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#in which shane was supposed to be not here
s0fter-sin · 5 months
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wow so watcher just singlehandedly killed their channel
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intoxicated-chan · 8 months
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𝐏𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐈𝐧-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝
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Summary ➳ With a suspended license, you took the risk of picking up your brothers from a bar and when caught, Officer Walsh gives you a choice.
(A/n) ➳ I just realized that I’m still on season 3… I might end up rewatching season 1 and 2… Yeah, I’m rewatching it.
Word Count ➳ 1.4k
Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, NO OUTBREAK, DARK SHANE, DARK CONTENT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sexual content, , heavy profanity, mentions of drugs, alcohol use, oral (M), abuse of power, face-fucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling…
DARK CONTENT UNDER THE CUT. MDNI 18+
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“Don’t be blamin’ me you damn dipshits!” You shouted over the phone as you struggled to boot your boots on. “How the hell did he even get kicked out?” You threw on your jacket.
“The hell was I supposed to know he was gonna get drunk?”
“You’re with him!”
“Jus’ get yer damn ass over ‘ere!”
“My license is suspended! Where’s your car?!
“The piece of shit broke down! It’s late, the cops ain’t gonna do anythin’.”
“Easy for you to fuckin’ say.” You groaned, grabbing Merle’s truck keys and walking out of the door. You angrily hung up on him, cutting off his cursing at Merle and loudly crashing.
You shoved the worn out key into the ignition, and felt that familiar click. You turned the key and waited for the engine to turn on. There’s a low rumble but then a silence.
You grumbled and turned the key again, it grumbled a little louder this time but nothing. “For fuck’s sake!” You shouted and tried it again, finally it turned on.
You changed gears and backed out of the driveway, and hurriedly drove to the only bar closest to where you all lived.
You again changed gears and turned on the radio as an attempt to calm down, but you knew it wasn’t helping when you were still cursing about Merle. You gripped the worn out steering wheel, trying to tune out the strange rumbling from the engine.
Urgency ran through your veins, and you didn’t pay attention to how fast you were going. It was nearly midnight, barely anyone was on the road.
From the familiar signs, you were at the outskirts of the town, just a couple of minutes away.
“Dammit!” You smacked the steering wheel as the red and blue lights appeared right behind you. A wave of uneasiness overcomes your anger, the last thing you wanted to was be arrested for evading the police.
The flashing lights illuminated the dark road as you pulled over, bringing the truck to a park. You can see from the mirror the officer leaving his car and speak to his radio.
You rolled down your window as he approached the truck, leaning towards the window. “Evenin’, ma’am. What brings you out here so late?”
You contained your frustration and put on a smile. “Just tryin’ to pick up my brothers from a bar.”
You felt like he stared longer than he should, you could see him scanning the inside of the truck, taking note of various Merle’s stuff scattered across the back seat.
“License and registration.” He asked.You reached over and opened the glove box and handed him your registration. He took the paper and lifted an eyebrow. “License?”
“Look officer…?” You looked at his badge but he beat you to it.
“Walsh.”
“Walsh, I don’t have it.”
You could see the disappointment in his eyes, he pulled out his pen and notepad. “Name and birthdate?”
“(Y/n) Dixon-”
“Dixon? Which would make you related to Merle Dixon?”
You reluctantly nodded. “Yes, he’s my brother. Look, I ain’t got time to talk. Can’t I just-”
“I’m assumin’ this ain’t your truck.” Before you could say anything else, he began to circle the truck with a lit flashlight in hand.
“Fuck me.” You mumbled, knowing Merle, he probably had some illegal substances hiding in wherever. “Fuck you Merle.” You cannot have a drug charge on your record, you could not have that.
“Can you step out of the vehicle for me?” He said out loud, coming back to the door.
“Officer-”
“Don’t make this difficult, Dixon.” He took a couple steps back, a hand on his hip as he waited for you. You unbuckled your seatbelt, turned off the truck and stepped out of it. “You have anythin’ you hidin’?” He questioned you.
“Nope.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Shane smirked, turning off his flashlight. “You know what happens when you drive without a license?”
“Officer Walsh, my brothers need me to pick them up. Just write me a ticket and let me be on my way.”
“Drivin’ late at night, without a license? You know how dangerous it is?” He said. “Givin’ you a ticket ain’t gonna be enough.”
“Officer-”
“I’ll give you two choices.” Shane maneuvered around you, shutting the truck door, blocking the door. “I can arrest you and get you booked which could take…” He counted using his fingers. “A hour to a couple hours-”
“Then arrest me-”
“Minus waitin’ for your case.” Shane lowered his hands, grinning. “Or…” His hands reach for his belt, ready to unbuckle it. “You can get on your knees.”
“The hell I am-!”
Shane loudly hushed you. “You want me to turn a blind eye?”
You stumbled over your words, a mix of excuses and curses. But the shit eating grin was still on his face and when you took a glance at his crotch, he was already hard.
“You’re disgustin’.”
Shane shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Be a good girl, Dixon. Don’t be keepin’ your brothers waitin’.” He pulled himself out of his pants, and pumped himself slowly. “Get on your knees.”
“Fuck me.” You muttered under your breath, doing as he said.
“Don’t tempt me.”
You rolled your eyes and took him into your hands, jerking him off with a disgusted look on your face. You refused to look at him or his cock, keeping your gaze on the ground.
From base to head, you stroked, twisting your hand around it.
You wished to yourself that he would quickly cum and get on with your night. You tried to focus on something else and hoped that if anyone did pass by they wouldn’t see.
Shane grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it back roughly, a gasp lifted your lips. He shoved his thumb into your mouth as the rest of his fingers held your face.
He breathed heavily and plunged himself into your mouth. He forced you down to the base, his pubic hair itching your nose, making it scrunch. His hips began to buck and your jaw slacked.
Your hand clutched his pants, your nails digging into them. Your eyes shut tightly as each time he touched the back of your throat, you gagged.
Your saliva dripped down your chin, and when he tugged at your hair, you whimpered. The pain was unbearable as he took joy in seeing you in pain, your hot tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.
“You’ve done this before?” Shane sneered at you, throwing his head back and moaning quite loudly. It was like he didn’t care if he got caught. “You sure have a fuckin’ talent!”
Shane didn’t care for any discomfort you were feeling, all the stress that Merle and Daryl caused in the past was being taken out on you.
He pulled back until it’s just the head of his cock in your mouth then thrusted back in. Again and again, his hand tight in your hair, thrusting as hard and deep as he could and his cock glistening with saliva.
“Look at me.” He panted. “C’mom, look at me.”
Your eyes fluttered open, your eyes snapped to his, watery and wide, full of anger.
He cursed at you, biting down on his lip as the orgasm builded in him. He then held your head still as he was so far deep that your body jerked.
Shane gave out a loud grunt as he came inside and down your throat. You started to choke, you punched his thigh a couple of times before he threw you off him.
You hit the ground, coughing. You hissed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. The salty and bitter taste in your mouth made you retch.
He let out a sigh of relief, tucking himself back into his pants. “Drive safely ma’am.” He laughed once again as he walked to his car. Once you were sure he drove off, you picked yourself up from the ground and quickly drove to the bar.
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“Took yer sweet ass time!” Daryl shoved an unconscious Merle into the backseat before getting into the passenger side. “The hell happened?”
“Cops.” You packed out of the parking spot and drove, trying to focus on the road.
“Anythin’ happen? Ya alright?”
“Yeah, let me off with a warnin’.”
“Seriously-?”
“I’m tired Daryl. Just let me get this asshole home.” You couldn’t focus, not without the bitter taste in your mouth, drowning out Daryl’s attempts to wake his brother for his phone.
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© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months
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is that tax fraud?
for @corrodedcoffinfest warm-up round prompt ‘taxes’
rated t | 671 words | cw: language | tags: they’re just so stupid, and I love them, look Steve is here!
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
“What the hell do you mean you’ve never filed taxes?” Jeff asked Gareth as they sat around trying to write a song.
Keyword: trying.
Now it looked like they were gonna be figuring out how to keep Gareth out of fucking prison for tax fraud.
“I thought our band accountant handled it!” Gareth exclaimed.
“We don’t have a band accountant! The label just handles our money!” Jeff exclaimed back.
“Okay, let’s calm down.” Eddie, the voice of reason at this moment, held his hands up towards them. “Technically, Gareth only turned 18 two years ago. That’s only two years of back taxes. And if he’s honest, it’ll be fine! He probably didn’t even make enough the first year for them to care.”
“Well, I did get an inheritance from my grandpa who died,” Gareth said unhelpfully. “Does that count as income?”
Everyone stared at him in shock.
“This is a joke,” Freak said from his spot on the couch. “Has to be.”
“Oh my god, our drummer is actively committing tax fraud,” Jeff put his head in his hands.
“Guys, it’s fine! I’ll just file it all this year,” Gareth assured them.
“We should call someone. Right? Someone should be told about this,” Eddie started pacing the floor, wearing a trail into the shag carpet.
Who even put shag carpet in here? Shag was terrible.
The door swung open and Steve walked in holding three large pizzas and a grocery bag full of sodas.
“They didn’t have any Mountain Dew, but that’s probably for the best. You guys have a conference call in an hour so eat up,” he said as he started setting everything on the coffee table. He looked around when he realized it was way too quiet. “Everything okay?”
“Stevie. I fear our drummer may be going to prison.”
Steve paled. “What? Why?”
“He forgot to tell the government he has money. For two years.”
“He what?” Steve looked at Gareth to explain.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to file my own taxes! I thought we had a guy!”
Steve looked between all of them. He looked at Gareth.
“You do have a guy. The label provides a guy. I think his name is Sam? Maybe Shane.” Steve shook his head. “Either way. You have a tax guy. He filed for all of you last year.”
You could hear a pin drop in the silence.
“What do you mean? We all filed for ourselves last year. Except Gareth, apparently,” Jeff was frowning at the floor.
“Uh, well, you may have given double the money, then,” Steve laughed, though this wasn’t exactly funny.
“So let me get this straight: the label provided a guy to do our taxes without telling us. We all file our own taxes after this guy already did. No one caught it. Gareth’s the only one who hasn’t double paid into the fucking government?” Eddie asked, face red with shame or anger, it was hard to say which.
“Yeah, appears so.”
“Fuck you guys. Had me worried I was going to prison and I’m the only one who’s done shit right!” Gareth laughed. He reached for a slice of pizza and sat back in his chair, smug smile on his face. “Feels good to have my taxes paid.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Freak rolled his eyes. “So how do we get money back if we double filed?”
“Not sure we can,” Jeff sighed. “Probably isn’t worth figuring it out anyway. It’s not like we were rolling in for last year’s taxes.”
“But this year…” Eddie started.
They all looked at each other and nodded.
Yeah. This year would be different. They’d skyrocketed after the release of their first album and their first tour. Money was…pretty fucking great.
“So…pizza?” Steve asked.
They all nodded and started grabbing for their food.
“If you guys want, I’m sure Nancy can try to find a way to get money back. She’s good at that stuff,” Steve suggested.
“Nah, she’d call us idiots.”
“Well, if the shoe fits.”
“Hey!”
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ghostboneswrites2 · 7 months
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A Mess || Reader Walsh X Daryl || Part 1
New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here, beginning with this series since it was the most popular!
Summary: You grow tired of sneaking suspicions of Lori and your husband sneaking off together. When you finally catch them in the act, a grumpy redneck happens to be the one to help you through it in his own, unconventional way.
18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, nongraphic depictions of sex, TWD typical violence
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        You were so sick of him. The way he stood with his hands on his hip, squinting in the Georgia sun as he watched over the camp -- or, more specifically -- watched over Lori. 
        You respected it at first, when Rick didn't wake up and he told you, "We gotta go get Lori and Carol, (Y/N). We just got to. I gotta do right by him."
        You didn't say anything when you were all stopped on the highway, watching the planes drop bombs on the city that was supposed to welcome you into safe refugee centers, and his first instinct was to hold Lori instead of you. You thought she had to be terrified, to lose her man and have to keep their son safe in such trying, unpredictable times. She probably needed that hug more than you, his own wife.
        You were young when you married Shane. A drunken night led to one thing, one thing led to a baby, a baby led to another thing; a ring. But, you had a miscarriage after the wedding, and as we all know that doesn't nullify a marriage. Regardless, it wasn't a bad marriage. The relationship was mostly solid. You had suspicions, like when he'd come home from a night out with the other guys on the force with what you could have sworn were faded lipstick stains that he couldn't wipe off well enough, or smelling faintly of perfume and cigarettes. Still, he took good care of you, and you had a fair bit of freedom. He financed your art supplies, bought you records, helped you get back into school.
        Your parents never had a good marriage so in comparison, you were doing well for yourself. Better than your mom, who lived on wine and Xanax, or your dad, who worked his fingers to the bone in that office, hunched over a computer, addicted to porn and cigars.
        You often wondered if they had survived the initial outbreak, or if they were stumbling around King County somewhere with no heartbeat.
        You shook the thought away, eyeing Shane from atop the RV where you were supposed to be watching for walkers. His skin was shiny with sweat. You wondered how long it'd be before he disappeared into the wood again. Funny how Lori always seemed to disappear at the same time, no doubt leaving Dale or Carol to keep an eye on Carl. Funny how since you'd all set up camp there by the quarry, Lori hadn't been able to make eye contact with you. Funny how he had been short with you, yet somehow managed to remain controlling  as ever. You weren't allowed out of his sight unless he was already out of yours. You couldn't talk to men like Ed or Merle and his brother. You couldn't touch the guns, not until he showed you how to use one properly. You couldn't go wash up in the quarry unless he was there to escort you at night, which he conveniently never was. You couldn't--
        "You alright up here?" Dale asked.
        "Oh. Yeah." You shook your head clean of the whirlwind of suspicion.
        "Don't seem too focused." He observed.
        "Yeah, you're right. Sorry." You said, holding the binoculars to your eyes and turning your attention to the trees.
        "Why don't you go on and take a break. I'll keep an eye out for now." He offered.
        "Actually, you know what? That would be really great. Thanks Dale." You smiled and passed his binoculars to him. You wanted to protest. Watch duty was your favorite, and just about the only thing you could do to make yourself useful aside from washing other people's dirty underwear.
        You climbed down from the roof, expecting to walk over to your husband, but he wasn't where he stood just moments prior.
        You turned to Amy, who was sitting on the steps of the RV, fanning herself. It was a particularly hot day.
        "Hey. Did you see where Shane went? I just saw him over there." You asked, her pointing to where he once stood.
        "I think he went to check the perimeter." She said, holding her hand over her eyes to look up at you without being blinded. It was probably just about noon now with the sun high in the sky.
        "Right." You nodded. You scanned the campers around you. "What about Lori?"
        She shook her head.
        "No, haven't seen her in a while. Carl's over there with Carol. She might know."
        You sighed, thanking Amy as you made your way to Carol.
        "Hey. Seen Lori?"
        "Yeah. She asked me to watch Carl for a bit. Not sure where she went, though."
        You felt a heat in your chest. Exactly as you suspected.
        You jogged back to Amy. "Hey, which way did Shane go?"
        She pointed over to the tree line on your left.
        "Thanks, again." You smiled in a thin line as you marched to the woods. You were determined to put an end to this shit, one way or another.
        You knew they couldn't have gone far. You had just seen him not five minutes ago. You were sure you could catch up. If the Dixons were around, you'd be half tempted to approach one and ask them to track for you. Probably the younger one. That Merle would probably ask you what you were willing to give in return, and you had a feeling he wouldn't be looking for payment in the material sense. You heard quiet rustling and heavy breaths. You ducked down and made slow, quiet steps, glancing down at the ground periodically to avoid any snapping twigs or overly crunchy leaves. You came to some thicker bushes and brush, crooning you neck to peer over the leaves and thorns. 
        Your stomach dropped. There it was. His sweat stained white tee, panting over her navy blue tank top that fit rather loosely with all the weight loss. Her jeans and underwear in a little pile off to the side, his gun set right on top. You clenched your jaw. You wanted to storm over and yell obscenities, to kick them both into the dirt. You were stuck, though. You couldn't move. You were so angry that you were cemented in place. Most of all, you were hurt. You were younger than Shane, and younger than Rick and Lori, but somehow, some way you thought Lori was a friend to you. You watched Carl when she and Rick took date nights from time to time, you two grabbed coffee together, went back to school shopping for Carl just to get you out of the house.
        It would have been one thing had she not known you, had she been a complete stranger, but she was supposed to be a friend, and Shane, he was your husband. Tears stung at your eyes as your pulse became noticeable under your skin.
        That's when you saw something else, a human shape walking up behind them. Could it be? A walker coming to exact your revenge for you? No, you could never be so lucky. It was the Dixon, the young one. His boots were heavy against the forest floor, drawing the attention of Shane and Lori. They both scrambled, Shane standing and buttoning his pants back up as Lori sat and pulled her jeans over her lap to cover herself. 
        "Hey, man -- I -- We can explain --" Shane stuttered, Lori looking mortified.
        "Ain't me ya gotta explain to." Daryl shrugged, glancing over Shane's shoulder at you as you slowly stood to your feet from behind the bushes.
        "Look, man. You say anything --" Shane hissed, no doubt gearing up for some halfhearted threat, but Daryl cut him off again.
        "Won't have to." He told Shane, throwing another look at you, this time prolonging eye contact.
        Shane and Lori followed his gaze and landed on you.
        "(Y/N)" Lori breathed.
        You tore your eyes from the huntsman, shooting visual daggers at your unfaithful husband and his backstabbing mistress.
        Shane took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. You said nothing. There was nothing to say. You just looked at Daryl one more time before you turned around.
        "(Y/N), come on!" Shane called after you. "Let's talk about this."
        You didn't want to. You just stomped your way back to camp, ignoring the curious eyes as you pulled all your things from your shared tent with Shane. You really only had your backpack and a blanket. The two of you shared the sleeping bag and a single pillow, but you didn't want that. It would smell of Shane, and at that moment the thought of him made you nauseous. You took your bag and your blanket, and made your way down to the quarry. Surely that would be the most peaceful place to sleep, by the water, under the stars, away from everyone else. 
        "(Y/N.)" Shane said from behind you after he likely followed you back. "What the hell are you doin'?" He asked, referring to your backpack and blanket in arms.
        "Fuck you." You grumbled.
        "C'mon, what are you doin'?" He asked again. You spun on your heel, seething.
