#i think it’s kind of like. the whole shy and mildly awkward combination

[bilbao-song]

any speculation why Jeff has those awkward younger sibling vibes? lol I find it cute

tbh he’s just cute in general but i do know exactly what you mean lmao

[sultryvodka]

𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙚! 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 | 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚 - 𝙢𝙖𝙮 4𝙩𝙝

warnings: mild swearing, mildly suggestive (if you squint lol)

| armin - colt - eren - jean - porco |

armin arlert

• i think most, if not all of us, agree that armin looks like the type to get all flustered with PDA & shy away from his emotions --- HOWEVER.

• rather than being all over you, he finds himself most comfortable with holding your hand or having an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

• he wouldn't mind you being clingy though 👀

• would occasionally place a gentle peck on your forehead, cheeks & his personal favorite; the palm of your hands.

• you guys' dates would mostly end up being in a library, café & restaurants with a nice warm atmosphere.

• i bet he would be the kind of guy to take you to the beach whenever you're stressed out in hopes of calming you down.

• gets very defensive when his friends tease you, if a man could bark his friends away, it's armin arlert.

• this lad over here would establish a routine with you (with your consent & opinions ofc)

• mondays to friday mornings are centered on school, you guys do your own thing at school & walk you home while making sure to stop by a convenience store for snacks, assuming that you guys don't live together yet.

• both of you make it a point to check on one another to make sure you guys aren't wearing yourselves out.

• which leads me to the conclusion that your parents grew very fond of him & treats him more like their child

• when you guys are having a sleepover, this whole lowkey facade of his takes a 180 and the second you reach the bedroom he'll shower you with cuddles and kisses.

• you would watch movies (mostly rom-com just bc armin makes it work okay) tucked in a warm futon with popcorn and candies between you two.

• armin strikes me as a very studious guy and he does this to ensure you guys' future together ^-^

• all in all armin cares about you so much and he doesn't mind being vulnerable to you. he is your safe haven, and so are you to him.

colt grice

• okay can we talk about how this perfect man deserves some more attention

• colt, my man, gives me disney's prince florian vibes. the soft-spoken, kind-hearted, & just an absolute dream.

• he's the kind of guy to take you to the park, a greenhouse, & WORKSHOPS!!!

• given the idea that he is in fact a shy little baby, he is actually pretty active with you. every date you guys have is different. mans has a quest planned out for y'all.

• at school i think that you might be the one to initiate skinship. doesn't have to be kisses on the lips, it's more of gently trailing your index on the back of his hand or rubbing a hand on his forearm when he gets a little anxious.

• the type to peek through your classroom's door because bubba's too shy to ask someone to call for you 🤧

• colt, in my opinion, is very domestic in private, now don't get me wrong he may be a little too shy in public because he isn't used to it but i promise you he takes on the nurturing role of the relationship more than you are.

• he helps you with cleaning, folding your clothes, and god if you guys get periods, he's got a whole pouch in his locker just for you.

• he doesn't do it intentionally, he happens to know you so well that he notices the slight change in your moods & cravings.

• colt often reads a book while you guys cuddle during the afternoons once all the work is done, he'd make you tea or whatever you want. he hums a tune, probably from old disney movies that his brother falco used to enjoy as a kid.

• your parents are more invested in your marriage than you and colt combined.

• okay, now if you happen to have a baby or a toddler somewhere around the house, someone keep this man from turning into a putty.

• as much as colt acts prim and proper most of the time, he has his moments where he just wants to be an entire mess. perhaps sleeping past his usual waking time, indulging in more snacks than usual. you know, loosen up? yeah, that is a side of his that only YOU will ever be allowed to see.

• so yes you and colt would be labeled as the: put-together couple who needs a little bit of adventure every now and then.

eren jaeger

• i hope i don't ramble too long because i love him sm

• mr. loverboy over here is a simp for you, more than you are a simp for him! he is not afraid to show you off and shower you with flattery. now he does this because he feels so lucky to have you.

• he can be a little cliché (well maybe not as much as jean --- more on that later), like he'll randomly interrupt your vacant class with a gift box he put together, & a bouquet. yes. (carla helped him pick out flowers from her shop)

• he's the type to crash his lips with yours in the middle of campus when you achieve something or when he does, vice-versa. if he plays in one of your school's teams, there just HAS to be a bet that if he wins he gets a kiss... or more... or something else.

• dates with eren are usually random than planned. like it pops in his head and he'll inform you right away. he respects your vacancy too of course but if you aren't he might pout just a little bit.

• his ideal dates are prop shop dates, going to hotspots, amusement parks, antique shops! & maybe late night drinks at a quiet bar where you can both enjoy the solace of the atmosphere.

• on special occasions, he does plan ahead. usually it's something on the simpler side. candlelit dinners at home or somewhere you guys both enjoy dining.

• if eren's had a bad day, best believe that he will run to you for comfort. only you can help keep his aggressive response to anger at bay.

• if given the chance he would take you around the world, he's that passionate in making sure you live a little

• hear me out... you and eren would probably have the most philosophical conversations, just laying on your backs beneath his room's skylight? heavenly.

• eren can get a little poetic expressing himself & i believe that it's just wonderful. no one can describe their feelings as good as eren.

• his favorite look of yours is when your eyes beam with excitement, it usually happens when you spot something that you used to enjoy as a kid or when you're concentrating on one of your hobbies.

• he's a very touchy person too, his hands are usually on your stomach/waist, his kisses are random & they linger for awhile.

• when you're asleep next to him, it's his habit to solemnly watch you while his own drowsiness starts to take over.

• eren is passionate & sometimes people might take it the wrong way. one of the reasons eren loves you is because of the way you understand how he is. mutual growth for y'all ♡.

jean kirschtein

• jean is not afraid to pull a live performance for you, you see this man is at the top of the world when he's with you. from 80s hits to recent releases this man will blast his playlists catered for you.

• dates with jean are certainly spent on concerts, (him & eren bond over chase atlantic don't argue with me) music festivals, thrifting & late night drives!!!

