the air for a moment before she placed it on Buck’s arm. “That’s all we want, Buck,” she whispered, her voice wavering a little. “We just want you to be happy.”

His father, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat again. “It’s…a lot to adjust to,” he admitted, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But if this is who you are, and if this man makes you happy, then…well, we’ll do our best to understand.”

Buck felt a surge of relief wash over him, so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was something. Something good. It was yet another step toward healing their relationship, and for that, he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for not, like, freaking out.”

His father gave a small nod, and his mother’s hand tightened on his arm, a silent reassurance that they were, in fact, trying. Tommy smiled and wrapped his arm around Buck’s shoulders, Buck leaning into his side almost automatically, enjoying the warmth of their connection.

His mother glanced over at Tommy, her expression softening further. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner before we fly back to Hershey, Tommy,” she said, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “We’d like to get to know you better.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the invitation, and Buck didn’t blame him. It was already unusual that Tommy had met his parents this early, but getting invited to family dinner? That was big. “I’d love to, Mrs. Buckley. Thank you.”

Buck’s father gave a curt nod, not quite ready to add anything further, but his stance had relaxed just a little. There was still a long way to go, a lot of conversations to be had, but in that moment, Buck knew they were moving in the right direction.

As the reception continued to wind down, Buck stood there with Tommy by his side, his parents before him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a cautious sense of optimism. The journey ahead would be challenging, there was no doubt about that, but they were all still here, still trying, and that was more than Buck could have hoped for when he first approached them.

As they exchanged a few more words, lighter now, less fraught with tension, Buck realized that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Not just acceptance, but the willingness to grow, to move forward together. And maybe that was enough to help the wounds of the past heal.

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