        "No, Shane. What the hell are you doing?!" You shouted, drawing eyes from all around. You didn't care. In fact, you saw it as an opportunity. "Sneaking off?! Getting your dick wet?!"
         "Don't do this here." He said quietly, glancing over his shoulder to where Carol sat with Carl and Sophia. They were all staring in shock, the whole camp. He reached his hands out to grab your shoulders but you stepped back, chest heaving with rage.
        "Oh, why? So your girlfriend's kid doesn't know she's getting down and dirty with you in the leaves out there?" You spat back, only loud enough for him to hear. "You haven't touched me in weeks. Not since the night we left home, but you can't keep it in your pants around your dead best friend's wife?"
        You shoved his chest with both hands, dropping the blanket to the ground in the process. His eyes grew dark, that pleading expression turning cold.
        "I don't give a fuck how sorry you are or aren't. I don't give a good god damn how guilty she feels. I hate you, and I hate her." You added, just to drive the knife in deeper. If they could stab you in the back, you'd stab them in the chest. 
        "Don't be stupid." He growled.
        "Stupid is having unprotected sex in the middle of the woods when your wife is sitting on top of an RV with binoculars. Stupid is fucking your best friend's wife. Stupid is--"
        He grabbed your arm with force, dragging you far away from the others. He lened in close to your face, eyes wide with fury.
        "You need to stop." He warned.
        "I am stopping. I'm stopping all of it. Congratulations, Shane. You don't have to hide your affair anymore. Because you no longer have a wife to cheat on. Oh, and by the way, you suck at hiding it. You both do. The whole fucking camp can see you two disappearing at the same time, every single day. We all see how you look at her, how you play house with her and Carl like your wife isn't sitting ten feet away. Is that what it is? You like making me look like a fool?"
        "I'm only gonna tell you once." He hissed, scowling down at you like you were the one who betrayed him. "Keep your mouth shut."
        "No problem." You sneered. "I'll keep my mouth shut, and you'll keep your distance."
----
        It was dark out. Despite the blazing heat in the daytime, the nights could get pretty chilly, especially down by the water. You didn't mind. You set against the cliff, back rested against your bag, blanket wrapped over you nice and snug. You enjoyed all the stars above. They were hard to see back home, but now, without all the light pollution, they were beautiful.
        "Shouldn't be out here alone." A husky voice rasped. You looked down past your feet to see the shadow of an archer, the very one who happened to catch Shane and Lori when you did.
        "Nah. If any of those freaks stumble through here, they'll be drawn to the fire and the lanterns. I'm safer than ever over here in the dark."
        "Mm." He hummed. "Y'alright? After--"
        "After I caught my husband fucking another woman? Yeah. All things considered, I'm better than ever." You scoffed.
        "Bein' mad don't mean ya gotta be stupid. Can't stay out here." He insisted.
        "Well, my tent is Shane's tent, and the RV is full." You sighed.
        "Jus' take mine." He offered.
        "Yours." You repeated. "And you're gonna sleep where?"
        "Outside. Prefer it that way anyway." He shrugged.
        "Yeah, no. I'm not kicking you out of your own tent."
        "Ain't kickin' me out if I offer." 
        "Well, thanks, but I'll be declining that offer."
        "Suit yourself." He said as he walked back to camp. Daryl wasn't the type to go out of his way for someone else. In fact, it was rather annoying that you couldn't accept his kindness when he felt obliged to offer it. He saw how you looked when you caught them, the sickening blend of grief and rage. You hadn't done anything to deserve that, at least to his knowledge, yet you were the one with nowhere to sleep. It didn't sit right with him.
        He remembered something, though. A bottle of whiskey he had stashed away in his tent. If he couldn't convince you to sleep somewhere warmer and safer than on the bed of red clay by the water, maybe you'd accept something to take your mind off it all.
        He ducked into his tent and grabbed his bottle, paying no mind to his fellow survivors all huddled around the fire making small talk. Lori and Shane sat near each other, Carl in between them talking to Shane about his favorite heroes, Shane telling him stories about his dad.
        Shane's eye caught Daryl as he made his way down the quarry with a bottle of liquor, no doubt on his way to you. He felt a heat in his chest, the same kind you felt when you found him rolling in the dirt with Lori. She noticed his sudden tension and followed his gaze. She looked back to Shane with worry, attempting to calm him with her eyes.
        Daryl found you laying on your side, backpack under your cheek like a pillow.
        "Ya sleep?" He asked.
        "No." You said, monotone and irritable.
        "Ya like whiskey?"
        You sat up. Of course you liked whiskey, this is the south.
        "You have some?" You inquired. He held the bottle out to you and you took it, twisting off the cap and taking a large swig. "Thanks."
        "Ain't a gift." He clarified. "But ya look like you could use a drink."
        He sat down a foot away from you, facing the water. You passed the bottle back to him.
        "Well, thanks for sharing."
        "Mhm."
        "What would you do?" You asked him.
        "Huh?"
        "I mean if you had a wife out here and you caught her fucking someone else."
        "Kick her outta my tent." He said.
        "And if it was her tent?"
        "Too bad. Shouldn't've been sleepin' around." He shrugged, swigging the bottle and passing it to you.
        "Uhuh." You nodded, sipping. "What else?"
        "You askin' me for advice or somethin'?" 
        "Something like that." You guessed.
        "Well I'd probably kick his ass for fuckin' my wife knowin' I was right there."
        "Mm. I'd love to but I can't exactly whoop someone who still has to look out for a kid."
        "Guess ya just gotta ignore 'em." He suggested, taking the bottle as you handed it over.
        "How? I live with them."
        "Want me to kill 'em?" He joked. You chuckled.
        "Kinda." You admitted.
        "Mm. Too easy. I'd tie 'em up outside the city and leave 'em to the walkers." 
        "Oh, you've put thought into this?" You asked. He tipped the bottle bac and took a gulp.
        "Nah. If I did I'd have somethin' more creative."
        "The hell's this?" Shane asked, suddenly looming over the two of you.
        Daryl stood up. "Just havin' a drink." He said, eyeing Shane.
        "With my wife?" Shane stepped forward, so Daryl did too.
        "Looks single to me." Daryl shrugged. He didn't come over with the intentions of making a move on you. Really he hadn't noticed you around at all. He, however, also wasn't one to back down from a fight, and he already had a distaste for the ex-fed, self proclaimed leader.
        "What?" Shane asked through gritted teeth, swaying as he grew more antsy to take a swing. 
        "You're a real piece of work, you know that Shane?" You sighed, standing up. You weren't phased by his sudden intrusion, you knew him too well to be surprised.
        "Yeah, why don't ya go back to sleepin' with the widow?" Daryl added. That was enough for Shane. He threw the first punch, but Daryl recovered quickly, getting a good knock to the ribs in before you inserted yourself between them, one hand to each man's chest.
        "Can we chill with the dick-measuring contest? He brought me a drink because he felt bad for me. Nothing else, because unlike you," you said to Shane, "some men are capable of keeping their willies tucked away."
        "Yeah, right, like he wasn't just waitin' for you to get drunk and start feelin' vengeful." Shane spat.
        "I don't fuck drunk girls, asshole." Daryl spoke up. "That's for cops and losers."
        "Man, you think you can take me? You want a piece of this?" Shane started to raise his voice now.
        "Yeah, c'mon then, prick." Daryl said, throwing his arms up. The two men stepped in circles around you as you tried to keep a barrier between them.
        "Yeah, come on then, pussy!" Shane shouted.
        "Pussy? Nah, man. You're the coward, slidin' your dick in some vulnerable window when ya had a tight piece o' ass right here waitin' for ya every night!" Daryl yelled back.
        "What is goin' on here?" Lori came in, eyes blazing between the three of you.
        "Wha'd'ya waitin' for, man? There's your side piece, go on and get her!" Daryl said.
        Shane lunged forward and you gripped around his torso tight, banking on the hope that he wouldn't hurt you to get past you, at least nit in front of her.
        "Don't fuckin' talk about here like that!" Shane seethed.
        "Yeah well ya sure didn't care 'bout me callin' your wife a tight piece of ass! I see where your priorities lie!"
        You couldn't afford to get distracted with the details as you put all your focus and strength into holding on to Shane to prevent anyone from getting hurt. However, the Dixon made some valid points.
        "Stop it, you two!" Lori begged.
        "Hate to say it," you strained against Shane's strength, digging your feet into the dirt as his strong frame fought against you. "But I'm with Lori."
        "Y'all need to calm down before--"
        "Is everything okay?" Dale's voice sounded from behind Lori, cutting her off. Amy, Andrea, and Morales stood with him. Lori sighed and put her hand over her forehead.
        Shane finally relented and you gratefully let go of him, turning to face the crowd of onlookers.
        "What happened here?" Dale inquired.
        "He was makin' a move on my wife." Shane panted, still coming down from the surge of adrenaline and rage.
        You scoffed, gawking at his audacity. You glared at Lori for a moment, running your tongue over your teeth before you shook your head and chuckled.
        "No, he brought me a drink because he felt bad for me, sleeping out here alone." You corrected.
        "Why are you sleeping all the way out here?" Andrea asked, shaking her head with confusion.
        "Yeah, it's really not safe. You should be up there with us." Amy added.
        "Yeah, Shane, Lori." You cocked your head to the side, crossing your arms as you looked between the two of them. "Why am I sleeping all the way out here? Hm?"
        Lori looked at you with wide, anxious eyes as Shane just shot daggers at you and Daryl. Lori looked back to everyone else, who seemed to be confused, except for Dale who had a knack for picking up on things.
        "Maybe we should head back to camp. It's getting late." Dale suggested.
        "I'm good." You rolled your eyes. "Thanks for ruining yet another peaceful moment." You said to Shane.
        "I'm confused." Andrea spoke up. 
        "Oh, allow me to clarify." You smiled, sickeningly sweet. Lori shook her head at you, but you ignored her. "Shane, my husband, and Lori, have been keeping a secret from us. Care to share with the class?"
        "(Y/N), man, come on. Why you gotta start problems?" Shane let out an exasperated sigh.
        "No? Okay, allow me to speak on your behalf, then. My husband has been fucking Lori, who, if you guys weren't aware, is married to Shane's best friend, who he claims is dead." You said.
        God, did that feel good.
        Everyone looked stunned, save for Lori who just looked humiliated and mortified, and Shane, who was more pissed than anything else.
        "Some leader, huh? A real honest guy." You added, just to add insult to injury. Salt in the open wound, if you will.
        "Oh...kay... Why don't we just.." Dale was at a loss for words.
        "Maybe (Y/N) can stay in the RV with us." Amy suggested.
        "Yeah, I think that'd be just fine." Dale agreed.
        "No need." You looked to Shane, smirking. "Daryl here has offered his tent."
        Daryl shot you a look. He had no intentions of being your pawn in some twisted revenge scheme.
        "You did?" Andrea asked.
        Daryl nodded. "Yeah, told her she could have it 'til she figures somethin' else out."
        "And you're gonna sleep... Where?" She wondered.
        "Outside." He shrugged.
        Shane scoffed and shook his head, hands rested on his hips in that police stance you had grown to hate. Your nostrils flared at him in disgust. 
----
        "Why'd ya do that?" Daryl asked.  You were all back at camp now. He was grabbing some essentials from his tent to make room for you. "Make it like it was somethin' it ain't?"
        "What do you mean? I told the truth. You offered your tent."
        "Nah, you wanted to get under his skin." He shook his head at you as you stood with your bag over your shoulder and your dusty blanket balled up in your arms.
        "I mean, yeah, but--"
        "But nothin'. I ain't gon' be part of your revenge and I damn sure ain't gonna be no rebound dick to ride 'til ya feel better." He cut you off before he stormed away.
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kteezy997 · 1 month
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the director’s daughter-part four//t.c.
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I’m having a bad day. My depression has been bad the last couple of weeks or so. This chapter is shorter than previous ones, but I wanted to put out something for you all to enjoy💕
Warnings: suspicious friends, slight angst, cursing, kissing, making out, beginnings of smut
The next day, y/n sat next to Timothée at breakfast. Florence had lovingly served up the hot morning meal with coffee and assorted juices. Of course, it smelled divine and everyone started to eat immediately.
Colleen announced that she thought it might be fun to have a BBQ at her home with all of the cast members and her daughter, obviously, and invite some other crew members. A little party to celebrate the kick off of the movie production.
Everybody agreed in a near unison, nodding their heads as they sipped their drinks and munched on their breakfast.
Y/n finished her plate, and sat silently as she glanced at Timmy periodically while pretending to listen to the table conversation. She thought he looked so cute, his bed head still evident, the heavy bags under his eyes from tiredness. It was such an innocent contrast to the events of the night before.
“So where were you two last night? We didn’t see either of you at all.” Zendaya asked eyeing up both y/n and Timothée.
Y/n looked at Z and Timothée swallowed hard.
He quickly cleared his throat, “Oh, I had a bad headache so I didn’t really feel like going out to see the fireworks.”
“Hmm.” Zendaya nodded, then looked at y/n, “And I suppose you went out with your friends as you had planned?”
She nodded, “Yes, I did.”
“Babe,” chuckled Tom as he touched his girlfriend’s hand, “are you their mother or something? Let them live.”
“No, I’m not mothering, I just thought it was a little funny because I’m pretty sure her car was here all night.” Z shrugged.
“Well, my friends actually picked me up.” y/n chimed, “And dropped me off early this morning.”
“Okay. That makes sense.” Zendaya seemed satisfied with the answer, but y/n couldn’t help but wonder why she was acting so suspicious.
“Wow, Zendaya’s a better mother than I am these days.” Colleen joked to lighten up the mood.
……
It was a good day, but it ran into evening and y/n was ready for everyone to leave so it would just be the housemates. She was mostly missing Timmy. With the filming schedule and having so many others in the house, they hadn’t been alone in a week. And this morning he didn’t even look at her at breakfast. She hoped he wasn’t losing interest in her.
Florence had suggested going for a dip in the hot tub to end the evening. She had brought a date that she met at the farmers market earlier that day, Shane, or Shawn, no one could remember which his name was.
Y/n went inside and up to her room to change into her bathing suit. Timmy followed her upstairs, not saying a word. She felt discouraged when he remained quiet and went to his own room. Maybe he was forgetting about her. She wanted the fling to continue, and maybe eventually turn into something more. Perhaps it was silly of her to think that could happen. She was still in college and he was a mainstream movie star pushing thirty.
She opted for a black one piece swimsuit that cut high up on her thighs. The square neckline also held her boobs up nicely. Maybe Timmy would notice.
She hurried along in an attempt to catch Timmy before he walked back downstairs to the jacuzzi. She opened the door and he was walking down the hallway, “Timmy, wait!” she called out to him.
He stopped and turned, raising a brow at her, “What do you mean? We’re getting in the hot tub.”
“I know.” she said, hustling over to him. She stopped, smiling softly as she put her hands in his hair and pulled him into a kiss.
He was surprised at first, but then kissed her back, holding her close by pressing his hand to her lower back. “Mm.” he hummed against her lips blissfully. “What was that for?” he asked with a tiny grin when she pulled away.
“Just checking.” she said, smirking back at him.
“What, just checking to see if I’m still into you? Because I am, Bunny.”
“Well, it hasn’t seemed like it this past week.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy, and I wasn’t sure if you were still in to me. I thought maybe you’d think I’m too old for you-"
“I thought that you’d think I’m too young for you. Like you could find someone your age who’s prettier and more experienced, maybe.”
“No, I’m sorry if I’ve been misleading. I definitely want you, y/n.” he smiled, then bit his lip.
She grinned like a schoolgirl, saying, “Fuck, I’m so lucky.” She pulled him into another kiss, a harder one, putting a firm hold onto the back of his head. She wove her fingers into the soft curls just for a moment. Pulling away, she quipped, “We should get out there before Flo comes to find us.”
Timothée chuckled, “Oh you know she will.”
They took each other’s hand, him leading the way downstairs, “Let’s keep it between us, just for a little while longer, yeah?” he asked, looking at her. “I mean, I’m sure everyone in the house might have their suspicions, but let’s not give in to them until we have to.”
“Sure. Let’s keep it close as long as we can.” she smiled, giving his hand a squeeze before they parted on the back patio.
“Fucking finally!” Florence exclaimed, seeing them both come down. She was in the hot tub with her date. “It’s about time you two showed up.” She gave the pair each a cheeky grin.
Some time went by, the four adults enjoyed the jacuzzi and the calm summer night, sipping their drinks and making light conversation about the film.
Things shifted, however, and Florence started kissing Shawn.
Y/n and Timothée kept to themselves, trying not to stare. But the other couple started making out more heavily and touching each other. The mood was entirely different from how it started out.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive
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mythorhuman · 3 months
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What about Bonnie's canon ships? Do you think they had potential?
Soooo, I'm rarely on here these days and I'm super inconsistent with checking my inbox. I have no idea when this was sent. Sorry!
Anyway, screw them. I can't put into words how much I hate Bonnie's canon ships. The way people completely disregard Jeremy's disloyalty and infidelity makes me sick. The devil tried to rewrite Jeremy/Anna as some love story just so Bonnie experienced pain. Anna was using Jeremy the same way she was using Ben. Bonnie revived this loser and he cheated on her with the same vampire that kidnapped Bonnie. She revives him again with the expense of her own life just for him to cross relationship boundaries again with Liv Parker. Beremy was a shit relationship because Jeremy has the maturity of a toddler, constantly walking himself into danger cluelessly with Bonnie playing the mother who needs to protect him. Almost every single man who showed interest in Bonnie did so to use her (Ben, Luka, Shane). Bonnie didn't even like Jamie which is why she ditched him immediately.
Her relationship with Enzo brought a regression of Bonnie as a person. She was reckless for the sake of love. He was carelessly poisoning her to death which mirrored their entire dynamic. Bonnie wasn't even Enzo's first choice nor was she his second or even his third. He was supposed to be the "love of her life" and yet everything about them revolved around Damon. The devil wasted Bonnie's love on the most irrelevant characters to give them substance. Even in her relationship, she's written as a tool. Firstly, she's used for keeping Jeremy safe. Secondly, she is used for making Enzo matter and persuading people to care about him as a character (no matter how many storylines they threw him into, no one cared). Her relationships are all about Bonnie serving a purpose for the betterment of the men and Bonnie gets absolutely nothing out of it.