• personally, i don't see jean as very gimmicky unless you guys are with his friends, he takes you very seriously and you are his top priority.

• at school i think he's definitely one of those flirtatious boyfriends. the kind who would not miss an opportunity to blow you a kiss or throw you a wink. he can be a bit of a dork, who wouldn't be? if he can get one of your rare smiles 🥺

• jean's the type to ask his pals for help when it comes to styling. not because he dresses badly but he's too focused on getting a flush on your cheeks. he's a hopeless romantic.

• if you guys happen to stay at home, he'll definitely serenade you with the amount of songs he had written recently just for you.

• since he bonds with sasha and connie, his jokes are either dad jokes or something that went viral on tiktok. he's the perfect balance of goofy and mature.

• if you aren't much of an active person he wouldn't mind being lazy with you and insist on a diy spa day at home.

• it's just netflix with a tub of ice cream and face masks on.

• since jean is quite the romantic, he would be into couple outfits or items that aren't cringey obv and probably doesn't mind using your perfume or vice-versa.

• jean probably asked you out during one of his gigs, offering you a single rose afterwards.

• he's the type to leave you random post-it notes if he visits your house. just random phrases or doodles. and boy does he pick you up every single day on his smexy motorcycle.

• he'll bring you coffee and breakfast to-go. this man's spoiling you baby.

• aside from that, i feel like jean would make you hand-made gifts with the help of his momma. he thinks it's sentimental when you make your presents because it's one of a kind.

• jean does all these things because he's 100% about you being a constant person in his life. he loves how he can be whoever he wants when he's around you, i'm certain you guys wouldn't have it any other way either.

porco galliard

• porco can be a dick if he wants to not to you though, this tough guy turns into putty just for you. he definitely loves being treated like a baby.

• at first he might come off as cold because he isn't used to the whole romance thing and he gets flustered with the slightest pecks so you might have to initiate at first.

• but once you guys get through the awkward phase this boy would straight up greet you with a passionate kiss and does not give a damn about everybody who witnessed it. he might even have a stupid smirk on his face.

• like eren, i feel like porco would be very passionate and intense. he doesn't say much but he definitely shows you just how much he adores you.

• speaking of friends (: reiner would tease him every second of the day. i bet he would team up with bertholdt to annoy this poor boy. annie and pieck's not much help either.

•whenever you're stressed, porco would run you a bath and give you massages very often. he'll sit on the edge of the tub while he runs his hand through your hair.

•his type of dates would be watching at a cinema or a drive-in, going to the mall just to look around,he's a simple guy.

•if you guys happen to have an argument, porco would distance himself for a few minutes to a few hours just to process the situation and avoid anything his aggression might cause.

•he knew that if he wanted you guys to work he needed to be better.

•he would come back though and hold you in his arms while you guys talk it out.

•i bet he's one of the aot characters who would be an athlete, so most days you'll end up watching him practice.

•overtime, porco would be more open to being intimate in public and post stories of you two just doing things most couples do.

•he's proud that you're his and he's all yours.

•porco is a great guy and he would do anything just to make you smile.

i hope you guys liked these~! let me know who you guys want to be in the second part. requests are open and as always, stay safe! - 🌸☁️

[pellucidity-is-me]

A Plan

Summary: Albus Dumbledore hears of a small boy—Remus Lupin—who was recently bitten by a dangerous werewolf. The boy-turned-werewolf is only five, but Dumbledore has already made the decision that he will someday be enrolled in Hogwarts: a feat which has never been achieved. First chapter from my longer fic (link in blog description)!

Wordcount: 2727

Dumbledore sat in the Hog's Head, trying to avoid the gaze of his furious brother. They never talked now. Dumbledore could understand why, but it did feel a bit childish to be bickering like... well, like siblings. He listened to Aberforth scrubbing the counter in a sort of agonized rhythm. Aberforth was still staring, eyes narrowed—perhaps Dumbledore could not see it, but he could feel it. "Just a few more minutes and I'll be out of your hair, Aberforth," Dumbledore said lightly. "I am afraid that this is the easiest place for secret information to remain secret."

"I had to shut down my pub, just for you," scowled Aberforth. "We can't all be rich and famous, Albus. Some of us have to make an honest living instead of pulling political strings for the greater good."

Dumbledore winced. All of their meetings went like this. "This is important," he said. "And Clark is an honest man."

"Clark Darnall is a werewolf."

"An honest werewolf, then. He is doing good work and he has important information. I might as well offer him a drink at one of the best pubs in Britain."

"Flattery won't work on me."

"I am not trying to flatter. I truly do not mean to bother you, Aberforth—" Dumbledore glanced up at the portrait of Ariana and sighed. "I do not mean to bother you," he said again. "Please. One hour."

"I wish the whole world knew that you aren't the paragon of light they think you are," hissed Aberforth, slamming down his towel. He sat down behind the counter. Dumbledore heard him cross his arms.

Silence. The only noise in the room was the sounds of Aberforth's annoyed huffs and the tapping of Dumbledore's long fingers on the tabletop.

Minutes passed. Suddenly, the door flew open.

"Albus Dumbledore. Oh, thank you fer meetin' me." Clark looked just the same as ever—all mussed brown hair, unhealthy frame, dirty face, and ripped robes. His strange accent was the same as ever. Clark Darnall had been bitten at age nine and had escaped to Greyback's werewolf pack shortly after. The pack, from what Dumbledore understood, was a conglomeration of all kinds of different people and nationalities. Clark's accent was a strange combination of a lot of different places. He hadn't lived in human civilization in a little less than twenty years. Dumbledore's heart ached for his plight.

"My pleasure. Sit down, Clark. Aberforth, if you would..."

"Don't speak to me," said Aberforth, slamming two cups of Butterbeer on Dumbledore's table. Dumbledore stole a glance at Aberforth for the first time. Sure enough, Aberforth looked ready to kill him. Never mind that, thought Dumbledore. He turned his attention back to Clark. Dumbledore's relationship with his brother, he suspected, was a lost cause.

"You said that you had pertinent information, old friend?" said Dumbledore gently, and Clark bobbed his head up and down.