The devil = Julie Plec for clarification
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D.D. | Shane’s Girl
Part One | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist
Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you're forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: Merle Dixon being Merle Dixon, Shane Walsh isn’t great either tbh
Word Count: 1K
Author’s Note: This has been sitting in my google docs just collecting ~metaphorical~ dust. I was going to put all the parts into one very long one shot, but instead, decided against it because I really, really like what I’ve written so far and feel that some feedback can help cure the writer’s block plaguing me. Let me know what you guys think.
Extras: Playlist
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Daryl Dixon didn’t think much of you and Shane when he first joined the ragtag team of survivors at the quarry, but he’s an observant man and Shane is anything but subtle.
It all started a few weeks after the world ended. Everyone was still recoiling from what they had seen and heard on their way to Atlanta, but they were trying to continue living. Shane was attempting to establish order in the makeshift camp. The women were charged with cooking, cleaning the laundry, and looking after the kids while the men were sent out to scavenge and hunt -- except for Dale, who spent most of his days working on his bucket of rust, and Shane, who has taken a liking to his newfound leadership and decided to become the watchful protector of the camp. Daryl thinks it’s a pretty backward way of thinking -- it’s the end of the world and we’re still worried about maintaining gender norms -- but who is he to argue?
It was one of the rare days Daryl wasn’t off on a hunting trip when you first piqued his interest. He was skinning the last of the squirrels he’d brought back from his latest hunting trip and Merle just had to open his mouth when you walked by.
“Hey,” Merle’s voice cut through the quiet conversations being had. Everyone’s eyes turned to him, including yours. “Why don’t you keep old Merle here company?”
Your eyes shift quickly to Daryl, who was trying to make himself look busy with the squirrel in his lap, before returning to Merle. You put your hands on your hips defiantly before answering.
“Looks like you’ve already got yourself some company, Merle.”
You motion toward Daryl while speaking. Daryl has to fight the grin that’s pulling his lips. He was expecting you to be like Lori -- quiet and submissive when the men are talking. But here you are, prepared to take on Merle Dixon all by yourself. He supposes he’s gotta respect that, even though he knows your answer is just going to rile Merle up more. Still, you’re here, standing up for yourself, which is more than he’s seen from others in the group. 
“What, you mean Daryl? C’mon sweetheart, he’s not much fun to talk to or look at.”
It’s the end of his sentence that has you turning to look toward Shane, who is once again sitting on top of the RV, a rifle in one hand and a canteen in the other. You’re hoping that Shane will look over and come to your aid. You certainly don’t need rescuing, but the support of your boyfriend would be nice right now. However, you’re met with nothing as Shane’s eyes never meet yours. You roll your eyes and turn back to Merle. 
Daryl watches you, squirrel in his hands forgotten for the moment. He can see the frustration on your face as you turn around, obviously not pleased with the fact that Shane is not paying attention to you in the slightest. However, despite your frustration, you don’t back down.
“I’d rather look at him than you any day.”
He knows you’re just saying that to get to Merle, but Daryl still ducks his head to hide the blush that spread across his cheeks due to your words. He quickly brushes the thought of there being even the slightest possibility that your eyes have wandered over to him during the past few weeks aside when Merle stands up. Daryl knows his brother and based on the look on his face, you’ve pissed Merle right off. This is bad news for everyone. 
Daryl stands as well, a hand already reaching out to stop Merle from advancing toward you. Merle swats Daryl’s hand away roughly. The action makes Daryl take an immediate step back, head ducking down again. 
“Don’t touch me!”
Merle’s raised voice seems to have finally gotten Shane’s attention.
“Woah, woah, woah. What’s going on here?”
Daryl lifts his head in time to see Shane make his way to your side. He places a hand on your shoulder as you continue your seething staring match with Merle. You’re about to brush off the encounter and tell Shane not to worry about it, when Merle opens his mouth again. 
“You better muzzle your bitch.”
And that’s when all hell broke loose. Shane launches toward Merle, yelling unintelligibly. You are quick to grab Shane off of Merle and Daryl follows your lead, pulling Merle back. Eventually, you and Daryl are able to wrangle Merle and Shane away from one another. You still have both your hands on Shane’s chest when he begins shouting again.
“You stay away from my girl. You hear me? You don't talk to her. If I see you even look at her, she won’t be able to stop me. Both of you.”
Shane’s eyes move from Merle to Daryl and the look in his eyes is ice cold, it damn near almost sends a shiver down Daryl’s spine. Daryl nods as Merle continues to struggle against him. Seemingly content with the response, Shane wraps an arm around your shoulders and begins moving you away from them. You spare Daryl a brief, apologetic glance before allowing Shane to drag you toward the RV.
Daryl pushes down the knot developing in his stomach as he watches Shane manhandle you. His hold is less protective and more possessive. It seems much less like he came to defend you from some unwanted attention and much more like he came over just to take back what’s his.
He shakes his head -- physically trying to rid himself of the thoughts ricocheting in his head. It’s not like he can do anything anyway. Shane made it crystal clear that you are off-limits -- and who is he to argue?
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annwrites · 5 months
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— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader
— type: part of a series
— summary: you & shane (mostly you) try to talk hershel into letting you take care of the walkers in the barn
— tags: talking
— tw: discussions of loss of loved ones
— word count: 1,009
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It'd taken a good bit of convincing on your part to talk Shane down from going full-steam-ahead and using the walkers in Hershel's barn for target practice.
Numerous soft words, touches, looks, and kisses later—and right in his lap, at that—he'd finally calmed enough to let you go inside and try and talk to Hershel yourself, instead of risking Shane, once again, acting first and thinking later, if at all.
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At present, you and Hershel are seated at his dining room table, Shane leaning back against the wall, eyes intently upon you.
You lay your arms upon the tabletop, hands clasped in front of you. You do your utmost to maintain a calm, sympathetic demeanor, in every manor, as you talk with him. Shane had already done enough damage. So much so that when you'd initially come to Hershel to talk, Shane right on your heels, he'd initially told the both of you to get out.
He'd only acquiesced due to you and your genteel femininity.
"How do you know? How can you look at me and tell me you don't believe there's a chance? For a cure? Something? Rick insisted the same thing, and my answer is the same now as it was then: we've been fighting plague after plague since the world began. And we've always survived, just as we will now. Just as...as they might." Hershel asks, voice full of doubt.
"You've been sheltered here. I can appreciate that. But you've still seen them. Their skin is rotting from their bones. Entire limbs...missing. Their organs have decayed. There's...there's no coming back from what they've become. And I hate to say it, because it's still so awful to even try and accept, to even grasp, but they're walking corpses. Who they once were? Your neighbors and friends, your family—people you loved and cared for? They passed away a long, long time ago.
“I think that, even if by some miracle, a cure or vaccine—treatment—one day becomes available…it won’t apply to them. They’re too far gone for any amount of saving. And I’m so sorry to say that. Truly.”
He’s quiet for a long while, staring at the window across the room, his breathing steady. You know he’s thinking; considering.
He doesn’t look at you when he replies. “You’ve lost people you love. By your age, I assume your parents?”
He glances to you then and you nod.
“Would you see things this way if they were in there?”
“I would.” And you mean it.
Shane sighs. “Man, let me tell you somethin’-”
You turn abruptly toward him. “Shane, stop.” You say it firmly.
He shuts his mouth.
Hershel then looks at him. “If you speak again, this meeting is over. You’re not the one I agreed to listen to. I let you in my house as a courtesy. Same with my farm, which you and your people were supposed to have been gone from some time ago after Carl recovered. But I’ve allowed you to stay longer out of good Christian charity, which runs lowers with every word you speak. Don’t you forget that.”
Shane shakes his head, looking away, thumbs threaded behind his belt.
Finally, Hershel looks back to you. “How would you do it?”
“I’d really prefer—if you do agree to this—that you and your family not be here when we…put them down,” you say it as kindly—as softly—as you can manage. “I don’t want all of you bearing witness to it—in any form. I don’t want to risk any of you seeing it, or even hearing the gunshots.
“I know it’s dangerous: asking all of you to leave. But it would be, at most, for perhaps an hour. We can get started on digging the graves now…if you have an estimate of how many may need created? And then, when it’s time, a couple of our people can go with you, maybe to the training area we set up, since it’s already cleared out.
“And when you come back, and they’ve been laid in their graves, you tell us their names—what you want put on their markers—and we’ll help you do that, too. You’ll finally have a place where you all can go to see them. To talk to them. To mourn them and grieve. They can finally be put to rest.”
You reach across the table, resting your palm atop his clasped hands.
Hershel stares at the table and he’s quiet again for a long time. Then, “I need time to consider this. This isn’t a decision I can make on my own. They’re not just my family and friends.”
You nod, bringing your hand back. “I understand that. Take all the time you need.”
“And if I tell you, once I’ve decided, that my decision is no? If I tell you all to get off my land once and for all?”
You glance to Shane and you see his jaw feather and then he shakes his head.
You look back to Hershel. “Then we would leave. But you need to understand that…if you leave them in there…it may only be a matter of time. A matter of time before they get through the doors. Or break through the sides of the barn. And if—when—that happens… We won’t be here to help you if they begin to overrun the house, or your farm. So, I guess it’s a good thing Patricia, Jimmy, and Beth went through training.”
He stands then, as do you. “I’ll consider this.”
You smile. “Thank you for being willing to. For taking the time to listen to me.”
You all three head toward the front door, until Hershel stops Shane with a hand to his chest, which he then drops. “She’s an extraordinary young woman. You could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve her. Perhaps you should take that into consideration,” he nods his head toward you. “For her sake, when you think about what’s truly best for her.”
Shane doesn’t deign to give him a reply. He simply takes your hand firmly in his, leading you outside.
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1427 · 7 months
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When the Levee Breaks (pt. 1)
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Daryl Dixon x OFC
The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her. Right?
Chapt. Setting: Atlanta camp
Chapt. Warnings: degrading and sexist language, season 1 Daryl, he’s not nice in this, probably won’t be for a while. 
Word count: 1600 
A/N : (aka authors warning) this is written in Daryl’s POV soOo idk. Probably not everyone’s bag. Maybe it’s no one’s bag. These first three chapters are kinda rough and I’m sorry but I can only proofread my own stuff so many times before I either post it or delete it forever.
masterlist
17+ mdni for the whole story
After stringin’ a few squirrels for dinner I figure I should get back to camp. ‘m breakin’ through the tree line, and that’s when I see her.  Beatle. Beatle, for the first time in… shit, who knows? Definitely years, I’m not exactly sure how many. Beatle, just fuckin’ sittin’ at my fire. Like somehow she knew it was mine and showed up just to take it from me. Just sittin’. Smile on her face like she belongs there. She doesn’t. She doesn’t belong at this camp, with these people. Shit, Beatle doesn’t even belong alive if I’m bein’ honest. 
No one in this fuckin’ camp can hunt worth a damn.  They’re gonna expect me to feed ‘em, ain’t they? Eventually. Eventually the food’ll run out and it’ll just be me feedin’ fuckin’ everyone. M’not doin’ it. I’m not doin’ shit for ‘em anymore. Why should I? Left my brother on that roof to rot. Naw, I’ll hunt for my damn self. Don’t even know why I’m still fuckin’ here. Should be out findin’ Merle. Honestly, don’t even know why I’m not.
Even before the dead started walkin’. I figured her days were numbered since the first fuckin’ time I met ‘er. Drunk as hell, eyes glassy, loud annoying voice barkin’ like a damn dog. Just yap yap yappin at Merle and me, tits half hangin’ outta her bikini top. Ones cinched in the string like she’d just forgotten to take ‘em out from her last time around the bar. A dumb drunk bitch, Beatle. Stupid fuckin’ stripper name. Who’s dick gets hard over a stripper named Beatle? 
I watch her, just for a second, checkin’ to see if maybe it’s not really her. But it is. ‘Course it fuckin’ is. 
Shane’s the first person I see that’s not doin’ anything, going through some clothes in a duffel bag in the back of a van, figure he might know, “Where the fuck did she come from?” Pointing toward Beatle, her back to us, fifty yards away. Stupid purple hair blowing all over the damn place. 
Shane looks to see who I’m pointing at, but who the fuck else is new at camp? His eyes finally land on Beatle before looking back at me like he’s trying to fight the smile on his damn face, “Why? You interested?”
I’m tryin’ not to lose my shit that she’s even fuckin’ here. “Nah…” I shake my head, “I know ‘er.”
Shane looks up, surprised maybe, and then not. Looking from Beatle back to me again, eyeing us up. “Yeah, makes sense.” 
I squint back at ‘im, “S’that supposed ta mean?” 
He shrugs, making a face, before smiling again, folding another shirt into his pack, “Just that you look like you might know eachother.” He doesn’t say more but I know what he’s not sayin. “Is all.” He adds on the end just to reiterate. 
He means we’re both fuckin redneck trash to anyone who looks at us. I look back over at her, startin’ to get real mad at this jarhead dickhead. Not for her or nothin’. Even if he’s right, he don’t gotta say it. Or maybe it was the way he said it. Or the way he didn’t say it. Like a fuckin’ pussy. 
A part of me feels like standin’ up for myself. Hell, a part of me feels like stickin’ up for Beatle. But, shit, it’s not even worth it.
I cough up a lougie and spit it close to his foot. “So where’d she come from?” I’m fuckin’ repeating myself. I hate fuckin’ repeating myself. 
“Think she just wandered in. Must’ve been lost in the woods or something. Ask Rick. He seems to know everything.”
Can’t keep myself from crackin’ at his petty comment. Always so fuckin’ loud with his contempt, makin’ the situation obvious to anyone with eyes. Messy. 
I decide I’m gonna ask ‘er. She’s gonna see me eventually. Better I approach her first, right? Don’t need to get football tackled in the middle of doin’ somethin’ else when she sees me for the first time. So I pull out a cigarette and start walkin’ over.
She’s talkin’ to Andrea. She fuckin’ would. Both of them loud dumb bitches. Talking about all the dumb shit they miss since everything’s turned to shit. Not talkin’ about people or nothin’ important. Just bullshit like getting your damn nails done, and eating fuckin’ ice cream. 
“Where’d you fuckin’ come from?” Sayin it louder than I meant. More aggressive than I thought my voice would sound. Usually fuckin’ is, though.  The laughing between Andrea and Beatle stops and they look over at me, just standing there waitin’ for it to register. Waitin’ for Beatles reaction. Starin’ ‘er the fuck down like she doesn’t fuckin’ belong here. She doesn’t. 
Beatles eyes light up, getting up from her chair and runnin’ over to me like she’s never been more excited to see someone in her whole damn life. I try to brace myself, but she still rocks me backward as she jumps on me, “Daryl!” Should have stopped her, could have moved just right out of the way. But nah, I let her. 
I don’t hug her back though, just push her off and let her own feet catch her. Dumb bitch doesn’t know personal boundaries. Her voice so close to my ear, “Damn, don’t look so happy to see me.”
Happy to see her? I’m not. Didn’t think I could be so unhappy to see a familiar face in my whole fuckin’ life. But she wasn’t letting that stop her, never fuckin’ did. “I was lost, found this camp. They said I could stay.” She explains, her voice high and happy and annoying as it ever was. At least she’s not drunk. 
Everyone around the fire had gone back to what they were doing. Not watchin’ us anymore. They could probably see as well as Shane that it was obvious how we knew eachother. Well, maybe not exactly how. But they probably had a good idea. 
I dunno what to say to her explanation, so I don’t say nothin’. And she just stands next to me, too close, clearly not gettin’ the hint that I didn’t really wanna talk to her. Just wanted to know why she was here. Now I know. She wasn’t gettin’ that she could and should just go back to her conversation with Andrea about ice skating, or cocktails, or what the fuck ever. 
“What about you?” Her voice quieter for fuckin’ once. 
I shake my head, blowing smoke out, “Merle and me, met up with everyone...” I don’t feel like explaining it, so I don’t. 
Beatle’s lookin’ up at me, her big eyes all wide and excited like a dumbass deer too stupid to move out of traffic, “Merle’s here?” 
This coil of disgust, I feel it snaring it’s way through my abdomen. Yeah, that’s the feeling Beatle usually gives me. Back like it never fuckin’ left. “Nah, not anymore. Sorry to dry your cunt.” 
Beatle says “Ew” fast. Like she’s so disgusted by my vocabulary. Like she isn’t just as crude, the things I heard that little mouth of hers say. 
“He’s not…” she means dead.
“Nah, hes not dead.” Usually this is where I talk something nice about Merle, about how he’s a tough sunuvabitch or some other shit. But not to Beatle. Beatle already knows, and for some reason talking about Merle with her makes me.. fuck… whatever. 
Glancing over, it looks like Beatle’s finally got the hint that I don’t wanna talk to her. She probably really was excited to see me, and I almost feel bad for a second. Before she puts her grubby fuckin’ hand in my face and asks if she can have a cigarette. Needy fuckin’ bitch. 
I laugh right in her face. At the gall of her. That at the end of it all, of everything; she was still trying to get some fuckin’ handout. “Naw.”
“Oh, come on, Daryl, please? I haven’t had one in days!” As if I give a shit what she has or hasn’t had. Hasn’t seen me in years and wants to ask for favors? 
I keep draggin’ on my cigarette, blowin’ the smoke out, and m’not smiling anymore, “I said naw. I don’t see your tits out, why would I give you anything?” Fuck repeating myself.
“You wanna see my tits?” She says it like it’s actually a question. Like she really fuckin’ believes that I’m askin’. 
“You’re a dumb bitch, Beatle, y’know tha’?” I shake my head at her, laughin’ at her again. She’s fuckin’ ridiculous.  Taking another drag I realize the cig is trash, and I almost throw the butt into the fire but decide to hand it to her instead. 
She takes it, with needy fingers like I knew she fuckin’ would. Trying to hide my smile at how fuckin’ pathetic she always seems to be.  Watching her take my trash like it’s fuckin’ gold. She drags it once, I can smell the filter burning and she throws it in the fire. “Next time maybe you’ll share one with me?” Her voice is so sweet it makes me sick. Like I didn’t just call her a dumb bitch to her face. 
Saccharine and fake, that’s how she’s always been. All her cute little movements and motions, all just tryin’ to work me up so I’ll share my smokes or listen to her dumbass whine about anything and everything. Annoying.
“Prolly not.” And I’m already walking away from the fire. From Beatle. Going back to my tent and praying to god, Jesus Christ, don’t let her follow. 
Chewin’ on what she said. Lost, huh? See? Didn’t even belong alive. 
pt 2
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hannahssimblr · 2 months
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We spend the afternoon here, talking about all the things that come into our heads, most of which is music, happily, as I always have a lot to say on the subject. I let her go through my CD collection, and she confesses she hasn't heard of most of the artists.
“Bloc Party, really?” I say, showing the CD to her. “You don’t know them?”
“No! Why would I?”
“I don’t know, because they’re famous?”
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“I know Eminem,” she picks that one out of the pile, and I smirk, “That’s a pretty old one. I don’t really listen to it anymore.”
“Hm,” she turns it over in her hands. “Well, just letting you know, you forgot to take all the stickers off.” Her thumb nail picks at the corner of the parental advisory sticker, and I snatch it out of her hands. 
“No, leave it.”
“Leave it?”
“Yeah, the sticker stays on. C’mon, everyone knows that.”
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She examines me like I’m the weirdo. “Um! It’s a sticker, the same as a price tag. You just peel it off like a normal person would.”
“No, you keep it on so everyone knows you listen to music with bad words in it.”
This makes her laugh. “Oh, yeah, very important. Sorry. I would have peeled it off, because if my mam saw an album with that sticker on it, she’d have brought it to the charity shop the next day.”
“Bit strict, hm?”
“Yeah, I suppose. She just doesn’t like the idea of me being exposed to certain things.”
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I’d like to ask Evie what specifically she’s not allowed to be around, but judging by the bizarre way Shane clucks around her like a mother hen, I can guess. Alcohol. Drugs. Boys like me. I’m curious what it’s like to have parents that care about any of that stuff. I can’t imagine. 
“How would she feel about you coming to the festival? Does she know there’ll be songs with bad words there?”
“No, obviously,” she gives me a playful shove, “She’s not going to be going on iTunes and finding the artists. She barely even knows how to use the internet, and she’ll be fine about the festival as long as she knows Shane is there.”
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“What’s it with Shane, anyway?”
“Oh, God. She loves Shane. For some reason, she’s just obsessed with him, and keeps trying to get me to go out with him.”
“You don’t want that though, do you?”
She snorts. “Hardly. That’d be so weird.” She grabs my Prodigy CD and slips the booklet from inside. “He’s like my brother or something. It’s just sick.”
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“Right, right, so, like, just curious, what kind of guy would you-”
“That’s you,” she interrupts, holding a picture of Keith Flint with his tongue out up to my face. He’s got that green, clown hair thing going on and really intense black makeup under his eyes. I laugh, surprised. “What?”
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“That’s you,” she taps her nail against it. “Him.”
“Why? Because he looks bad?”
A shrug, “Yeah.”
God, it’s so stupid. I understand there is no sophistication to this joke, that it’s just an ugly-looking man, but that’s exactly why it’s so funny. She grins at me as I snicker into the back of my wrist. “What?”
“You know that’s good, c’mon.”
“I actually don’t know why I even said that. That’s the sort of thing I say in my own head.”
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���Very funny, okay, well two can play at that game.”
I reach for my Dodos, Beware of the Maniacs album, and she starts protesting before I can say a word. “No!” she says, “No, no! That’s not me!”
“Uh huh!” 
“That’s offensive, you can’t say that!”
“Evie…” I show her the image.
“No!”
“...Is that you?”
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I grab her leg and we fall about, howling, wiping tears from our eyes, laughing until I think I might be sick. If someone ever asked me what we were laughing about, I’d have to play it off, and pretend that I didn’t really think it was so funny, that it was a bit juvenile and stupid, but I would be lying about the first part. For some reason, nothing has even been as hilarious as pointing to an image of a big, looming bald man’s face and asking Evie if it is her.
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It goes on like this, as we try to find more ugly things to compare each other to, eventually pulling that magazine from under my bed and wiping off the dust to flip through, eventually landing on an very serious article about a family of inbred royals from Austria. We don’t even have to say anything. I just turn the page and we start shrieking. 
“Oh, God,” Evie’s face is red, and she has tears in her eyes. “I promise I’m usually not this weird in front of people.”
“Me neither, fuck sake, we have to calm down.” 
We look at the picture and burst out laughing again. 
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I decide it would be cool, eventually, to show off my immaculate, curated CD collection. I hold her hostage while starting and stopping my CD player, running through all the best songs and the best albums in my possession. Evie keeps pretending to know them, but then doesn't recognise their biggest hits. 
“Of course I know Gorillaz,” she scoffs. “I just don’t know this song, is all.”
“This is Feel Good Inc.”
“Yeah, I just don’t know it.”
“You’re lying to me!”
“No! I’m not caught up on new music yet! I don’t have time for everything…”
“Evie…”
“What?”
“This album is five years old.”
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When I try to teach her German, she fares no better. She pores over my textbook, trying her best to pronounce all the long words at the back, the ones that are, like, five different words squashed together into one. I understand the difficulty on one hand, but on the other, it's really not that complicated.
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“You have to stop trying to pronounce them weird.” I'm know I am beginning to come across as an impatient person. “It’s not like French. Just think in English.”
She takes a determined breath and gallantly butchers the word “entschuldigung.”
We go back to the start of the book and try “eins, zwei, drei” again. 
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“I’m tired of this! I can’t do the throat sound,” she protests, so I relinquish the book and lay it on the bedside table. 
“Well, just pointing it out, but you’d get it after a while if you kept trying.”
She peers at me. “It’s not a very nice language, is it? It sounds harsh.”
“There’s something about it,” I say. “Like any language, you know? Once you get to know it, you start to discover the nice things.”
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“Are you worried about having to speak it all the time?”
“Kind of. I’m mostly worried that I’ll have a strong accent, you know? And everyone will just think of me as the foreign guy, rather than who I really am.”
“Hm, yeah, I never thought about that.”
“It’s hard to be myself when I speak German. I just don’t know how to express what I want to say, or to be funny and whatever.”
 “Well, you could just show them an ugly picture in a magazine and say ‘ist das du?’”
“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll come across great.”
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Her eyes dart across my face. “I don’t think you should worry. I think everyone will like you, even if you have a bad accent. They’ll know just by being around you that you’re cool, and they’ll line up to be your friend.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, Jude, I think you’re really nice.”
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I smile. Resting my head mightn’t have been the greatest idea, because my body quickly informs me it is time to give in and sleep. Insomniac nights routinely catch up on me by the afternoon, and now heaviness pulls at my lids. With the sun heating my body through the window, and the soft, dreamy melody of a Radiohead song coming from the speakers, I want to stop fighting. Evie too watches the waves outside the window, and her breath moves with them, a meditation. I shut my eyes. It’s just for a few minutes, just to ease the sting. Then we can talk some more. I really want to talk to her more…
Beginning // Prev // Next
Corresponding LG Chapter
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thewhoreforhordes · 4 months
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Old Friends & New Love
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮!𝐜!𝐝𝐞, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥’𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩, 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐫!𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐛𝐬𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐞𝐫𝐚 : 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧/𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚
(not proofread!)
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Carl was your old friend pre-apocalypse, having escaped the dead-crowded city of Atlanta when it first fell with his mom and Shane, you had been close. You recall hanging out on top of cars in the Atlanta camp, making sure to stay within Dale's sight, and comforting him at the farm when Sophia passed, however when the prison fell and you were on the road, and you got low.
You began to wonder what the point of living was if you could just die tomorrow, so you decided to take things in your own hands.
If you were dying, it was going to be on your own terms.
Having ventured out past the group with the excuse of finding a bathroom, you began to scream at the top of your lungs.
"What's even the point of all this?! Come get me, fuckers!" You shrieked out of frustration, attracting exactly what you were looking for. Groans from a walker grew louder, as it shambled closer to you.
Perfect. You thought, rolling up your sleeve and holding out your arm, shutting your eyes tight and bracing for the bite as you mutter, "Carl, I'm sorry.." You anticipated the crunch of the walker penetrating your flesh once it gripped your arm, to no avail.
Thankfully for him, what you did see when you opened your eyes however, was Carl with his gun pointed at the tree beside you, and a dead walker slumped by your feet, its gnarly grip unwavering.
"The hell do you think you're doing, Y/N?" Carl slowly lowered his gun, with a look of concerned shock on his face.
"Carl! I-I was just-" You stutter out nervously, desperate to come up with an explanation as to why you were willing to let a walker bite you.
Needless to say, you weren't allowed to go off by yourself after that.
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Now here you were, in Alexandria, the world's new hope or whatever. Honestly, you could care less about it. You were just happy you weren't on the road anymore.
Although Carl seemed to be on the path to becoming some stone-faced killer for a while, he was also happy to be in Alexandria for one reason.
You.
He knew he loved you from the start, the way you made his heart flutter with a single smile, the way you made him weak in the knees with a giggle, the way you radiated kindness.
God, he loved you.
Being in Alexandria had its perks, for starters there were other kids, which you particularly enjoyed since you couldn't remember the last time you saw another kids face other than Carl's, which you didn't mind, but it was always nice to see other teenagers. Hell, you even had your own house again with Maggie and Glenn.
Another thing you got to have that you missed was sleepovers. Technically you had one big sleepover on the road and such, but that was different. This was with other kids and not just Carl.
It was going to be perfect, you thought as you tugged on a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, shoving some final things into your bag that you thought would be good for a sleepover when a knock is heard at the door.
"Come in!" You insisted, zipping up the backpack and slinging it over your shoulder, turning towards the entrance to see Carl.
"What are you doing here? I thought we were all meeting at Ron's." You cock an eyebrow suspiciously at the boy who flashes you a playful smile.
"We're supposed to, but I just had to see you obviously." Carl remarks which earns him a scoff from you, as you roll your eyes at him. "You're a real pain in my ass, you know that right, Carl?"
He watched as you walked past him, heading to the door and he couldn't help but stare. Tonight was going to be difficult to get through, that's for sure.
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As the two of you approached Ron's house together, he felt anxious. After all, this was his first sleepover since the fall with someone other than you. What if it didn't go well? What if they hated him? He couldn't do this, what was he thinking?
He continued to spiral within his thoughts until a soft brush against his hand drags him back to reality. "Carl? You still there?" A gentle voice calls out to him, one laced with familiarity, one that belonged to you.
"Yeah.. yeah, I'm still here.. just.. got caught up in my thoughts is all." He replies, instinctively reaching for your hand before pulling away with a face flushed with embarrassment. How could he do this? He hadn't even entered the house yet, and yet you're still making him all nervous.
A giggle escapes your lips, entranced by your best friend. "Don't worry.. you're going to do great, Carl." As you flash him a reassuring smile, he feels his heartbeat slow to a steady pace once more. You were practically magic with how quickly you could calm him.
You were so good to him, he couldn't take it. You take his hand and squeeze it gently, further reassuring him things were going to be fine as you knock faintly on the door of the Anderson's home.
After a moment or two, you're greeted by the oldest Anderson boy, assuming that Sam was at his friend's tonight. "Enid! Y/N's here with Carl!" Ron calls out to his girlfriend before offering you and Carl a smile. "Hey, guys.. glad to see you could make it." He soon moves aside, inviting you and Grimes inside.
You quickly make your way to the couch excitedly, waving at and pulling your friend Enid into a hug. "Oh my god, E! I'm so glad you came, this is like my first sleepover since everything happened! I'm so excited!" You immediately get to conversing with her, as Carl stands awkwardly with Ron.
"Your girlfriend chatty too?" Ron asks, nudging Carl as he does. "Girlfriend? Oh you mean Y/N? No, she's my friend.. she just dragged me to this sleepover or whatever." Carl responds, not bothering to turn to Ron when he responds, rather focusing on you laughing and giggling with Enid.
"Uh huh.. You seem rather captivated by her presence, you know?" Ron continues, to no avail. It's clear Carl stopped paying attention after he responded the first time.
You were so pretty to him. How could you just sit there talk, talk, talking away and still look so gorgeous? You were so sweet to him too. He couldn't believe how perfect you were, and he just had to have you. He decided he was going to kiss you.
Tonight.
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The night continues on as it usually does, Ron and Mikey wrestling to the disappointment of Ron's mom as you and Enid sit back and laugh, taking pictures on your digital camera, you trying to teach Carl how to bake (horribly, I may add..), and of course the night ends in Ron's room with substances and Ron and Enid making out.
You sit on Ron's bed reading comics and drinking with Carl, as Ron and Enid are doing.. their own thing and you lean over to Carl to whisper, "God, that's gross.. who the hell does that at a sleepover?"
Carl chuckles and shrugs, "Enid and Ron, apparently.." He replies in a hushed voice, taking a quick swig of the bottle you two were passing back and forth. If he was going to do what he was planning on doing, he was going to need a lot of courage.
He watches you flip pages and pages of the comic with seemingly no end, as he hands you the bottle and fidgets nervously with his fingers.
"Is.. everything okay, Cowboy?" You ask, finally looking up from your comic at the panicking Grimes boy next to you. You take a swig and turn your head to the side to look at him curiously. "You did great if that's what you're worried about.. the others loved you and-" You continue before being cut off.
"No! It's not that.. Fuck, Y/N-" Before you know it, Carl's lips are locked on yours in a unexpected yet passionate kiss. You melt into him, before slowly pulling away with a wide-eyed shocked expression on your face.
"Carl, did you just-" You try to speak, only to be cut off once again. "Shit, I'm sorry! I just think you're really pretty and I really like you and I just-" You recognize the signs of Carl spiraling in his thoughts once more, and gently cup his face. "Cowboy, I like you too.. Why do you think I invited you to this stupid sleepover?" You put his fears to rest once more, with your silky voice and little giggles.
He stares into your eyes for what feels like an eternity before snapping out of it, as it hits him what you said. "Wait, that's why you invited me here?" His face is plastered with confusion, as you chuckle at his bewilderment.
"Mhm, I was even talking with Enid about you earlier. Don't you remember?"
Carl, in fact, did not recall you telling Enid anything about him.
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Meanwhile, earlier that sleepover.
Carl stands near the door, his eyes glued to you as Ron tries to talk to him. Of course he had no luck, after all, the boy with the hat had better things to focus on.
However, here you were sat on the couch with Enid, whispering to her and laughing along with her. You felt like a real teenager, however somewhere along the line the conversation landed on the brown-haired boy. "Y/N, don't think I don't see the way he stares at you. He's staring at you right now!"
You look in Carl's direction, only to see him with a flushed face and immediately turning towards Ron, you shrug it off as Carl just being Carl, turning back towards Enid. "Look, even if I did like Carl, there's no shot. He probably has his eyes on another girl here. After all, I'm not the last girl on Earth anymore." You pout, finding your gaze landing upon the boy before you could even think otherwise.
"Y/N, I guarantee you that by the end of the night, his tongue is going to be down your throat." Enid teases, nudging you as you playfully hit her arm, tucking the possibility of you and Carl kissing into the back of your mind.
You doubted he would actually do it,
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yet here you were.
Sat in Carl's lap with your hand in his long, shaggy brown hair and his hand cupping your flushed cheek. "You know how long I've waited for this?" He carefully runs his thumb over your cheek as you run your fingers through the strands of his hair.
"How long?" You smile adoringly at him, before resting your head in the crook of his neck. "Since the day I met you.." He rubs your back, bringing your head up to meet his lips, tongue rolling over your bottom lip.
You tasted as sweet as he hoped you would, like honey and cherries. You tasted devine, and frankly he couldn't get enough.
Slowly, you part your lips, entangling his tongue with yours, as his hands go down to your waist. You felt silly for judging Enid and Ron, while you were here, tipsy and making out with your childhood best friend. Who cares? You've craved him for so long, nothing could bring you down from the high he gives you.
Then it hits you,
Maggie and Rick are going to kill me.
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Author's Note: hey guys!! this is my first real fic i'm publishing and i would love some feedback/ideas!! i do have a plan for a smutty one based off of this if yall want it, and one for a fluffy scene of Y/N and Carl baking!! i really hope you guys enjoy and sorry if some parts seem rushed or something again this is like my first fic!!
@nahokura
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glowingbadger · 1 year
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Guarantee y'all didn't expect Shane to be my next target lmao but I've started a new sdv game and he's just such a sweet man and I want nice things for him. As the kids say- poor little meow meow
CW for a brief alcoholism mention
And damn Reader-Chan is a lot more forward in this than I usually write them lol but that's kinda necessary with a guy like Shane tbh.
Shane (SDV) x GN/AFAB Reader
A roll in the hay
NSFW 18+
Shane nudges open the door of your chicken coop with a bucket of fresh water in one hand and a hay bale balanced on his shoulder with the other.  You look up from where you’d been securing a new hinge on the smaller rolling door, and smile at the sight of him.  Truth be told, you’ve been looking at him a lot lately.  The healthy flush and subtle sheen of sweat on his skin pair nicely with the worn-in jeans and t-shirt he’s wearing to help you work.  His posture is straighter these days, and it draws your eyes up to strong shoulders that you hadn’t noticed were so broad until recently.  You’ve noticed other things, too- that he shaves more often, though by late afternoon he’s regained that five-o-clock shadow you’d always thought was strangely handsome on him.  That he positively glows and smiles in a way that brings creases to the corners of his eyes when he talks about Jas, or all the progress he and Marnie have made with the animals.  That he spends less time at the Saloon and more visiting you.
“Over here good?” he asks, shaking you from your thoughts.
“Hm?  Oh- yeah, that corner’s perfect, thanks,” you straighten up and brush off the front of your shirt and shorts, with a brief ‘whew!’  Then, you take a look around the newly-immaculate coop with your hands planted proudly on your hips. 
“Man, this place is looking as nice as the day Robin built it.  I really appreciate your help today, Shane.” you smile, catching the way he fidgets with the pocket knife in his hand as he bends to cut the bale of hay loose.
“Nah, it’s no big deal.”
“Well it is to me.  Afterall, I’ve got assistance from the Valley’s foremost chicken husbandry expert.” you’re sure to add a note of grandeur to the title.
“‘Foremost expert?’  C’mon,” he says with a short laugh.  In a practiced motion, he cleanly cuts the ropes around the hay and pulls them free, adding, “You give me way too much credit.” 
“And you give yourself no credit,” you reply, crossing your arms in a faux-pout as he rises and turns to you, “So I have to give you enough for the both of us.” 
He sighs, but he can’t seem to help the way the corner of his mouth curls into a grin.  With his dark brown eyes cast low, he tries to act like he’s focusing really hard on closing up his knife and storing it back in his pocket. 