"Yes. Yes, sir, I do. I... werewolves... you know. No one listenin' in?"

"Not a one. Except for Aberforth, but he's a very moral man. He can keep a secret."

Aberforth scrubbed harder and grunted an agreement.

"Tha' man. Aberforth. He doesn't like werewolves much, hunh?"

Dumbledore smiled. Clark wasn't usually this blunt, but a werewolf who had lived amongst other werewolves all his life often misjudged humans' ability to hear spoken comments. Heightened senses were a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse, according to Clark. "He can hear you, Clark."

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Ab... Aberforth. So sorry."

Aberforth did not grace this with a reply, so Dumbledore broke the awkward silence. "How much time do you have?"

"'Bout an hour till Greyback notices I'm gone, p'raps less. I should hurry."

"I'm listening." Dumbledore took a sip of Butterbeer.

"Greyback's been excited lately. Dare I say over the moon." Clark chuckled weakly. "There was this man, while ago. Fergot his name. Somethin' like... Loopy, I guess. I'll remember later, prob'ly. But he sort of insulted Greyback... Greyback had a spot of trouble with the Ministry, you see, and was brought in fer a proper hearing. Pretended he was a Muggle tramp. Almost got away with it, 'parently, but... the bloke, Loopy... he didn't buy it at all. Clever man."

"Do you know anything else about this man?"

"Greyback was goin' on abou' Boggarts. 'Parently the bloke was an expert... and then they hired him at the Ministry. Somethin' like Crocodile fer a first name... you know my mem'ry's not all there, Albus."

Dumbledore paused. An expert on Boggarts who had been hired by the Ministry... Crocodile Loopy? Dumbledore's mind started to conjure pictures of the young man whom he had taught years earlier... brown hair, shy demeanor, studied various subjects for fun... sense of humor... got into fights with other Hogwarts students at times. Mostly mild-mannered, but a temper. "Lyall Lupin," he said heavily. "It was Lyall, wasn't it? I taught him." Dumbledore started to picture what possibly could have happened between Greyback and Lyall that made Greyback so happy... a fight, perhaps? Lyall lost? The full moon was a few weeks ago... was Lyall killed? Or bitten? Poor man.

"Yup, Lyall Lupin. Tha' was it, I'm sure of it. Well, Lyall saw righ' through Greyback. His coworkers didn't believe him, and Greyback mentioned... Greyback said they sort of taunted Lupin a bit. Seemed happy abou' it, whatever it was, but I don't know what they said. Ministry let Greyback free and tried to Obliviate him, but Greyback escaped. Ministry knows what 'e looks like now. Greyback was hoppin' mad abou' tha', he was. Face's all over the papers. Can't go undercover anymore. But 'parently Lupin said that... werewolves were... heartless, soulless... creatures? I do'nno. Also implied we should all die."

Dumbledore closed his eyes. Oh, Lyall...

"So I guess Lupin both insulted Greyback and outed his appearance to the media, and Greyback was goin' on abou' revenge for a full day. 'Twas the day before the day of the full, you know. He was tellin' the story to everyone who would listen. Called us all together. Plotted his revenge. Said he was goin' over to Lupin's and killin' him. Said if the whole world knew who he was, he might as well make it worth it."

"And...?"

"And he went over to Lupin's a bit before the moon rose. Came back. Looked pleased. Blood all over."

Dumbledore felt a bit ill. "Lyall...?"

"Perfectly fine. 'Parently Greyback went out and scouted the area. Watched the house fer a bit. S'not just Lyall livin' there, he has a family. Wife. Kid."

Dumbledore felt even more ill.

"You know how Greyback goes after the kids. Ecstatic that there was a little lad there. Big Lupin got away with not even a scratch, he did, but Greyback meant to kill the kid."

So there was hope after all. "Meant to?"

"Meant to. Lad was only 'bout five, Greyback says. Tiny thing. Asleep before half-seven. You know children tha' young don't survive the firs' full, so there was no point in bitin' him and lettin' him live. So Greyback decided to... you know. Rip 'im apart. Leave 'im barely recognizable. Wanted to hurt Lupin, he did."

"Meant to?" Dumbledore repeated. Clark had always had a flair for the dramatic; he certainly liked to draw things out for maximum suspense. It was usually entertaining, but right now it was just mildly annoying. "You said that he... meant to kill the child."

"Yeah, he did. But he says he only got one bite in before Lupin heard noises and scared 'im off. No sense stickin' around when a wizard's got a wand and s'firin' curses at you." Clark chuckled. "Miffed parents are dangerous, and Greyback's not stupid. Says it was still fun, though—lad didn't even scream; too stunned to do anything but stare. Greyback was pretty happy abou' how things turned out. Says it'll be a lot more fun for Lupin to live with a werewolf kid for a month. Said it wasn't possible fer such a young lad to survive the full, so Lupin would either have to put 'im down or let 'im die with the rising of the moon. But he regretted that he didn't get the kid fer himself. Younger ones taste better, he says."

Dumbledore shifted in his seat with discomfort. Clark was desensitized to such talk, having grown up among werewolves, but Dumbledore was not. He wasn't entirely convinced that Clark did not ever bite or kill people on the full moon, but he would never voice his reproaches to Clark. Clark was, after all, a good informant and debatably a good man... yet Dumbledore would not hesitate to protect anyone whom Clark may be willing to attack. "Continue, Clark."

"Righ'. Well, tha' was two and a half months ago, tha' was. Lad's been through the first full. Lupin let 'im live, which Greyback found surprising. But you know what's even more surprising?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"The kid lived. Had his skeleton torn apart at the age of five, he did, and he didn't die. Mostly they've got to be at least five and a half, and even tha's rare. Greyback says seven is the best age. Greyback also said the kid wasn't even five yet when Greyback bit 'im. Close, but not yet—he was four. Family was talkin' 'bout fifth birthday prep'rations, he said. Lad prob'ly transformed for the firs' time righ' aroun' his birthday. Only five."