“Well, y’know,” he mumbles, “I’m… happy to help with anything you need, just ask.  I’d like to be more reliable- at least for Aunt Marnie and Jas, and, uh… for you.”
Your smile softens, and you step closer to him, but before you can speak, he adds,
“Sorry, that must’ve sounded weird.  I- I’m gonna get this hay taken care of.” 
You almost laugh- he’s just too sweet, but you can’t risk making him feel more self-conscious.  So, stealing just a moment longer to watch him grab the nearby rake and start work in the corner, you decide to give him a bit of space and head into the house for some water. 
Shane has just finished arranging the fresh hay in a pile in the corner of the coop by the time you come back with water bottles and towels for you both.  You toss one of each to him with a nod, which he lurches back a step to catch. 
“Thanks,” he says with a heavy exhale.  He sounds exhausted from the day’s work, but pleasantly so, and you smile as you watch him wipe his face and hands clean with the towel.  Truly, it had been a huge help to have him around to help with a few things you’d been putting off, though you suppose he’s used to this kind of work.  The chickens are content to mill around in the fields outside until you finished, and two people had made for surprisingly light work all things told, so you feel you both have earned the chance to catch your breath and relax.  
Shane stretches out his arms, one and then the other, and you note for the third or fourth time that day that he actually has some impressive strength hidden on that physique of his.  You’d only recently started to take note, but it makes sense; carrying around product crates at Joja every day for so long- and now at Pierre's -not to mention the work he does to help Marnie with her own chickens, it follows that he’d have built up some muscle under his soft exterior.  Looking at him once again causes a familiar flutter in your stomach, and you smile to yourself.
He takes a swig of water, then glances over at you.
“Something on my face?”
You shrug.
“No, sorry,” you make your way towards the hay piled up in the corner and plop down onto the floor, then lie back against it, reclining comfortably with your hands behind your head and legs crossed out in front of you.  Shane follows your lead, careful to keep a respectful distance as he settles on straw beside you.  
“I was actually wondering,” you turn on your side towards him, closing half of that distance, “What suddenly inspired you to come help me out today?  Like I said, I appreciate it, you’ve been a huge help- but I figured you’d want to relax on a day off.” 
His eyes scan your face for a moment, then he looks blankly back up at the ceiling.
“Well you know, you’ve done a lot for me.  Been there for me, listened to me ramble about stupid stuff, and, uh… just figured I’d try to do something for you.” 
You smile warmly at him, but he goes on,
“And, well…” he sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, “Truth is, It’s also… been one of those days, actually.  When I start feeling like… hey, a drink or two, what’s the harm?  And I guess- if it were actually one or two, that would be fine, but I know myself.” His expression darkens, and he sighs again, heavier this time. 
“So you needed something to take your mind off of it,” you say.
“Basically, yeah,” he turns back to you wearing a wry smile, “Sorry to make you babysit me.  I guess that’s pretty lame, huh.” 
“Not at all,” you shift closer to him, “I’m really happy that you trust me enough to come to me with this.  Besides, isn’t this a huge step forward?  Reaching out and doing something productive instead of falling back on bad habits?”
“I… I guess so.” he almost looks unsure of whether he can allow himself to smile at this or not, and his eyes shy from yours. 
“Shane,” you’re lying closer to him now, your bodies in that strange space where you can feel one another without touching, “I want you to know that I’m really, really proud of you.” 
His eyes flicker down for a moment, you think towards your mouth, and his face is visibly pink. 
“Man.  How do you always know exactly what to say?  It’s… totally unfair.” 
When you bring a hand gently to his cheek and lean closer, he seems to freeze at first, until he leans towards you at the last moment before your lips meet.  Shane’s are soft, his kiss slow and incredibly tender- though tentative still.  His hand rests over yours, but gently, as though he’s not yet sure whether he should touch you.  When your tongue grazes his lower lip, he gives a breathy moan that you only barely hear, and briefly, you part from the kiss.  You rest your forehead against his, and he whispers your name with audible disbelief.  He’s trembling just a little.  His hand reverently brushes your hair from your face. 
Without a word, you kiss him again, harder this time.  He can’t hold back a low groan, and the sound squeezes around your heart and warms your body.  You only break from him for a moment to sling your leg over his hips, straddling his lap and pressing yourself to him.  At last, he wraps those strong arms around you, holding you close as your tongues tease one another and your nails dig down his chest from atop his clothes.  Your pulse is pounding, and you can feel from his chest that Shane’s is too.  Yet when your hands run down his torso to ease his shirt upward, he halts, breathless.
“Y/N, wait- you… you don’t have to do this.” 
You feel his touch abandon you.  When you look curiously down at him, he’s doing his best to appear stoic. 
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” his eyes dart away from you, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do and everything, but… it wouldn’t feel right to go this far.  Just to, y’know, cheer me up or whatever.” 
Your heart aches as his words sink in.
“Shane,” your tone is gently admonishing, “Is it really that hard for you to believe that I like you?” 
He takes a breath, his face burning red.
“Well, uh… ki- kinda…” 
Wordlessly, you take his hands in yours and guide them to your waist.  He looks up at you, surprised, confused, and eager despite himself.  Then, you guide his touch along your sides- slowly, so he can feel each inch of your body as it passes under his palms.  When his hands reach your breasts, you encourage him, pressing his touch more firmly to you, squeezing soft flesh until you feel his cock, hot and hard between your thighs, throb conspicuously in response.  
“Shit, sorry, I-”
“Don’t apologize.” 
You grind your hips down onto him, rutting your warmth against his erection and wishing dearly that there wasn’t so much damned fabric between you and him.  He looks gorgeous like this- flush-faced, muscles tensed, watching you with rapt attention as you encourage him to touch you as he likes.  At last, it seems he no longer needs direct guidance; his hands cup and massage your breasts, firm but never rough or forceful.  Now and then, he lets his hips shift against yours, creating that wonderful friction between you.  You lean down and kiss him again, deeply and firmly, willing your feelings to reach him.  You know that words and platitudes would do nothing for a man like Shane.  You’re determined to show him how earnestly you want him. 
Once again, your fingertips play at the bottom hem of his t-shirt, slowly pulling it upward.  When your lips part from his, he’s softly panting, his breath hot and eyes hazy.  You linger near enough that your lips brush his when you speak,
“Please, Shane?” 
He nods, and you give him enough space to tug the shirt over his head.  Clumsily, he shoves the shirt beneath him to avoid scratching his back against the hay.  You think for a moment that maybe you should take this to your bedroom- but damn, he just looks too good laid out on the straw beneath you, hair mussed out of place, flushed skin still dewed with the slightest hint of sweat.
You can’t help yourself- you press your body to his and kiss down the column of his neck, stopping to bite here and there, reveling in every mark you gift him along the way.  He groans out your name, hands running along your hips, gripping the swell of your thighs, even bold enough at last to grab onto your ass and pull you against him.  Only after you’ve kissed and bitten and caressed to your heart’s content, dragged your nails down his chest and felt him arch against you, do you finally pause.  
“Wait just one second,” you whisper in the heated air between you.  Then, you get to your feet to undress.  He watches you in a state of restless arousal and lingering disbelief as you strip for him.  You’re tempted to prolong the process and really savor his adoring eyes on you- but you find you’re too eager for what’s to come.  So you remove shorts and flannel and undergarments, leaving yourself in only your work boots and returning to his lap as quickly as you can.  
“Wow…” Shane’s hands run the contours of your body as he takes you in, and you smile down at him.  
“Do you believe that I want you yet?”  Your tone is playful, but the question is at least partly sincere.  
“I dunno,” he can’t tear his eyes from your body, “Seeing you like this honestly makes it even harder to believe.  You’re just- you’re so… wow.  It feels like a dream.  Or like I’ve lost it and this is all in my head.” 
As he speaks, your hands run down his front to undo the button of his pants.  Then, you hold his gaze as you slowly drag down the zipper.  Your touch firm but gentle, you free his rock-solid cock from his boxers and let out a happy little moan at the sight of it.  On the larger side of average length, extremely thick and pleasantly veined, it’s an incredibly tempting sight.  You stroke it once with your hand, then again and again, less tentatively each time.  You enjoy the heft and shape of it, and the way Shane catches his breath at your touch.  He’s sensitive- each brush and caress of your hand, each teasing motion of your fingers, has him blushing and biting back his voice.  You consider prolonging this too, but the raw lust you can see blazing in his eyes despite himself, the way he stammers out your name when you grip him more firmly and precum slickens the head of his member- it’s far too erotic to resist.
You position yourself carefully over him, the head of his cock nestled between your lower lips- but you don’t let him enter you just yet.  Instead, you sway your hips against him, rubbing his entire length against your needy cunt.  He moans aloud, his fingers gripping tight at your thighs, his member twitching.
“Does this feel like a dream?” you say with a grin.
“No, it- it feels good,” he manages, “So damn good…” 
You continue grinding against him, bulging veins and the ridge of his crown all stroking you sinfully with each pass.  Before long, you’re able to angle yourself so your clit rubs against his cockhead as your hips sway, and you let out a pleasured whine that sends a shiver through him.  By now, he’s coated in your arousal, his length glistening with your release.  
“Can you feel how wet I am for you?”
“Nngh, yeah,” he groans, “Fuck, so hot…”
For a moment, you feel his hands at your hips trying to guide you onto him, his body bucking slightly towards you, seeking you out.  You smile and place a brief kiss to his lips, then say,
“You can stop holding back now, Shane.” 
His arm wraps around your midsection, warm and sturdy, and he turns you onto your back.  A few awkward moments pass in a frenzy as he shifts his discarded shirt under you to ensure your comfort, and you fumble a hand to the side to grab the condom from your shorts’ pocket.  He seems surprised that you’d had it on hand, but opens it and rolls it down onto his length regardless. His brow is handsomely furrowed as he guides the tip to your entrance.  You watch him in a blissful haze, arms wrapped loosely around his broad shoulders, and you gasp as he begins to push into you.  
“Ohh..!” 
Each inch of his thick cock stretches you wonderfully as he thrusts forward, and your head tilts back, your toes curl.  Once inside of you, he hooks an arm under one of your knees, holding your legs spread open as he fills you.
“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined…” 
Your face warms at the thought that he’d fantasized about this- perhaps even pleasured himself to the thought of you.  You’ll have to pursue that train of thought later- right now, you can’t think of anything but how damn good it feels to finally have him.  To feel his body start to move in tandem with yours, massaging the bulging contours of his cock into you.  To see him looking at you like you’re some unearthly beauty.  
You pull Shane down to you and kiss him, your tongue sliding into his mouth and coaxing him further.  With a groan, he drives his hips forward, stuffing you full of him until you’ve taken him to the base of his throbbing member.  Gasping and whimpering blissfully into his mouth, your nails rake along his strong shoulders and into his hair.  Somewhere in the back of your pleasure-dazed mind, it occurs to you that if anyone happened to stop by the farm today, they’d easily hear your cries through the flimsy walls of the chicken coop.  You quickly decide that you don’t care; in this moment, nothing is more important than showing Shane how you feel about him.  He needs to know that he’s cared for, wanted, desired.  
He pulls away from your kiss, and on instinct, you tug him back down to you with your arms around his neck.  At first, he relents, relaxing back into your embrace and kissing you over and over while he bucks into you at a steady pace.  Eventually, however, he decisively straightens his back to kneel over you, his thrusts slowing but never ceasing- you’re not sure he could bring himself to stop rubbing himself against your clenching inner walls.  Just when you’re about to question him, he brings a hand between your legs, his thumb fumbling a bit clumsily at first until he strokes across your stiffened clit.  
“Ohh… fuck, right there..!” 
“Like this?”
“Yeah- ohh, yes, just like that!”
Shane takes your direction well- a bit unsure at first, the moment he finds the right pressure, the right pace, the right angle, he memorizes your preference.  Your legs wrap around his midsection, pulling him close until he’s sheathed deeply in you while his fingers tease your clit.  His free hand grips at your thigh as he watches you squirming and arching beneath him.  He’s entranced.
“S’that good?”
You nod, biting at your lower lip.
“So good, Shane… c-close- I’m gonna..!  Mmmh!” 
“Fuck-” he exhales, his hips bucking more forcefully into you, “Let me feel it.  Please, Y/N, I- I wanna feel you cum..!” 
Your thighs are trembling, your cunt squeezing tight around him.  Eyes hazy, you manage to meet his adoring gaze as you inch closer and closer to the edge.  Your hands scramble to grab onto anything, and only find the hay and his shirt beneath you.  He’s massaging your tender clit just right, his cock stretching you perfectly.  Shane is determined to satisfy you- his focus is relentless, reverent affection openly shining in his eyes.  Soon, gasping his name, your eyes roll back as you’re swallowed in a wave of mind-numbing pleasure.  And it seems bringing you to this blissful release breaks through to something in him.  
Before you’ve even fully recovered from the aftershocks of your orgasm, he lowers himself to you and wraps an arm around your waist.  His cock draws out from you nearly to the tip, then slams back in, forcing a desperate cry from your lips.  The next thrust is every bit as forceful, and you’re certain he’d be pushing you away from him if he weren’t holding you so close.  Shane maintains this pace, fucking into you with long, powerful strokes of his cock that never become fast enough to numb you to the sensation.  Your limbs feel weak, your head fuzzy and thoughts scrambled.
Shane’s lips find the crook of your neck, spoiling you with deep, erotic kisses.  When he marks you, it’s not the precious, playful little love-bites you left him; his marks are dark bruises, his teeth pressing to you until just before the pain becomes too much and leaving you branded with his lust.  Your nails scrape across his back, and in the moment, neither of you even notice.  Swollen red lines left as souvenirs will be a lasting reminder of your shared passions. 
“So tight… nngh, fuck-” he grunts your name against your skin, “Dunno… how much more of this I can take…”
“It’s okay, Shane,” you say softly between gasping moans, “I- I want it..!  Please-!” 
His kiss presses you down against the bed of hay.  His hands run up your sides, pulling you back against his thrusts, ensuring that the head of his cock hits deep with each push.  Then, panting for breath with his forehead resting on yours, you feel his climax in every part of his body on yours.  You feel the way his cock swells and lurches with each spurt of cum.  The way his hands hold almost painfully tight at your waist.  The way his muscles tense, his frame shivers, his voice stalls between grunting moans.  He’s gorgeous- and you can’t help breathing out his name as your own body feels both boneless and weightless beneath him.  Then at last, you exhale in unison, bodies still tangled together as muscles go slack.
You imagine you look an utter mess.  Stray bits of straw poke through your hair, to say nothing of the sweat shared between your body and Shane’s.  You’re marked up, red in the face and short of breath- and you can’t recall the last time you felt so wonderfully satisfied.  Gazing up at Shane as he regains his bearings- to some measure of success, anyway -he looks about the same as you figure you do.  It’s a cute look on him. 
“Always knew you had that in you somewhere,” you say with a coy, if hazy grin.  
“Did you?” his voice scratches awkwardly in his throat, but he returns your smile, “You’ll have to catch me up, cause apparently you knew where today was going a whole lot better than I did.” 
Perhaps just now remembering that his cock is still inside of you, he carefully pulls out, stifling a groan at that last precious moment of friction.  He removes the filled condom while giving a short, incredulous laugh.
“I mean, you even had this thing on hand.”
“Grabbed it when I went inside for water,” you say with a casual shrug, “Watching you working up a sweat out here got me thinking.” 
Shane repeats that same laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.
“You’re a weird one, you know that?”
“And you don’t even know how hot you are,” you reply, unshaken. 
“There you go again,” he huffs out as he collapses onto the hay beside you, “Saying stuff that makes me crazy.”
Without a word needed between you, Shane loops an arm around your waist and pulls you on top of him, and you gladly follow.  Evidently, he no longer cares about the scratching of the straw at his back.  You figure it couldn’t compare with the scratches you’d left to linger there, anyway.
“I’ll keep saying it until you believe it,” you lean in, still smiling as you kiss him once more.  At long last, he kisses you back in a way that feels certain and unafraid.  When you draw away, his hand has come to cradle the side of your face, and he looks at you.  Just looks at you.  You can only imagine what he must be thinking, but when he finally breaks the silence, he says,
“Shit, what time is it?” he glances at the door but can’t seem to get his answer from the light peaking through the cracks, “I promised I’d be home for dinner… Not that- I’m not trying to- I- I wish I could stay, honest,” he stammers, and you laugh.
“Shane, it’s fine, I know it’s important.  Why don’t I walk you back?  I can vouch for you.” 
Those dark eyes search your face for a silent moment.  
“You could… stay and help me whip up some dinner for everyone.  If you wanted.  No pressure,” he quickly adds, “I’m not trying to make this more than it is, unless you want to, but this is fine and I won’t push you or anything, it’s just… Jas always likes it when you come over.” He lets the sentence end lamely, his voice flat. 
You can’t help laughing, and you press a brief but tender kiss to his lips.
“That sounds great, Shane.  But we should probably be wearing more clothes and have less hay in our hair, first.”
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thebluester2020 · 4 months
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[SDV] Infection AU
Summary: It was supposed to be another day on the farm. You'd wake up, check the mail, feed the animals, maybe even go into town to pick up some new seeds! But...when the wizard suddenly appears at your door to tell you that a mysterious plague had fallen upon Pelican Town and Ridgeside Valley, causing the townspeople to morph into hideous flesh-eating creatures while also emboldening the monsters of the Mines and Ridge to come out and attack all who aren't affected, you and your spouse stand as one of the few who aren't amongst the affected but...how do you both survive such a horrid new reality?
Warning(s): Some explicit character death (I've played Dead Space y'all, I'm not holding back on kids being man-eating monsters), Some good ol' angst, the Farmer really shines as a monster-slayer here, Y'all are gonna hate me for Shane's part and I'm not elaborating on that,
Note(s): I've been CRYING out for someone to make an Infection AU of Stardew ever since I saw it trend for MLP on TikTok. But hey, as they say, want something done? Do it yourself ig. I decided to only include three bachelors because A. I want to make a part 2 sometime since it's way too long as it is tbh and B. I NEED TO MAKE FANART OF THIS AU DUDE. I LOVE ZOMBIES AND DEAD SPACE MONSTERS
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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About a week ago, Marlon had told you that an emergency commission had come up, one that was apparently so important that it needed to be put as your main priority over any other commissions you may have had at the moment. At the time, you didn't have a mind to think much of it when he explained the nature of the commission, that it was brought forth to him by an anonymous source. The commission spoke of a monster, one that displayed an "Alpha-like" nature over the rest of the monsters and was far more aggressive than the others.