That was rare, certainly, but Dumbledore didn't see why it was such important information. "So...?"

"So tha's a big deal! You prob'ly don't understand. Yer brigh' and all, but you can't understand. In the werewolf world, tha's huge. Greyback went and discovered a kid who somehow got past all the laws of the world. Tha's why he's so happy. Got 'imself a protegee, he said. But when he tried to go get the kid and bring 'im to the pack... lad refused."

"Do you know the child's name?"

"'Course I do. Remus Lupin. Greyback's been sayin' it over and over, like it's a song stuck in his head. He gets obsessive sometimes. Scary. The fact that Remus refused made 'im even happier. Usually he can go into the child's room sometime before the second moon, cast a Soundproofing Charm, and then convince the kid to come join. After they've been through the firs' full moon they'll do anythin' to make it better, and Greyback makes sure the parents aren't aroun' to make the decision fer their kid. So tha's what Greyback did with Remus. Sometimes he makes us do it, but he really wanted to do it himself this time. Never seen 'im so excited abou' anythin'. His heart was going a mile a minute, it was."

"But Remus refused?"

"Yup. Greyback did all the normal stuff... promised he could make the pain go away, said it was almost like a cure, said Remus'd meet other kids like 'im. Greyback even said that he tried to act all nice and fatherly, but none of us believe 'im. Anyway, lad heard that Greyback could help an' then flat-out refused. Said he wanted to stay where he was. Also a big deal, Dumbledore... pain's a lot, an' kids don't offen have the presence of mind to make their own decisions."

"I see."

"Greyback tried Plan B, as he always does when the kids refuse. Took off Soundproofing Charms, let parents in. Sometimes the parents love to get the kid off their chests. But Lupin wasn't having it, 'parently. And Lupin can duel, so Greyback left. Lupin still loved his kid, even though he'd hated werewolves just two and a half months ago."

"Fathers do tend to love their children," murmured Dumbledore. "Lyall was always headstrong, but I never had any doubt when he was at Hogwarts that he'd do the right thing."

"Don'no if it is the righ' thing, meself. Remus Lupin's not gonna have an easy life. People're gonna hate 'im. And he's only five. He migh' have been better off with us... plus, I kinda wanted to meet him, I did. After Greyback's said so much abou' him."

"He will be better off here," said Dumbledore. "He will. Lyall is a good father, I'm sure."

"Yeah, well. They moved, after Greyback found 'em the second time, but Greyback isn't worried. Loves that the lad has a mind of his own. Says he'll go find Remus later when he's grown and try again. Says it's somethin' to look forward to. He's always so much happier when he has somethin' to look forward to. We're always scared of 'im after the euphoria of the last full moon dies down and he's got a whole month to go. But now he's practically bouncin' off the walls. No tellin' whether Remus'll survive the next full, but I hope he will. Really wanna meet the kid, I do."

"So do I," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "But I imagine that the family is going through a lot right now. You're right, Clark. This certainly changes things. You always do bring me good information."

"Least I can do after you saved my skin few years ago," said Clark. "Heckin' werewolf hunters. Execution's the worst way to go. Well, I'd better get back before Greyback wonders where I've been. See ya sometime, Albus."

"See you sometime," repeated Dumbledore, smiling. He watched Clark go. The second he left, the smile dropped off of his face. "Aberforth, you needn't listen. But I need to talk things through." Dumbledore stood up and began to pace.

"Oh, joy," said Aberforth sarcastically.

"Armando is set on retiring, and I—forgive my arrogance—expect to be headmaster in a few months' time."

"Of course you do."

"Lyall was always a good man. He will raise Remus to be a good man as well, I am certain of it."

"If you think werewolves can be good."

"I do. And I think that, since Remus is so young now, he will have had a chance to adapt to the curse by the time he is eleven..."

"Oh no," said Aberforth. "Absolutely not."

"I heard that Lyall has married a Muggle. I believe her name is Hope. Remus might be nonmagical... but with Lyall's talent, I suspect that he is a wizard. I shall have to check, but I would not be surprised if his name is already down for Hogwarts. If I can create arrangements for full moons..."

"You're not planning on raising this boy to fight in the war, Albus."

"I thought you didn't like werewolves," said Dumbledore. "Don't worry. That is not my intention. I simply think that he has a right to an education, don't you? I can see many ways that this will be a success... but, if I am as magically competent as I believe myself to be... I cannot see many ways in which it can fail. If this works... yes, indeed, I can see it working," he said, more to himself than Aberforth, "and it could be life-changing for a great many people. Or perhaps just Remus Lupin. Either will satisfy me."

"You say that, but you only care about the greater good. None of that is true at all."

"It is certainly true," said Dumbledore quietly, "and I'll thank you to let me be my own person. I am changed. I have learned. And Remus Lupin will learn as well, if I have anything to do with it... except in a very different sense. He is young still, but in six years... six years. Yes. I shall... what is the expression?... put it on the back burner." He smiled. "Would you like a caramel toffee, Aberforth? In thanks?"

"A caramel toffee will not make up for your mistakes."

"No, but a caramel toffee certainly doesn't hurt..."

"I don't want your toffees."

"A couple Galleons?"

"I am not a charity case."

"A hug?"

"Don't touch me."

"You may have my scarf, but it's a bit old and probably too flamboyant for your tastes..."

"Get out of my pub so that I can reopen."

"Very well. Let me know if there's anything you ever need, Aberforth."

"I need you out of my life," Aberforth called, but Dumbledore was already halfway down the cobblestone street, humming Rossini's Barber of Seville overture.

All in all, it had been quite the productive day.

[thewalkingfanfictions]

Softly, Barely a Whisper -- Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (part one)

Softly, Barely a Whisper — Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (pre apocalypse) (part one)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

Description: (Name) moved in with her uncle, the Sheriff of a little town in Northern Georgia, to escape an abusive household. While living with her uncle, she meets Daryl, a redneck with a heart of gold and a life very similar hers. Fluff and angst and awkward shy Daryl Dixon ensue.

⚠Warning⚠: great amounts of bad language, past mentions of abuse, past mentions of rape, there's probably more, this'n's kinda a mess. Don't read if you get triggered easily.

Genre: angsty fluff?? Hurt/comfort?? I've no idea. Is awkward Daryl a genre?

Pairing: teen!Daryl Dixon x teen!fem!abused!reader

A/N: hey, sorry I've been gone for forever, I suck at commitment. I also suck at naming things, hence the title. I wrote another long motherfucker of a "oneshot" and therefore am breaking it into chapters like I did with Impromptu Cuddles, so look out for the other chapters soon enough. Enjoy.

Words without A/N: 3242

<—————————————>

"Sure thing, Daryl. You can use whatever ya'd like, just make sure you put it back afterwards. The doors unlocked and yer more than welcome to go in for a drink or anythin' if ya need it." Bill Coleman, or Sheriff Coleman, as most knew him by, called out as he moved to open the door to his cruiser.

The Sheriff was an interesting character to the youngest Dixon. He had hardened features and a voice like a gravel truck that immediately implied a harsh disposition, his eyes were constantly squinted into a look that resembled judgment, and the vibe he gave off was just generally unpleasant; but, in all reality, Bill Coleman was probably the gentlest man Daryl had ever met. He understood the workings of the Dixon household without ever having to be told, and did what he could to make life any bit easier for the teenager. Whether that be arresting the senior Dixon whenever he found possible, or offering Daryl a place to stay in his home over the weekend. Bill was, all in all, a genuinely kind human being. Something, Daryl found, was rather rare in his life.

But, even though the Sheriff had his trust, and he knew the Sheriff trusted him the same, it still came as a bit of a shock to him to see the officer willingly let him, a Dixon, have open access to his house while no one else was home.

Everyone knew not to trust a Dixon. Nobody in the town was willing to make eye contact with him, let alone trust him to their house and belongings while they were away. Will, his father, had done a fine job of destroying the family name in his drunken escapades, and his brothers addictions did nothing to help. This, combined with the confusion and disbelief that coursed through his system, explained the gawk the boy's eyes held as he stared in awe at Mr. Coleman's retreating figure.

This had to be some kind of trick, right?

"Oh," the Sheriff called. There it was, the part where he'd laugh it off and say "just kidding. Like I'd let a freak like you into my home without supervision."

Once again surprising the young man, his expectation was the farthest thing from what the greying man actually said.

"I fergot ta mention my niece, my sisters kid. She'll be here soon enough, gets off work in a half hour or so. She's been stayin' with me since, ah–" he trailed off a bit, one leg up in the cruiser, the other still planted firmly on the ground as he looked at Daryl over the door's window, looking mildly uncomfortable "–well, she's jus' stayin' with me. She's real sweet, you'll prolly get along with 'er. Jus', eh, just be soft, ya hear? She's a bit skittish, and real shy, too, so don't be too offended if she avoids ya, she don't mean it rude like."

And what on earth could he mean by that? The avoiding that he'd done when describing why she was here, what had happened that he didn't want to talk about? Daryl had a few theories already.

"'Till later, Daryl. Take care, and remember what I told ya, boy." With a wave and a caring (or warning, he could never quite tell with the old man) smile, the grizzled man pulled out of the small driveway and onto the road leading out of the trailer park to go do his civic duty, leaving a still heavily confused, and now slightly concerned, Daryl Dixon standing outside of his garage.

This man, knowing his family's history with bad habits, was not only willing to let the teenager into his home without a watchful eye, but was also perfectly okay knowing he'd be there, alone, with his (skittish and shy) niece?

Maybe the old man is finally losing it, he thought.

Still in shock, the young man turned on his heel, and began the short trek back to the shedd to continue working on the pickup that he had been working on fixing up. Though it was really nothing but a shell sitting on bricks right now, he knew that someday it'd be his pride and joy.

Some uncounted amount of time later, Daryl was finally pulling himself out from under the hood. His throat itched with dryness, and he was covered in sweat from the never-ending harshness of the Georgian sun, but, nonetheless, he couldn't help the little spike of pride that ran through him as he looked down at the beginnings of the new-made guts of his pickup. Allowing himself the luxury of a small smile, he decided he'd finally take the old Sheriff up on his offer, and moved to head into the house to grab something to wet his throat, and maybe even a rag to wipe off his face, if he was feeling risky.

He found, upon entry, that the house was relatively clean. Cleaner than it had been the last time he'd been in there, at least, and only as clean as an old trailer house could really get.

Still, where before there had been newspapers scattered, now there were none, and in place of the cluttered kitchen was a clean countertop and a basket of fresh apples. He didn't dwell on it a whole lot as he moved to the sink to fill up a plastic solo cup, though he did wonder if Bill would mind if he stole an apple. The young Dixon couldn't really remember the last time he'd eaten.

Filling his cup, he was quick to chug it down, the cold a dramatic (but welcome) shock against the harsh dryness of his throat. He let the water run into the sinks basin as he filled the cup up again, again, and then one more time, and only on his fifth return to the water did he realize the difference in sound. A few inches of water was backed up in the bottom of the sink, refusing to go down the drain like it should, and completely changing the sound the water pouring from the faucet made as it headed downwards.

Quickly setting the cup aside and turning off the faucet, he watched the water make its incredibly slow decent into the drain, and decided he needed to pay back Sheriff Coleman's hospitality. It was the least he could do, after all.