Since the moment you took on this commission and began searching for this mysterious creature, you had a mind to think that Marlon was finally beginning to lose his sanity as you hadn't once spotted this mysterious creature...at least, until it was too late.
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Sebastion : "The Long Walk Home"
You couldn't sleep.
You had been tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you finally decided to get up and go to the mines. And the culprit for your sleepless night? The emergency commission that was thrown to you by Marlon around two weeks ago. The fine details of the commission were forgotten by you by now but basically, the older man had went on and on about how this creature was a major threat to not just the region of Stardew Valley but potentially everywhere close to it!
The monster was described to be as big as a fully-grown Pepper Rex. Thankfully it was unable to breathe fire but it came with a different quirk, which was the fact it had a disgusting ooze about its skin. One that was rumored to make you dizzy and eventually burning with rage if you breathed in the smell for too long.
If you were to be honest with yourself, you thought Marlon was exaggerating a little.
And that thought only grew more and more as you continued to search through the deeper levels of the cavern with your poor spouse trailing behind you.
"What's this monster called again?" Sebastion said from behind you.
The two of you had been searching for hours now, looking under every rock and peeking into any crevice you could find in hopes of at least getting some type of hint as to what this creature was and where it may have been. "Don't know," You yawned. "Marlon didn't give me a name, just a description." You said, patting your cheeks to try and keep yourself awake as you started to feel a bout of sleepiness wash over you.
"It's really important and really dangerous as well." You added on before you looked behind you. "You know, you didn't have to come...you know that right, Sebby?"
Your husband flashed you a shy smile. When he had drowsily woken up to the blurry sight of you putting on your boots and clothes, grabbing your weapon from the weapon's rack. He stopped you and insisted on coming along with you. It wouldn't have been his first time venturing into the mines, especially in regards to the deeper levels, and he was good with a sword as well! But, more than anything? If this creature was so dangerous...he couldn't bear the thought of you facing it by yourself, even if he wasn't up to your level in terms of swordsmanship.
He at least wanted to offer support.
"I didn't have to but I wanted to. I won't let my spouse face a boss-level monster alone." The joke made you giggle a little before you stopped in your tracks and sighed.
"Well..." You took out your phone to check the time.
It was going on three in the morning and you had a busy day tomorrow. You had planned to visit the Skull Cavern in search of more iridium as well as buy some more Starfruit seeds from Sandy! "Think we should call it a night? I'm getting sleepy and I want to take a shower."
Your husband's brow rose a little. "You sure? You've been at this commission for around a week now, right? Maybe tonight is when you can finally finish it."
As he sheathed his sword, you snickered teasingly as you pinched his cheek, resulting in the man's cheeks beginning to tint ever so slightly. "I've taken longer on other things, besides, I feel bad making you trail after me. Plus, I don't think it would be a good idea to face a boss level monster while we're both tired as shit, right?"
Sebastion nodded his head in agreement before the two of you started off in the direction of the ladder. He never minded following you, no matter how long it took, in his eyes? Spending even a single millisecond longer around you was much more preferred compared to spending that time all by himself similar to how he did in the basement. But, once the two of you were out of the mines and felt the cool night air on your skin once again...immediately, you felt that something was...off.
When things suddenly became too quiet in the mines, you knew that there was something dangerous in the air.
The same could be applied to the outside. More or less, you don't think you'd ever felt unsafe out in the town but...tonight was different.
So, you slowly unsheathed your sword. "What is it?" Sebastion said.
"Something's not right- GAH!" You suddenly shouted and dropped your weapon when the wizard suddenly appeared in front of you, making you fall to your bum as your chest heaved up and down in fright.
But as you quickly picked up your sword and got up, about to tell the man off. Your words caught in your mouth when you noticed the wizard's appearance. He looked...bloodied and bruised, scratched in some places too. A stark difference from the typically noble and wise air he gave off. "Farmer, are you and your spouse okay?" He quickly asked as he checked you over.
Your eyes widened as he took your arm and looked you over. "W-We're fine..." You answered before he then walked over to Sebastion, looking over him like a worried mother hen. "Why? What's wrong? Why are you bloody?"
"Something's happened," He said. "The townspeople...they're-"
Your blood ran cold. "What happened?" Sebastion asked for the both of you.
"The townspeople-" A shrill yet guttural howl rang out through the air, interrupting the wizard and causing him to suddenly raise his hand before a strange see-through rune appeared out of thin air near the entrance into the mines.
"Why did you-"
"Half of the town is dead," The wizard said, a little bit more quietly this time. "There's some type of...virus going through the air. It's turning the townspeople into twisted versions of themselves."
Your breath caught in your throat as your mind immediately went to the monster you and your husband were just searching for a few minutes ago. "I-Is it...is it related to the-"
"No," You let a sigh of relief. "The virus is related to the Shadow people, however, that creature that you were tasked to kill may have been a variant of them."
A guttural roar from outside made all three of you jump, your heart pounding in your chest as you took Sebastion and tried to lead him to the train cart. "Well then, as fun as it is to talk to you wizard...we need to go-"
"I wouldn't recommend the train cart." He said.
Sebastion looked back. "Why?"
"Because the creatures are fast enough to keep up with a moving train cart."
You clenched your free hand, exhaling through your nose. "Then what do we do?"
"You sneak back to your farmstead. I have placed a barrier around your farm, protecting your animals and eventually you and your spouse's until you return."
"What about the monsters?"
"The barrier seems to have made the area invisible to their eye. So far, they haven't gone near."
Your attention then went to Sebastion as the prospect of sneaking back to your farm to avoid a horde of monster-turned-villagers was...frightening to say the least. Sure, you've had moments in the Mines where you've snuck past monsters and managed to somehow fool ghosts but this? You couldn't help the chill that went throughout your body, especially seeing as your spouse was going to be right there beside you. "Sebastian." You said.
Although he didn't look at you on account of looking down at the ground, his brows furrowed in thought. He at least hummed in acknowledgment of his name. "What are you thinking?" You continued.
"This is dangerous."
You scoffed, that was putting it mildly. "No kidding, but...I'm worried about you. The quickest way back to our farm is past your family's home and-"
Although you didn't continue with your sentence, Sebastion understood what you meant. You were afraid for him, you were afraid for his family and the potential happening that they were...not human anymore. You didn't wish that type of pain upon anyone, especially your husband. And if the both of you needed to take a longer, more dangerous route to hopefully keep his sanity safe. You were willing to make that sacrifice.
Eventually, Sebastion sighed. "I'm fine," He said before fully turning to you. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. "Right now? You're my most important family, so long as you're safe? I'll live, I'll be okay."
"That's not what I meant-"
"You two," The wizard interjected gruffly. "The night wears on, it grows more dangerous by the minute and I need to try and secure as many more areas as I can. You must leave."
You both nodded in his direction before you looked back at Sebastion. "Ready?"
"No," He dryly chuckled before his hand rested on his weapon. "But, I have your back."
"Good luck you two, I'll make sure to check back in with you both in a few days."
When the wizard disappeared, so did the rune that was on the exit of the cave. Allowing you and Sebastion to quietly tiptoe out of the cave and...out into the silent night.
And by Yoba's name, it was eerie. You wanted to suspect that the Adventurer's Guild would be hustling and bustling by now, maybe Marlon would be attempting to gather as many weapons in a bid for them to be readily available for anyone who would need them. Maybe he'd be trying to make sure Gil was safe but...as you slapped a hand over your mouth to withhold a gasp, you saw the blood splatters on the ground.
Had he...
Sebastion came up behind you to gently shield your eyes away from the sight, gently urging you to keep walking. "C'mon," He whispered as the two of you made your way to the steps where the blood splatters continued to grow in frequency as well as the amount of blood that was shed until...you started to spot oddities with the blood.
On the side, there was purple blood, the stench was terrible. Like cow dung mixed with charcoal. A little further up near the curve of the path next to the bridge that lead over the small stream was a weapon, Marlon's sword no doubt, before more blood splotches started to appear again only...slowly but surely, they morphed into a more purplish color- "Hide," You whisper-yelled as you dragged Sebastion into some bushes the second you heard a deep clicking from up ahead.
Quickly the two of you crouched down, you took up the task of just barely peeking out from behind the bushes to get a good look of what was making the sound until...you saw it.
Easily, it stood as tall as a fully grown Pepper Rex and it walked on four legs like one too.
Its entire form was the shade of a raven's feather and it hulked with muscle lurking underneath its seemingly armored skin. Yet a peculiar detail to note was its lack of a mouth before your eyes trailed down to its paws where claws as long as your forearm lay, bloodied and some even having remnants of skin still stuck to the tips of them.
But...when you looked back at the face of the stalking creature.
Then you noticed the scar over one of its glowing purple eyes.
'Marlon...' You thought as your eyes started to brim with tears.
But the creature- or...Marlon didn't stay around for very long. He only looked side to side with a hiss before it stalked onwards, its thudding footsteps slowly fading away.
You and Sebastion waited a few more minutes until you finally decided it was safe enough to keep moving. Your hearts pounded in your chests as you made your way across the small bridge, each squeaky step setting off an alarm bell within you that screamed out that you were going to get caught any second. But, thankfully, the next long stretch of road was where Robin's home was.
Maybe- "Hey," Sebastion whispered before he pulled you to the side, around a corner where you both were decently hidden from sight.
"Should we stop by my mom's house? Maybe-"
"Of course," You didn't have to be convinced to see inside your in-laws house. Though, for whatever reason Sebastion wanted to, you yourself just wanted to check up on his parents and his half-sister. If everything hadn't gone to complete shit yet then...they'd still be alive and you could take them with the both of you and let them live on your farm.
"We'll need to be careful though." You sighed as your mind flashed back to Marlon, taking out your weapon.
"Y/N, they haven't-"
Your eyes narrowed. "I thought that way too, with Marlon." Sebastion huffed. "I'm keeping the weapon out," You pressed before you resumed taking the lead, your weapon out in front of you as the two of you lightly jogged until you were at Robin's house where...everything seemed to be fine.
Aside from the lights being out that is.
"Maybe they're sleeping?" You said, hopefully.
"We can go in through the garage." Without another word, your husband crouched down and tried to gently open the garage, the harsh squeaking making him and you freeze in your places for a second before he continued a little more until it was high enough for the both of you to squeeze under. But, once the two of you were in you slowly opened the door to the inside of the house.
Still, it was so eerily quiet...like death was waiting just around the corner.
"Get some food from the kitchen, I'll watch-"
"I'm fine," Sebastion said, gesturing to the sword on his hip. "I'll see if there's anything just...please, make sure my mom and sister are okay. Wake them up, anything."
You nodded your head before you walked off and looked around the house.
Your first stop was Sebastion's old room. You slowly creaked open the door and all you saw was nothing, nothing but Sebastion's old things and the smell of growing dust in the air.
So, you turned your attention to upstairs.
All before you stopped the second you heard dripping sounds upon the wooden floor. Your breath caught in your throat and your mouth went dry the second your mind immediately flipped back to Marlon and his monster-turned state, if it could happen to him then...it was obvious it could happen to anyone. But, for the sake of your husband? You prayed to whatever god was listening to you at this moment that his family hadn't experienced a similar fate.
Yet as you followed the noise all the way until you reached the end of the hallway, where you could see Robin and Demetrius' door slightly ajar. You tried to quietly tiptoe your way to the door before your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. An organ hung from the top of the door, the dripping noise being the- the blood...a gorey trail of flesh, blood, and even more intestines trailed all the way to the bed where...there Robin and Demetrius' bodies lay as a monster feasted upon whatever was still left inside of their cracked open stomachs.
What do you tell Sebastion?
Do you even tell him at all?
He couldn't know about this...you saw it in his eyes, the worry and concern he had for his sister and mother.
He'd be beyond heartbroken and you didn't think you had the strength to tell him, not right now when...maybe, j-just maybe you were seeing things. And you, oh so desperately, tried to convince yourself that you didn't see Robin and Demetrius' crops as you slowly continued to back up until you were in the kitchen once more where Sebastion was currently putting different canned foods in a backpack he must've taken out from his room.
"Did you see anything?"
You immediately tried to wash off the horror on your face. "N-Nothing," You stammered. "Just...nothing, it was dark."
As Sebastion slung the backpack over his shoulders, his brow quirked up a little. "Are you sure? You look like you saw something, you can tell me."
You shook your head again, placing your hands on his arms before you gently leaned your forehead into his chest. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you shook your head. "No...I-I'm fine, I promise. I'm just still- I'm still thinking about e-earlier, M-Marlon and all."
"Oh," He gently rubbed his hand in a circle on your back. "Everything's going to be fine." He said. "We'll always come out on top, okay?"
Although you nodded your head to try and get him to follow you out of the house quicker, you couldn't help but doubt him just a little.
Robin and Demetrius were gone and his sister was turned.
You don't think that image would ever leave your head, those familiar traits of Maru still present despite her warped form. Like how Maru's form still had traces of that familiar purple undershirt she'd wear over her overalls or how there seemed to be cracked pieces of glass on her face, illuminated by the faint light of the moon.
However...one day you'd gain the courage to tell your husband what you really saw, for as you slowly approached the end of the path that led onto the farm.
Your only focus was making sure the two of you survived from now on.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Sam : "Pack Starter"
How did the apocalypse start?
A seemingly simple and straightforward question. But in truth? Depending on the person at least, it was rather broad and filled with so many possibilities, all depending on where you were personally from the start.
For some? They may have not first noticed that anything was amiss. Perhaps they were out in the woods taking a hike or maybe at home sleeping, looking at a movie rather than trying to watch the news! It would be a normal day or not until all they saw was...carnage.
Others, their start may have been more brutal. Being out in the city or in a place where a lot of people gathered was a rather "in your face" start to the end of the world. People would be screaming in terror as they ran for their lives, trampling happening at every turn as everyone would quickly turn to making sure they stayed alive and worried about other people last.
Perhaps some would take the new world and quickly decide on doing the essentials.
Rushing for weapon stores and grabbing anything that they could.
Food.
Maybe even to see their families.
All valid but...completely unlike how your introduction to the end of the world was for the apocalypse came to you last. It was peaceful in Pelican Town, about a few hours away from the nearest city! Nothing extreme happened here unless you wanted to count your trips to the Mines, the Skull Cavern, or even Louis and Marnie's not-too-secret relationship.
Of course, that was until tonight happened.
Where you were rushing door to door with Marlon after he woke you up by pounding on your front door and screaming to get up and grab your weapon.
You didn't need to be told the exact details to know that it was bad.
Despite your groggy, freshly awoken state. You made the immediate moves to barricade and secure your farm from whatever threat made Marlon's hair turn grayer than gray, but...when you had spotted one of the monsters outside of your farm. Your memory of your commission flashed back to you, of what you were supposed to do but the monster was as elusive as a slippery fish. The creature seemed to size you up and down almost, all before it slipped away and rushed to terrorize someone else.
"Fuck," You had whispered after locking the last barn door before your legs carried you back to your home to see if your husband, Sam had waken up yet. "Sam!" You cried out as you slammed the door open, expecting him to still be deeply asleep in your bed, ready to be woken up by you until...he wasn't.
Panic immediately filled your being as a cold sweat broke out on your forehead.
He was just here.
The both of you were cuddled up beside one another until you got up to open the door.
"Sam?" You went to another part of the house, upstairs this time. "Sam!? Sam! Where are you!?" You cried out. As you rushed all around the house like a headless chicken, you felt like a madperson. You were cursing at yourself, you should've checked on him first before anything else! Yet as you tried to slow yourself down and think, consider the options of where he may have gone, your mouth became dry inside of your mouth as you thought of the one place you knew he'd most likely immediately go the second anything went wrong in this town.
Home.
And with your answer, you took the extra few minutes to shuffle into clothes more suited for running rather than your bedtime clothes before you dashed in the direction of town. And when you arrived...the sight of multiple fires and the scent of ash filled your senses as you looked around.
Monsters that resembled four-legged versions of shadow people roamed the cobblestone streets. Howling in triumph as some carried bodies within their large jaws whilst others tried to scratch and claw their way into homes that seemed to be locked and barricaded securely. However, as you quickly crouched behind a bush, a creature stomped its way by.
You got the faintest peek at its claws.
Like daggers, you thought. Sharp enough to cut straight through a tree without even breaking a sweat. And as your eyes continued to tail the creature, it walked through fire without even seeming to let out a noise resembling pain.
The lava katana that you tightly gripped within your palm.
You couldn't help the slight feeling of fear that began to grip you at the thought that a powerful weapon like yours couldn't even think to burn it at the very least.
But, you shook the thought from your head as you pressed forward, sneaking down the same path you would've usually taken to get to Sam's house until you heard a shrill scream, causing you to pick up the pace every so slightly until...your stomach lurched at the sight of blood and innards.
Blood flooded the once heavenly green grass and intestines littered the streets, walls of homes and dangled from the tops of fences. Effectively turning the town into hell on earth until you finally reached the street Sam's home was on, causing you to stand up straight and- "Sam!" You screamed before you could think when you saw him kneeling, his body shaking ever so slightly here and there until you quickly slowed down when...
When you saw Jodi, her ribcage was exposed and cracked open as she was feasted upon a smaller version of the monsters you saw earlier.
Yet...you recognized that yellow and red striped shirt- or at least, the tatters of it that hung off from the creature. Its smaller yet nonetheless sharp claws bloodied as the body of Kent lied not too far away from his wife's.
"S-Sam..." You said gently, almost a whisper as you both tried to get to him first as well as not disturb the monster from its meal. "Honey, l-let's go. Please."
"Vincent..." Those were the first words he uttered, his voice shaky and clearly holding back a sob. "Vincent." He repeated.
This time, the creature looked up with a tilt of its head and a strange insect-like chitter. All before it slowly moved away from its meal and started to stalk towards Sam.
You readied your weapon, your eyes narrowing as you recognized that hunter-like crouch from similar monsters, both in the Mines and the Skull Cavern.
"B-Buddy?" Sam said, hopefully. "Vincent, we can fix this. Y-Y/N can help fix you, they know a lot of things! They can help, we can bring Mom and Dad-" Before you knew it, the monster launched itself towards Sam with a high-pitched snarl, causing you to spring into action and shove Sam aside before you swung your sword.