Opening the doors that lead to the plumbing beneath the sink, Daryl set himself to work.

~~~~~~~~~~×~~~~~~~~~~

"Good night, (name)!" Mr. Sennet's overly cheery voice called to the young woman as she moved her way through the front doors of the diner.

Calling out a quick goodbye to him as well, she hurriedly climbed into her rig. A shitty little Honda though she was, she still got the young (name) from a to b, and (name) would be forever grateful to her uncle for gifting it to her.

Dusk was just beginning to settle as she took off towards her new residence, and she worried slightly if her uncle would be angry that she was out later than usual. The diner had been busier tonight than normal, and instead of getting off at seven, as per usual, it was now closer to nine.

Taking a calming breath, she reminded herself aloud:

"He's not like they were, he won't be mad at you. He's not like them, he won't be mad."

Though she really did believe it, she still repeated it aloud to herself the entire way back to the house, as if she thought she could will it into existence if she hoped hard enough.

It was silly, she knew, but she didn't really care. After all she'd been through, she thought she deserved a little self reassurance.

The drive to her new home was short lived, though she didn't much mind. She hated to be alone now, it gave her too much time to think, and far too much time to overthink. A regular pastime of hers, it seemed.

It was odd, really. Before, when it was just her and the chromed glass house and the bruising voices, before she was taken away by her uncle, she loved to be alone. She cherished the times of peace she had between the hurt. Now, if she was alone for more than thirty minutes, it was likely she'd be found having a mental breakdown in a bathtub.

But, enough of the depressing stuff.

As the scarred girl pulled into the driveway, she didn't notice the second pair of tracks that accompanied her uncles, as she was far too wrapped up in her head. Something she'd be sure to kick herself for at a later date. She didn't notice the single light that was on in the kitchen, either, nor did she pay mind to the tools that lay neatly around their box as she passed the shedd that functioned as a garage, and she simply put the shell of a pickup truck that sat just outside off as another of her uncles pastimes. Opening and stepping through the front door, she didn't even notice the smudge of mud off the sole of someone's shoe that was left on the carpet.

She did, however, definitely notice the way the hair on the back if her neck stood to attention at the sound of a voice that most definitely wasn't the Sheriffs cursing angrily from the kitchen. Metal clinking to the ground and a tapping on something that echoed like tubing followed behind the exclamation, and (name) felt herself seize up in fear.

"It can't be them," she reminded herself silently, "it isn't them, it can't be."

Swallowing her fear, trying desperately not to let the tears that branded the backs of her eyes build enough to fall, (name) forced herself to move farther into the room, grabbing the aluminum baseball bat that resided behind the door and dropping her bag by a table near the door as she did.

Thinking back to the little bit of self defence that Bill had taught her upon her moving in, she pulled the bat to her side to keep it close enough that no one could easily pull it from her grasp, but could still cause some damage if shoved forwards hard enough.

Sneaking around the corner of the refrigerator that hid the person from view, she took a deep, calming breath before poking her head around to take a peek.

He was young, she could tell, likely not much older than herself. Shaggy, brown-blond hair nearly reached broad shoulders, and even though he was hunched over beneath the kitchen sink, she could still tell he was much larger than her. Muscles flexed under a sleeveless button-down shirt as he twisted a wrench against the plumbing under the basin, grunting lightly as he did.

He didn't seem like he was there to cause trouble, she figured. Who in their right minds broke into a house just to fix their backed up sink? Oh dear, maybe he's not in his right mind? What if they sent him and he's here to kill the girl? What if he was there to bring her back to them somehow? But they were away, they couldn't hurt her, could they? Even from the depths of prison, or the entrapment of the psych ward, the girl didn't really doubt that one of the two could get a word out to have her hurt (killed?) for getting them put away. She was going to die now and she wouldn't even be able to fix the meatloaf that she had planned for tonight's dinner. She felt her body begin to tremble (or perhaps it was already, and she only just then noticed) and her eyes glazed themselves with tears, to her dismay.

Could she swing and knock him unconscious? Could she at least discombobulate the man long enough to escape? Could she really even hurt somebody like that?

Before she could come to a decision, however, the decision came to her.

Away in the living room, a phone rang. The shrill tlrrring! making both bodies jump slightly, and causing the boy bent beneath the kitchen sink to take notice of young (name).

Blue eyes widened as he caught sight of her, baseball bat clutched in hand, and he threw himself backwards and away, slamming his body into the ovens door. Instinctively, his arms moved to guard his face and torso.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell, girl!" The loud exclamation startled the girl, and she jumped again, shoving against the refrigerator hard enough to make it rattle dangerously.

~~~~~~~~~~×~~~~~~~~~~

Fixing the plumbing turned out to be far more difficult than Daryl had originally assumed. The bits holding the stuff to the things was rusted on, making it difficult to loosen the thingy mabob and clear anything clogging the that thing.

Putting all of his focus into wrenching the bits away from the stuff, Daryl completely failed to notice the other presence in the room with him, and when the phone in the other room shocked him out if his thoughts, he found his mind immediately assuming it was his father standing there with a weapon in hand.

As his back hit the oven and his arms moved to guard his head, he caught full sight of the person, and quickly came to realize his mistake. His heart beat harshly against his ribs, and he couldn't help but exclaim his dislike for the situation.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell, girl!"

At his shout, the girl flinched away from him so harshly that he thought the refrigerator was going to come crashing down on top of him, and he immediately felt guilty, for some odd reason.

She looked absolutely terrified. (Eye color) eyes big as saucers, glazed with fear and glossy with tears, shaking hands gripped the metal of the baseball bat so hard her skin turned white, and her entire body was shaking like a leaf. Her eyes never left his form as he slowly stood up from the ground, one hand still held out in front of him, whether to ward off an attack, or to show he meant no harm, neither really knew. The girl was down right terrified of him, and he hadn't so much as said a word to deserve it yet.

This had to be the niece the Sheriff was talking about, he decided. The scared look she was giving him as she slowly backed away from him made him feel downright awful, and he knew he needed to do something to show her he meant no harm. So, remembering her uncles words, Daryl worked to make his voice a bit less gruff than usual, and tried to keep the edge out of his tone.

"Uh-uh, I ain't here ta hurtcha, girlie–" she took another quick step back "–I'm a friend of Bill's. I was jus' comin' in ta get a drink, I ain't here ta hurtcha."

There was far more that could be said, he knew, but words never really were his forté, and he wasn't sure how much he could talk before he made her more uncomfortable. However, the little bit that he had said, mostly naming her uncle, he thought, had made her shoulders un-hunch a bit, though she kept her distrusting posture. Smart girl.