"NO!" You heard Sam scream from the top of his lungs, your eyes wide and your sword dripping with black blood as the monster hung off the end of your sword for a moment before...it fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
Still.
Dead.
"S-Sam." You said once the shock started to wash off from you. "Honey, that-"
Sam answered with a sharp inhale as you could've sworn his normally soft blue eyes turned red when he glared at you, tears streaming down his face before he looked back at the creature. You were about to crouch down and try to comfort your husband, make him see where you were coming from and your reason for doing what you did until...you heard snarls from the distance.
You'd have to put your emotions to the side for a little while longer.
Sam, he was allowed to be upset at you for as long as he needed to until he understood.
And until you both got out of this situation alive.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Shane: "Supplies"
It was a hot summer's day today. The sun was beaming down upon you and the cicadas were screaming out for water like they've never had before, but while you would have welcomed the arrival of summer in the past. Nowadays? You couldn't help the sour taste it left inside of your mouth! It was harder to grow stuff, crops were dead and there was no longer a place to readily buy season appropriate seeds.
You had to make weekly rounds back to the old supplies store just to try and keep your family of three, plus the pets alive and that alone was a trip!
The monsters that had arrived a little over a year ago were vicious, hungry creatures that spared no mercy whether or not you were a child or an adult.
Too many times did you toss and turn in your sleep at night when you remembered the scratched up and limbless body of Vincent outside of Sam's house on the night everything started, how he cried and begged for his brother to wake up despite...well...everything.
Since then, you haven't seen Sam in a while.
Or anyone else for that matter.
The town was quiet as there was nothing but abandoned buildings and homes. Everyone had already left a while ago, hoping to escape the monsters and their terror but you- well, your spouse insisted on staying, stating that the two of you had a lot to live for here and that there was no point in moving away from everything you had worked so hard for! And to a certain extent? You agreed with him, your farm and animals provided more than enough food for the both of you.
There was still plenty of supplies to be had so long as you knew where to look and every now and again? When you went to the Mines, you were able to find lost items that helped in fortifying the area around your farm just a little bit more from the creatures!
But then again-
"Y/N," A voice chirped from below. "It's hot."
"It really is, isn't it?" You agreed with a sigh before you took off your sun hat and handed it to Jas. "Maybe this will cool you down? Sorry I don't have anything better Jas," You smiled sheepishly, the little girl only smiling gratefully in return as she proceeded to put on the hat that was far too big for her then.
Then again...Jas was still here.
Marnie died at the beginning of the attack upon the town. When you had defeated the monster, Shane had rushed into the farmstead and found Jas hugging her stuffed animal in the corner crying and wondering where Marnie was, from what he told you. And although the little girl had her moments of sadness...all things considered, she was taking things well.
Her new reality with monsters and not being able to go outside as she pleased anymore, at least, beyond the boundaries of your farm, she was taking it well.
"Alright Jas, c'mon." You crouched down to allow the girl to climb onto your back before you carried her the rest of the way to Pierre's shop. It was both a way of making sure she didn't get tired as well as a way that...if something was here, you'd be able to run as fast as possible without worrying whether or not she was keeping up. But, thankfully, the two of you reached Pierre's abandoned shop without too much of an issue, causing you both to go in through the broken window you've both been using for a while now before you rummaged around the shop.
Although it was easy to take as much as you could from the store and haul it all the way back home, safely avoiding multiple trips off the farm.
You thought it would be good for Jas, now that Vincent was no longer around due to...reasons. It was good for her to get off the farm once in a while with supervision. Not to mention, after you finished your "shopping", the two of you made it a routine to go the beach if you could! Anything to hopefully keep Jas' childhood as intact as it possibly could be.
"What do you want to eat tonight?" You asked after letting out a frustrated sigh after seeing the summer seeds in the back of Pierre's supplies were all crushed.
"Pizza!"
Did you still have tomato seeds? You were growing some in your greenhouse so there wasn't too much of a fear of running out of the produce anytime soon but...
"Alright," You eventually caved in after deeming it not too much of a waste of resources to make the item.
"I think...I think pizza would also make Uncle Shane happy too."
You sucked in your bottom lip at the mention of your husband. Before everything went to hell, you and him were dating, the two of you even discussed getting married at one point! Shane was getting help for his alcohol addiction and was going to therapy regularly! Everything seemed to be going nowhere but up for him and you couldn't be happier, yet...as of lately? He had been in a stump.
There was no more therapy.
No more avenues to find a healthy substitute for drinking.
You'd never seen someone crave the taste of a beer like Shane had and it was only your luck that you had a few forgotten cans in your cellar. It was keeping him sane for now but, you worried for him. You'd have to figure something out quick, for all his hard work to be crushed just because the world decided to end at an inopportune moment...not only would it crush you, you knew deep down that it would silently crush Shane as well.
Yet, you tried shooing those thoughts away from your head as you zipped up your backpack and waved your hand for Jas to follow you. "Good idea Jas," You smiled. "I'll make you and Uncle Shane the best pizza ever!"
.
.
.
You were glad that Jas had gotten distracted by a mother hen and her chicks when the pair of you arrived back to the farm.
You planned to call her back inside when dinner was ready.
But...as you gently closed the front door behind you, your eyes trailing over the path of destruction inside your house. The worse immediately came to mind.
A monster attack possibly, but...there would've been blood and most smashed items rather than just bottles.
Shane wasn't exactly the type to leave your home a mess, he was good at cleaning to the point you joked about him being better at cleaning than yourself!
So, as you flicked on the lights downstairs. There was only one possible answer- "Where is it? Where'd they put 'em?" You could hear Shane mumbling as he searched the corners, nooks, and crannies of the cellar.
The scent of alcohol was heavy in the air as the spilled contents from the kegs were all over the ground. Shane's speech was slurred and as he moved around, not even taking the time to notice your presence, he more so limped like a shot dog than walked! You tried to cool your simmering rage, biting your lip and clenching your fists as you wanted to scream every possible curse word in the book at him.
He destroyed weeks' worth of supplies.
Ruined the house.
Ruined your hard work in this cellar...
All for a drink.
"Shane," You said.
No response.
"Shane." You said again as you slowly began to make your way to him.
Still, he didn't dare to give you a response. Not until you stormed the rest of the way to the man and slapped a hand on his shoulder to get him to pay attention to you. "Shane!" You screamed into his ear, your chest heaving up and down as tears brimmed your eye line."
"H-How could you?! Our- my hard work...everything, why-"
Shane grumbled as he half-hazardly pushed you away. "Where did you put it?"
"What?"
"The rest of the drinks, I need a beer."
"Shane, please." You begged as you followed him around the room, both trying to control your surging temper as well as to get his attention. "Fucking goddamn listen to me!" You roared, your hand grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to turn around.
"Why, fucking goddamn tell me why you did all this!?"
"I need a drink." He repeated, slower than last time.
"You already tore into my kegs!? How much more do you need?!"
He didn't respond, going back to ignoring you but instead opting to go upstairs.
It seems that the end of the world had taken more from you in this very moment than anything else had in your entire life. Supplies, as well as a partner you thought you'd call your husband one day.
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moonlightspencie · 5 months
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rewatched the update video, read some posts from both people who like and dislike the update, and just finished charlie’s (mo1stcr1tikal) video about watcher. here are my complete thoughts:
Video Execution
i appreciate that they seem to have consulted with a PR person, or at the very least really sat down and thought through their approach with the video.
they didn’t try to boo-hoo themselves.
they used a lot of positive “you language” for the fans (which i very much appreciate as a media and communication person myself)
they took accountability for their mistakes, and actually uttered the word “sorry”. low bar, i know, but many apology videos still somehow slip under the bar.
they very clearly put the focus on ryan and shane in the video. it sucks a bit that they probably felt they had to since much of that was probably due to the negative comments directed at steven, but it WAS a smart move. fans feel most betrayed by the two the majority connect with the most.
it. wasn’t. overproduced. (again, low bar, but it is what it is).
overall thoughts on execution? it was smart. they look uncomfortable, and whether that’s intentional or their true feelings, regardless of why they look so uncomfy, it makes it easier to watch. they don’t look pissed or smug. they look embarrassed. which, in an apology video, is a good thing. sorry to say
The Solution
i think they came up with the best alternative they could after royally fucking up with the majority of their fans.
the patreon solution… mixed feelings. i understand they don’t want to just go forward with one or the other: the patreon or the streamer. however, as ive seen some patrons say, it doesn’t make all that much sense to have both logistically. i think it’s only set up this way because they can’t go back entirely on watcher.tv now. good on them for giving a bit of a fix with the codes being sent to patrons.
i was still lost on how they weren’t “advertiser friendly”, and that’s where charlie’s video came in to affirm my suspicions. go watch his video for more information, but long story short: watcher is a GOLD MINE for advertisers. huge and loyal audience, engaging ads that make the viewer want to watch the ad, and an ever-growing channel.
on the back of the last point: how on earth were they struggling with money to begin with? it simply doesn’t make any sense. they had so many revenue streams & again, DO get sponsors and appear to be incredibly brand-friendly.
trust is still lost with most fans, and that will be hard as hell to regain. the ex-buzzfeed three-guys-on-a-couch model didn’t even work when the try guys were fucked over by their friend and brand trust was lost a little bit. and this loss of brand trust is fully on all three dudes on the couch this time
overall thoughts on the solution? it’s good for what they can do now that they obviously cannot just fully backtrack. that would arguably be a worse idea than the original idea for the streaming service itself. i think this would have worked much better and they would have retained integrity if they had done this from the beginning, and/or had a slow rollout instead of jumpscaring us like that. ghost files is supposed to spook us, not surprise paywalls.
Final Thoughts
a ton of trust was lost. the parasocial relationship that specifically shane and ryan fans had with them, that was the REASON for so much of the loyalty, is fractured, and for many it will never be the same as it was. i understand their fuck up when it came to the announcement was likely just them needing more self-awareness and a professional to guide them through it, but i still question how it got to that point where they felt like their fans would enjoy this to begin with. not to mention, again, how were they not making enough? why not try other options first?
i hope sincerely that watcher truly learns from this. that they remember their business isn’t about money or ambition (in a positive or negative way), but is built on the backs of their fans’ loyalty. without that fan loyalty, buzzfeed unsolved would have been the only thing we knew ryan and shane for. we wouldn’t have followed them to a new channel if we didn’t care about them and their work to certain degree.
it was a good apology video. genuinely. i’m glad they didn’t jump into it with a bandaid solution. i just wish they had the foresight to know their fans well enough to understand that there is NO way this would be well received by the majority. and there’s no going back on that now, obviously. what’s past is past. i hope moving forward that they gain a little self-awareness and that they gain some FAN-awareness. until/unless they start working on television and movies, they have to keep their fans happy. we are the consumer, not the employee, and it feels like they started somehow blurring those lines with the original video they posted. it felt like one of the corporate ‘training’ videos for my job when we start using a new system.
fans are important in online spaces, particularly. we provide free advertising for our favorite bloggers/youtubers/etc., and willingly give up money to support them through various streams (in watcher’s case: patreon, merch, live shows). you cannot exist as a creator online and think that you don’t need to keep your fans happy when it is your source of income. it’s simply how being a successful internet personality works, for better or worse.
good job to the watcher boys on how they went about the apology/fix. i hope things go better from here on out.
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Shame on a plate
Happy St. Patrick's Day, slowpokes!
Tumblr media
When -- several minutes after Stuck in a damn bed. , after Shane blew up, and you found out that not only Dale, but Maggie saw, too.
What -- Sophia's still missing, Daryl and Carl have one more day in the house on bed rest, and you're dealing with the aftermath of your big brother Shane's actions in the previous chapter and the fact that others saw. The biggest thing you feel is shame.
Relationships -- Found family you and the gang! Lol, always a slow burn Daryl x Reader, there's also some platonic Glenn, brotherly Rick, and Maggie gets protective her new friend (you), and Papa Dale is there
Perspective -- 2nd You, 3rd Daryl
Pronouns -- none
TWs -- other than the hideous screenshot above, there's some language and discussion of abusive patterns and behaviors
How long is it? -- around 4,000 words
Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here
In this chapter, Reader is struggling with shame, guilt and confusion over how Shane treated them at the end of the previous chapter.
Remember, being hurt by a loved one is not okay. If they are hurting you, they are doing something bad to you. Abuse is not earned or deserved. You are worthy of being safe and unhurt.
For help getting safe, you can call the Domestic Violence Hotline (USA) at 800-799-7233, chat online, or text START to 88788.
-------------------------
“No, nothin’ like it before, ever.”
Her fingers tap tap tapped against the book in her hands. “I don’t like it. Daddy’s been uncomfortable around him, then I see this happen.”
You twisted your mouth. “It was an argument between siblings.”
“If it was an argument, then why didn’t I see you arguin’ back?”
Stupid, stupid idiot. It kept playing in your head, that refrain. It had a different spin than it did at first. See, at first, your brain repeated it because you’d given yourself fault for what happened, how Shane just…you don’t know what happened. But he behaved very badly.
But then, the refrain kept repeating over and over because you didn’t walk away or fight back when Shane started hurti acting like he did.
You did nothing.
It was the one thing you were not supposed to do. The thing Shane and your Mama always warned you never to do when things got scary. The thing Shane had literally just gotten done practicing with you so that you’d know even more than you already know about how and when to fight back.
All that effort and still, you froze.
Stupid, stupid idiot. You stupid, stupid idiot.
You had to clear your throat. “Beth didn’t see, too, right? Just you?” you hushed. The girl was already timid and uneasy about your group, If she saw what happened, it was the nail in the coffin if you couldn’t fix this.
“No, I was the only one by the window.”
“So he wasn’t too loud, then.” Which meant only Margaret and Dale knew. Your shoulders felt lighter.
“Y/N,” Maggie said to you. “You seem more concerned with others not seein’ what went on.”
“Well, yeah, I’m worried they’d overreact.”
She tilted her chin up and placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, is that what I’m doing? Was my comin’ to check on you an overreaction?”
“No, no, not at all!” you quickly apologized. “Not at all! I’m, I’m happy you care enough.”
“You’re a good person and you’re my friend, which is why I don’t want to tiptoe around this. What your brother just did was bad. You know that was abusive, right?”
Maybe scoffing at her heartfelt, caring statement wasn’t your best idea, but 'abusive' was such a strong word…right? “He’s my brother, and it was a one-off, I done told you.”
“I’m not sure I believe it when you say that,” she next had the audacity to claim. “You haven’t even been makin’ eye contact with me.”
Oh, you want eye contact? I’ll give you eye contact, bitch.
Your inner tea kettle was shrieking to be taken off the burner, and you could not have cared less. “You callin’ me a liar? Calling my brother an abuser? Rich words from someone I’ve barely known two weeks!”
Before any more was said, Dale inserted himself into the conversation, the thing he said he wouldn’t do. “If you want to keep your conversation private, I suggest not raising your voices.”
Maggie’s arms were crossed. She stared hard at you, but spoke calmly. “Sometimes when things are unhealthy, those looking in from the outside can see it better. And I know what I saw.”
“A sibling fight,” you whispered as gently as you could, feeling so heated. “You, you, y-you saw a sibling fight, those can get nasty.” She’s wrong, she’s wrong, she’s not, she’s not.
“You know what? I don’t have time for your pushback if you don’t have time to consider what somebody who’s concerned about you says, Y/N.”
More shame was added to your plate.
Her leaving shouldn’t have felt so awful, but it did. You covered your eyes and exhaled, as if that would help get rid of the worst of it. You then told God how much you hated this, immediately followed by the opposite, as you cursed yourself a little more, why not? You stupid, stupid idiot.
Not only did you disappoint (and insult) your new friend, but you worried it was another strike against your group. Lori and Carl need this place, it’s safe, it’s good, it’s — you stupid, stupid idiot!
But just like that, Maggie then called your name again as Dale was stepping toward you. You turned to see her facing you once more, no longer walking away.
“If this was a dating situation, what would you think about how he behaved, what he did?” she challenged.
As unfair as you thought the comparison was, the answer hit you in the face. Pun not intended, shit, um… at any rate, having Dale close by helped to ease you into the checkmate that Margaret just finished you with.
You hated your answer.
Because if you saw Shane behaving toward a romantic partner the same way he just behaved with you, you know exactly what you’d think and how you’d react. It wouldn’t be a gray situation, it would be black and white.
More shame for the plate. More guilt. More unease, more dread.
Eyes to the grass, you swallowed your pride. “I’d see it the way you see it.”
Maggie shifted her weight from the right to left, then back again, uncertain. “Will you tell Rick?”
You hesitated, too. After all, you’re an adult. You could be married with children at your age, you couldn’t just—“Tattle that Shane…got huffy, lost his cool?”
“Don’t oversimplify, kiddo, you’re smarter than that,” Dale muttered. He and Shane don’t get on (zero idea why, since Dale and you get on so well!) so this is just more bad press against your brother and more shame for your plate.
“But it’s, it’s not that dramatic, none of this has to be dramatic,” you insisted.
Dale answered again. “Then talking to Rick about it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Rick’s family,” Maggie agreed. “So, he’s seems like the best person to help.”
A child in a grown-up’s body is what you felt like. Helpless, naïve, clueless. You stupid, stupid idiot.
They were right, though, Rick could fix this, he could talk to Shane, figure out what that was. And even better — agreeing with Maggie and Dale would get them off your back! For real, what were they doing, an intervention? Because Shaney poked you a little, gave you a little push?
The words felt sinful, but you said them anyway.“I-I’ll, um, I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to Rick.” And, of course, you were then obligated because you despise dishonesty.
Maggie nodded, then put her thumbs in her pockets. Dale nodded and looked at the two of you, then all around. It was very uncomfortable.
It would be nice if instead of real life, this was a TV show or book, you remember thinking. The audience isn’t usually shown the awkward parts in TV or books, would be a waste of time.
“Y/N,” Maggie spoke, breaking the silence. “We have a raspberry thicket by the south-facing property line.” She pointed in the direction. “Completely overgrown. I’m gonna go back in, finish what I was doin’, but let’s go pick some together later, okay? I’ll come find you in a little while?” She smiled hopefully at you, with some pity thrown in.
Returning the smile, you hoped it made you look put-together and self-aware and confident instead of the shameful, idiotic mess you felt like. “That sounds delicious.”