Slowly lowering the bat until it pointed at his chest she grabbed it with both hands and hesitantly backed out of the kitchen, beckoning him to follow her. Keeping him safely at the end of the bat, and moved to pick up the still-ringing phone and gingerly press it to her ear, her eyes never leaving him, and the bat never wavering (though it did shiver along with her tremors.)

Her eyes relaxed a bit more at the voice on the other end of the line, and though Daryl couldn't much hear the words that were being said—aside from the mumbled tone—he could still tell it was the sheriffs deep voice that spoke.

"Yeah? Uh-hm, good, I uh, I guess... I did. Of course," as she spoke to the formless voice, Daryl couldn't help the small spike of fear that ran up his spine. What if the Sheriff didn't want him there now that he'd scared the girl? He had warned him, he thought. What if Bill made him go back to his shit-hole house and wouldn't let him come back again? This place was one of the few he had to escape that hell, he didn't want to lose that. What if the officer freaked and called Daryl's dad to come pick him up? He'd have hell to pay if he let that happen. He was sure he'd end up with a few more scars at least if his dad were to find out that someone knew of what went on behind closed doors. The Sheriff, no less. What if he–

His spiraling thoughts were disrupted when he caught the sound of his name coming from the other end of the phone line and immediately tuned back in.

"Uhm, uh, yeah, I–I guess. I mean, yeah, yes, he's still here... Oh, no, he's, uh, he's been nice enough," was she even still talking about the red-necked youth? "Yes, of course it's okay, uncle Bill. Sure-sure thing, yeah, that's okay with me. I was thinking about making meatloaf tonight, anyway, that usually makes enough for more than just you an' me."

Wait, what?

The girl had lowered the weapon, though she still kept a tight grip in it, and gave him a shy, almost apologetic smile, before finally letting her eyes dart away. Daryl stayed frozen in his spot. What was even happening?

"–oh," she suddenly looked dejected at whatever had been said on the other side. Scared, almost. "Yeah, no, no, that's-that's okay, uncle Bill, sure thing. It's okay, promise," she suddenly donned a small smile, and though he knew imediately that it was fake, he still found himself startlingly light-of-breath at the sight.

"Yeah, of course, see you tomorrow, uncle, stay safe." Tomorrow? What? Why was all this so confusing to the youngest Dixon? Why was the disappearance of her smile making him feel so hollow?

The sudden change in the expression that the smaller figure wore was dramatically startling to Daryl. Going from sad and scared and sorry and a bit regretful to blushing and wincing and all together uncomfortable in the blink of an eye, the girl shriekingly exclaimed:

"Uncle Bill! No! Ew, gross! Don–Don't say things like that, ya nasty!" Daryl couldn't help but find her blush and stutter quite endearing.

Even from the few paces away that he was, he could still hear the loud laugh that erupted from the other side of the phone.

"Alrigh–alright, uncle Bill," the girls face was still flushed intensely, "I'm hanging up on you now... Yeah, yes, okay—thanks for that." She winced again at whatever he'd said, and she somehow flushed even harder. In a softer voice, now, "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Stay safe." Her last words were barely a whisper.

Slowly pulling the phone away from her ear, the girl placed it gently on the receiver before turning to glance at Daryl, though he took note that she never once fully looked at him again.

"I'm, uhm, I'm sorry," she whispered, grimacing softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ו×~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[dccomicsbookshelf]

The Love-Life Habits of Bats

This is probably going to be the only time I talk about this, since this isn’t really a topic I a) care that much about or b) feel all that comfortable talking about.

As a result of the above, these are less “headcanons” and more “my interpretation of canon” (and as such are not as varied or colorful as a lot of other people’s hcs on the topic) and a lot of my opinions are sourced from me seeing interpretations in fandom and canon that feel wrong to me for whatever reason. So here we are, something I never thought I’d actually post about but just so that y’all can know where I’m coming from. (Or just enjoy free-standing) 

BatFam sexual orientations and miscellaneous notes concerning relationships and sexualities

(+ one mini-rant on behalf of Dick Grayson.)

Bruce: Is aggressively heterosexual for the most part. Not in the hur, hur, no homo, dude! sense, he just...really likes women. It’s one of the aspects of Brucie that is true for Bruce as well. Yes, a lot of his one-night stands are ostensibly about keeping his cover as a playboy billionaire as part of the Quest for Justice, but he is genuinely very sexual. He tones it down a little as he gets older (and acquires more children) He actually desperately wants a serious and stable relationship (and is also terrified of the prospect) which results in a frustrating combination of overbearing clinginess and emotional pushing-awayness. It’s part of why Talia broke off their engagement. He was smothering her. Is also mildly bicurious and has probably experimented a few times.

Selina: Pan with high standards (and Bruce). Has not, despite popular rumor and speculation, been part of a threesome with Harley and Ivy. She doesn’t have that kind of a relationship with them. (Doesn’t mean they don’t all three have fun feeding those rumors on occasion.)

Kate: Look, this has been very firmly established in canon so I don’t think I need to say much. She’s a lesbian, Harold.

Barbara: Bi and ever so slightly aromatic. She’s not romance-repulsed but she doesn’t really initiate unless it’s a situation that would be super important to her partner. Her workaholicness probably has something to do with it tbh.

Dick: this one is gonna be super long because I have some Opinions to say. Imma start with what he isn’t. He’s not a man-whore. Not an exhibitionist. Not a flirt.

The only times he’s slept with someone outside a committed relationship (i.e. Kori and Babs) were either...

That weird one night stand with Helena that was WAY out of character for both of them.

Mirage and Tarantula. If I have to explain why these don’t count then humanity needs to burn already.

He’s actually pretty shy about PDA. He grew up with a firm divide between the “public” and the “personal”, first with the circus then with Bruce. When you have an audience, you perform. When you are with your family and friends, you take the masks off. With his family in particular there was the idea of “our love for each other is not for someone else’s entertainment. It belongs to us.” He loves holding hands and hugging in public, but more than that and he starts getting uncomfortable.

He gets called a flirt a lot but he rarely is actually flirting. People just assume he’s flirting when he’s really just being friendly and/or polite and barely tolerating them. 

All of this is a really long way to say that Dick Grayson is so demi it might as well be his middle name. (He has a very strong preference towards women. And he has a type.) But because he’s pretty and friendly, people make assumptions because people are egocentric, entitled assholes.

Cass: Is pansexual and aromantic in the sense that she actually finds romance adorable until it involves her, then she finds it vaguely awkward. (She is also toppy as heck.) She has to trust someone before she’ll get intimate with them though. Generally speaking she doesn’t go looking for relationships. She prefers spending time with her family and friends. (She mostly has FWB kinds of relationships anyway, since she and Superboy stopped dating. The closest to a “relationship-relationship” since then was her almost-thing with Steph.)

Jason: Ace and either bi or pan-romantic. (He doesn’t want to sleep with you but he will romance the heck out of you! His methods of romancing vary depending on his Pit-Madness status.)

Steph: Bi. After her pregnancy she’s been a lot more choosy about her partners. Part of it is “been there done that” and part of it is that she’s a little self-conscious about her stretch marks and steadily growing collection of scars. 

Tim: Is straight and awkward at romancing unless he’s deep in a persona, then it varies. He tends to be, like B, overbearing and kind of classist/elitist which has caused him some difficulties (understandably) but he’s getting better. As he gets into his late teens his sexual/romantic life has picked up quite a bit.

I must correct myself. He is straight with one potential exception.

Look, I don’t even ship TimKon myself but that subtext (in the actual comics) is one comma splice away from being text.

Damian: I haven’t thought much about him tbh because he’s ten. All I really know is that if there is a word for “sexually attracted by competence” he’s that. Definitely sapiosexual. Refuses to enter a relationship with someone he cannot trust and once he does enter a relationship he throws his whole heart and soul into it. His first breakup was devastating. 

Duke: Is low-key bisexual. At one point decided he will only date outside the masked and caped crowd as he has the basic requirement of “sanity” for a partner. This makes it complicated because relationships with civilians come with their own host of problems.

Alfred: Was a theater actor in-between being special forces and a Bat-Butler.

[inkofamethyst]

April 25, 2019

Guys I’m freaking out and it’s all my fault.

So, it’s painfully obvious to anyone who knows me that I’m almost always an awful conversationalist.  Especially online?  Conventions online are different than they are in real life and sometimes I understand those differences and other times I overthink them.  Like the ettiquite for the time it takes to text someone back, for example.  Anyway I’m just bad, okay.

And now that I’m on Facebook more than I’ve ever used any other social media in my life (and it’s probably the only thing I’ll be using for the next week or so due to the release of Endgame (I will have to physically restrain myself, but I am not going to use Pinterest.  Instagram might be okay but it’s on thin ice.)), I’m commenting on a lot of people’s posts and jazz (especially if they like theatre because, well, that reasoning should be obvious, shouldn’t it (and if they like theatre and they’re an attractive guy? whew chile)) just to be friendly, you know?  Like, “hey, I’m a biochem major too!” or “hey, I’m into theatre too!  what’s your favorite show?” so that I can engage with a few people from the school before I actually get there, you know?  

And that’s been all fine and dandy, but like, combine my conversational awkwardness with my inability to act right around boys and it’s a recipe for disaster.

Maybe that wording is a bit strong... it’s not really a disaster.  I’m just afraid that I’m going to do something dumb.

Anyway I commented on the post of this one guy right (he said he was into theatre and binge-watching and seemed kind of funny so why not), and he responded back and then sent me a message through Facebook and I responded (a bit late unfortunately... yesterday was pretty hectic) and then he responded and then I responded and then I think he sent me a friend request at some point which is fine or whatever and then he asks for my snapchat.  Now, I don’t really care to use my snapchat.  I just got it, so I don’t know what any of the normal conventions are, and I don’t want to be completely tied to my phone and the idea of “streaks” because that sounds horrible (apologies to the two people with whom I accidentally started streaks... look, I only got the app in the first place so that I could join any snap groups so that I wouldn’t miss out on things).  Anyway, I tell him that I don’t really use it, but I give him my instagram instead and then he requests to follow me and I see a pride flag in his bio so he could even be gay idk that’s not my business.

I’ll clarify that this isn’t a crush or anything at all (I literally never even got that ~feeling~), but just that I’m bad at talking to people in general, ugh.  

We’ll see how it goes.  I’ll see it through.  He’s a bio major (neuro and physiology) so we could even have classes together, but he’s in a different living-learning program than me and also the campus is huge (there’s like, 5,000 freshmen each year (that doesn’t even count Spring Admits and transfers) so there’s a very real possibility that this will be the last time we actually interact.  We definitely won’t see each other at orientation (different llp’s), so we’ll see.  I just don’t want him to think I’m a weirdo who can’t talk to people or that I’m stuck up when I’m really only a little of both of those things with a dominant trait of being shy.

Now that my panicked word jumble is done,

I ended up not failing my math practice AP exam.  Actually, I got a pretty solid 4.  And I just checked my college’s website and a 4 would actually get me out of the two math classes that are required for my major.  There’s another math course that’s recommended but not required, but I think that I might skip out on that (depending on how my advisors think, of course) just so that I can fit more of my pharmacy requirements in over the course of four years.  I’m not as big of a math person as I’d like to be, and I recognize that, so I’ll try and make this whole thing as painless as possible for myself.

Another thing I’m mildly stressed about is the fact that I’m posting my Facebook bio into the groups tomorrow.  I’m going to get my pictures set up tonight so that I know I’ll have at least five.  Hopefully I’ll be able to get seven or more, but five has to be the absolute minimum.

Today I’m thankful that I’m going to Prom with a bunch of my good friends.  I’ll be single as all get out but I’ll look nice in my dress (which will not get dirty) and my hair and makeup (hopefully).  And... yeah.  Then there’s going to be the After Prom thing which should be more fun than the Prom itself (and I won’t have to worry nearly as much about a wardrobe malfunction... how’s that for $85 spent) with all the food and fun and prizes.  Yeah, this weekend is gonna be a good one.