The moment ended, and she went back toward the house. You heard the door open and clack shut again. A desk onto which you could slam you head would be nice, you remembered thinking.
Instead of a desk, though, Dale put a gentle hand on your shoulder.
He sighed. “Alright, troublemaker. Walk with me? We don’t have to talk, let’s enjoy the sunset awhile.”
Not two steps later, and he apologized for his timing in using the nickname that one month ago he’d christened you with. “And Y/N? What Shane did isn’t your fault.”
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Him
-------------------------
Today marks one week of being stuck in this bed. Day 7.
He’d failed, that’s it. A weak-ass pussy dipshit who’d failed, and was still stuck in a damned bed after a full week.
Tomorrow, Patricia said he’d be cleared to move out. Not that it mattered much, he still couldn’t do enough to be useful. Not that he wouldn’t; he couldn’t. He’d still be on bed rest.
But hey, at least he’d be able to walk to the woods to find a place to squat and shit by himself now, right? Not even too sarcastic, it would be a step up from feeling like a total invalid.
Carol and Lori were doing a special dinner and cleaning up for the family here to try and thank them for everything. Daryl would just…lay in his bed, he figured. Except, all three of those clucking hens that he wished would stop preening him, Patricia, Carol, and Y/N, kept offering to help him eat with everyone else like they was all some big, happy, family.
This time, it wasn’t that he couldn’t; he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to face them all, not yet, it was too much. He could only take a certain level of shame, and his plate was already full.
The saving grace this past week that stopped him from drowning in his shame was his not seeing the whole kit and kaboodle of them in one sitting. Rick had told him a little over a week ago how it was no problem if Daryl left. Just Daryl, he’s pretty sure nobody else got that little talk.
He’d chosen to stay because of Sophia and Y/N. Sophia needed finding. Still does.
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You
-------------------------
Carl is the kind of kid who’s double-digits, yet understands when his mother needs her baby again. Lori had snuggled with him on the bed, and both were sound asleep. Not even you knocking on the door or the door being opened/shut woke them.
Which must be why last night, Rick took the opportunity to bring up what Shane did, right there in the room.
It was a blessing that you didn’t end up having to do the hardest part, bringing it up, you suppose. Shane himself had done it for you. All you had to do was fill in the blanks.
“Said he lost control, acted a certain way,” Rick murmured. “What’d that look like?”
You didn’t want to describe it, it’d sound bad… “Shane didn’t say?”
“I’m interested in what you say.”
“Ah, you want to maintain ‘eyewitness sequeskra — eesh, that’s hard to pronounce. Se-quest-ra-tion?”
Rick did that raised brow squint thing he makes when he’s teasing, as if maybe he was about to call you ‘weirdo.’ But then, his expression faded back to serious and he spoke your name. “We both know he hasn’t been himself. What did that look like today?”
Casually, you told him about the way Shane had gotten intimidating. “You know how he’d talk when he needed to do ‘bad cop,’ it was, it was kinda like that.”
“Anything physical?”
Casually, you mentioned the jabs. “He was pokin’, like, with his pointer finger — and he’s strong, so.”
“Right there?” Rick asked, pointing to his sternum in mimic of how you’d gestured.
“Yeah.”
“Do you have a bruise?”
Your neck tightened.
Maggie had spotted it when you were berry picking. One had fallen down your shirt, so you’d pulled the fabric forward and down to retrieve it, and she (and you) saw the bruise forming. You stupid, stupid idiot.
It was fine, it wasn’t a big deal. Bruises happen.
Casually, you joked to Rick, “I get bruises from random shit all the time.”
He didn’t smile.
It actually lessened the shame, rather than adding more. You were grateful.
Continuing, he questioned, “He told me about that collarbone grab, and how he went like this?” And when he motioned with his hand, slowly pretending to clap it against the side of your head, you felt your cheeks heat.
“Once.” The insult he’d smacked you with at the same time hurt more, to be honest. Which…made it all click that what Shane did wasn’t as small a deal as you’d been thinking. Mouth shut, you licked your teeth and stared into space. “Did it to himself first, way more than once.”
Rick watched his wife and son sleeping on the bed and asked nothing more for a few minutes.
You picked at the string that stuck out of your arm wrap, feeling stupid, stupid, stupid, shameful, stupid. Per usual, then you missed your mom—and out of nowhere got swept by that flash flood of resentment toward Rick again.
Shane and you had left your mother alone to scope out the latest at the hospital, to figure out how to get Rick safely out without him decompensating. While you two were gone, what happened happened. Sometimes, you assign blame to Rick for it, as if comatose Rick was the reason your ma got killed. Sometimes, you assign her dying to Shane’s change in character, as if that made it better, gave it an excuse.
Grief gets sticky like that.
“Is that all, or is there any more?”
“He went like this,” you mumbled, and grabbed the neck of your shirt like Shane had. “That’s it, all the dirt. Happy?”
“Y/N.”
“…Sorry.”
“I know this wasn’t easy. Thank you,” he told you, putting his arm on your shoulder. You didn’t want it there, so you moved away. Rick was patient, not reacting a bit.
That was last night. This morning felt pretty normal when you woke up. Carol had shared your tent again. Shane was off in his, so you didn’t see him.
Coffee in hand, you were in in the middle of coaxing one of the pullets to waddle toward you by holding out dandelion leaves when Glenn came to see you. You’d figured he wanted to feed the baby chickens, too, or, even better, that there was good news about Maggie. (She likes him!, she told you herself the other day. She just isn’t telling, you know, Glenn himself just yet.)
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“Y/N? How are you?”
“I’m warmed up good with my coffee, how about you? Sleep well?” You kept your smile in when you asked, “Talk to Maggie today?”
“Yeah, yeah, I slept fine, yeah, but, um—you’re like, okay, though?”
A flutter of dread. “Glenn, what’s up?”
“What did Shane do to you yesterday? I heard him—”
“—What did you hear, and from whom?” reverberated from the back of your throat as if it were a growl.
“Dude, chill. I’m trying to see if you’re okay.”
The way you tried to keep your voice calm ended up sounding snotty and insincere. Most likely because you were feeling very insincere. How many people saw or heard about what happened? Naked, you felt so naked and exposed! “Where. Did. You. Hear about it?”
“I heard your brother talking to Rick.”
The twist in your gut eased. “Okay, um, um — what did he, w-what, um, what did he, what did he say?” And how did you hear, do they know you heard?”
“I had the headphones in, but the battery died on your mp3 while I was going to the bathroom—”
“—Daryl has the mp3,” you thought aloud.
“He let T-Dog borrow it, who let me borrow it. I-I ate something that didn’t agree with me, so…”
Oh my ffing — “Did you sanitize it when you were done?”
“Dabbed it with hand sanitizer, yeah. Oh, also, Shane asked me to ask you if he could borrow it once it was charged again.” Glenn scratched his neck. “I told him it was on really low battery.”
You swallowed.“So he did see you?”
“He and Rick saw me with the earbuds on and I acted surprised to see them.Shane asked if he could borrow it, I told him it needed to be charged, um, hey, I can see it in your face that you’re worried, please don’t be! Shane believed me,” he assured you. “Trust me, he doesn’t know I heard him. I don’t lie, Y/N, you know that.”
“I do,” you admitted, nodding.
“Anyway, I was walking back from the woods and heard Shane and Rick talking. I figured it was about Sophia, but when I overheard something Shane said, I stopped and listened.” Glenn bent his head down and shuffled his feet. “He said that he messed up, like, snapped. Told Rick that he needed to talk to you and be on your side with whatever you told him. Y/N, he said that he,” your friend lowered to a whisper, “hurt you? Like literally ‘hurt’ you, like, did he hit you?”
You smiled to put him at ease, holding up your hands. “He poked me a little and clapped an ear, weren’t hardly no thing.” Y/N, you stupid, stupid, idiot.
It was probably good that he looked so disappointed and cautious, even if it didn’t feel good to see it in his eyes at the time. “Y/N, don’t…joke about this stuff,” he began. “Why would Shane would have gone to Rick in private if it wasn’t serious?”
“’Cause he’s a drama-king.” You made it sound almost like you were patronizing Glenn, the way you said it.
“No. No, this isn’t ‘no thing,’ you literally just confessed he did hit you — does Rick know about that, too? Shane mentioned something about a collarbone, grabbing your shirt, and shoving you, which is also not ‘no thing.’”
As he was speaking, you’d felt more and more defensive and naked and ashamed. You even had to beat down the urge you had to grab his shirt and shove him back, and prove it wasn’t a big deal!
Then, you considered how he’d take it. The look on his face, at a friend doing that to him. How you’d feel about yourself if you did that. How you’d feel if you saw somebody else do that to him or somebody else. A whole lot of rapid thoughts in the several moments where you figured out a way to respond.
The explanation you made was something you’d tried on everyone so far. “We’re siblings. Stuff like that is normal — did you never see your sisters go at it?”
“No, it’s not! And if it is, it shouldn’t be! Dude, if you saw me,” he countered, speaking louder than you’d heard him make since he cried that the bodies of those at the quarry camp weren’t going to be burned with the walkers. “Doing whatever Shane did with you to one of my younger sisters, what would you think of me? How would you react?”
Glenn’s strong emotional response wasn’t expected, so you stood there, dumb. And you knew exactly how you’d react if you saw him doing to his sisters what Shane did.
And yet, you’re still unsure if everyone else is overreacting because it sounded bad or because it actually was.
Either way, Glenn’s question raised your white flag for you. You surrendered, bowing you head in shame and covering your face with your free hand.
“Glenn, there are three other people who know. Four, if you count Shane.” With your injured arm still secured by the upper arm to your torso, you pointed at him. “Dale, Maggie, and Rick know. Which means already there are three others who know. Now, Glenn, don’t go spreadin’ this business any further, hear?”
You didn’t sound half as intimidating as the words may look, mostly you sounded defeated. Ashamed. “Talk to any one of them, talk to me, but do not breathe a word to, to anybody else or around anybody else.”
This is the part where you started to get a little weepy. “And Lori, she don’t need to know about this right now, she don’t need the stress, and not a word around my Carl, oh my gosh, not him.” This is the part where you got a little beg-gy. “Please. It, it ain’t a bad secret because those that need to know, know. Okay?”
The gavel was brought down when he said, “The way you’re scared of the others finding out makes it seem like a bad one.” He was right. Is right.
He then clasped his hands together. “Listen: I wasn’t about to tell anyone else, since Rick knows. Shane told him himself, dude, and I trust Rick. But, if it was a different case,” he went on, and shook his head as if he was telling you that all bets would be off. “Y/N, remember when Ed was around? How that felt? Dude, you literally threw yourself on him when you saw him hurt Carol.”
The comparison of your brother to Ed Peletier stung and wasn’t fair. And did Glenn forget what Shane did to Ed, to? “Glenn, that ain’t equivalent by any stretch.”
“Maybe not,” he accepted. “But just because it could be worse doesn’t make it not bad. Stuff like this starts small.”
“I know,” you whispered.
You raised the white flag higher, half with the plea that this would be over faster if you did. Lord above, you felt so small, stupid, and defenseless. “You’re right,” you ceded, your gaze reaching no higher than Glenn’s belly. “You’re right. And like you said, it’s, it’s b-bein’ handled, Rick’s got it.” Ugh, stress stutter. “And Shane did a much better job than me when he saw what Ed did, don’t leave out that part.”
“He did. That almost worries me more. Just — if anything like this happens again, or if it starts to feel the same, like — ” He raised his hands. “You’re my best friend. That means I’m on your team. Okay? Even if you end up hating me for it.” He then started to leave, give you some space. “We’re on the same search team today, too. Meet by the mailbox by 9:00, it’s in like 40 minutes.”
“Hey, wait,” you called, not wanting to look him in the eye yet but doing it anyway. And you forced the words out because they were true. “Th-thank you.”
He breathed out heavily and made an awkward (but real) smile.“I love you, dude.”
“I love you, too, man. You’re my best friend.”
The uncomfortable, clumsy encounter with Glenn left you feeling more ashamed than you already were. With Daryl, that day where you’d felt as if your very soul had been stripped bare, the vulnerability hadn’t felt shameful afterward. What you’d felt was so close, unbearably close, it was strange.
But yesterday evening and this morning, the vulnerability sucked, dude. And you’d been stuck in a cycle of shame, anger, and feeling stupid, but without those feelings going away once the truth let out.
The good thing was, the target of your anger began to change during the conversation with Glenn. You weren’t thinking stupid, stupid idiot about yourself anymore, no, it became directed at Shane. The one whose blowing up made this mess. Your view of the mess also became clearer. What happened wasn’t just one sibling bullying a little on the other and it getting out-of-hand it was…it wasn’t something to brush aside, you’ll say that. And you’re scared, you’ll say that, too.
But what you were supposed to do with all of it, that still wasn’t clear.
Still isn’t. Because sooner than later, Shane will know about the baby. Sooner rather than later, the situation with Sophia will end. Sooner rather than later, that little power struggle you’re seeing between him and Rick will come to a head.
Nope. You have no idea what to do and all you feel is shame about it.
Speaking of, Daryl’s been feeling ashamed, too, it’s kinda obvious when you look and talk to the guy. He thinks that because he’s bedbound, he’s useless. Might as well pop in before you go on the search this morning, you’ve got like 15 minutes until then.
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Him
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“Last day in this fine establishment, enjoy it while you can,” Y/N joked.
Yeah, so, he wasn’t in a joking mood and didn’t get why Y/N would be, either. An entire week in this ‘establishment’ was damned shameful. All because he stole (worse, Y/N had told him more than once not to do it) borrowed a horse that got spooked. A dumbass slip and fall. Twice.
If Sophia wasn’t found, it was on his hands.
“Did Carol convince you to come to dinner, yet? Or are you still feelin’ too poorly?”
“Just stop.” He wanted to be left alone, was that so fucking complicated?
And he wanted out of this fucking bed, out of this room, out of this house, off this shit farm, and away from this whole gaggle of dumb fucks.
He wanted Merle back. He wanted Uncle Jesse back.
…He just wanted Sophia back. He'd even prayed about it.
“Sorry, little man, not now. Yeah, nah, he needs some privacy and quiet,” Daryl then heard from out in the hallway.
The door was already closed. He didn’t even hear it shut.
“No, his head is still okay, Carl, his cognition is prolly better than the two of us put together. The man’s healin’ well, thanks be to God,” Y/N cheerfully chirped like a songbird. "Wanna visit the baby chicks again?"
More shame slithered on over, hissing at him for how he’d been a dick to Y/N, of all people.
Daryl tried to rub his chest to get rid of the tugging feeling in Y/N’s direction while trying to shut up the voice in his head that was screaming for a goddamn cigarette so he could smoke and dig the lit end into his skin.
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You
-------------------------
So, that was a bust. Daryl kinda snapped at you. It sucked. Felt really awful, not gonna lie. First your brother, now the mangy hick.
Come to think of it, it's actually more on brand for Daryl to have done that, given you literally just referred to him as ‘mangy hick.’
Ugh, you wanna cry again. You wanna run back to Dale the way a little kid runs to their dad. Maybe this time you'd also run into a desk to slam your head against on the way?
Later would have to suffice for finding that desk, however, because now, there’s work to do.
“Aight, let’s roll. We’re headin’ south, looking around a small neighborhood. Tomorrow, Shane and Andrea will be hitting what we don’t cover,” T-Dog announces. “Ready to head out, y’all?”
“Head on back to your ma, okay?” you tell Carl, pecking a kiss on his head and patting your finger along the chick he's still carrying. Carl had walked you to the mailbox, it's his third and probably last ‘big trip’ of the day. He’s wearing Shane’s police baseball hat. “See you later, punk, I love you."
“Yeah, man, all set. Bye, Carl.” Glenn stands up from his crouched position by the mailbox where he was waiting.
You adjust the first aid kit in your backpack, then ease it on and snap the chest clip in place. “Ready, Teddy.”
T-Dog rubs his hands together. “Then let’s roll. See if we can’t bring Sophia back for this big dinner her mama’s got planned tonight.”
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amberjazmyn · 2 months
Text
make you feel my love 🫶💔🥹
pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader, lando norris x fem!reader, oscar piastri x fem!reader and charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary : through the lyrics of shane filan's "make you feel my love" we see four of the f1 grid (m. verstappen, l.norris, o.piastri and c.leclerc) loving their partner through everything and anything
warnings : tears, fluff, workplace harrassment due to gender, mentions of abuse, mentions of illness and dodgy google translations
a/n : this came out of nowhere lol, please enjoy! also bold italics is lyrics, italics is like flashbacks and everything else is the regular font. remember, don't forget to reblog and comment. you can also request one-shots as well!
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max verstappen:
when the rain is blowin' in your face and the whole world is on your case, i could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love.
today had been the worst day in the world for you and you wish you could understand why. first off, it was raining cats and dogs outside, so loud you personally thought your work building would collapse in on itself and it utterly terrified you. and two, it seemed as though your whole office building and everyone inside of it was on your case and trying to nit-pick at every little thing you did, whether that was in regards to you doing your job properly or just breathing, someone in your office had something to say about it and it almost made you want to scream. but, you remembered you actually liked this job and didn't want to lose it all because you lost control once at a time when you were defending yourself from everyone else's ridicule and judgement. even though you were one of only five women working this specific job, you still loved it even though it was a male-dominated job. you knew that when things like this happened, when the rain was blowing in your face and the whole world was on your case that your boyfriend, max, would offer you a warm embrace, making you feel his undying love for you.
however, he still hadn't returned from the monaco grand prix so unfortunately, your boyfriend wasn't going to be home the same time you returned home from work. so, you just sucked those tears back up and pushed on through the rest of the work day, only hoping that no one else would try to test you otherwise you would start to bawl your eyes and not have the ability to stop. cause once you start, you could find it quite difficult for yourself to stop crying.
continuing your customer service job, which truthfully you didn't need due to your boyfriend's extravagent job, you still loved it. it started to eventually come to the end of your work shift when you and the two other work colleagues that were incessant on causing you to almost have a mental breakdown, because of your gender, were called in for a meeting with the boss. and you just hoped it wasn't you getting yelled at again because you couldn't deal with that. and, you somehow managed a shaky breath of relief when you saw the body language your boss had in regards to your colleagues in comparison to you.
"---sir, i'm sorry but, what on earth are we doing in here with...her?" the older work colleague of yours jeered with attitude in his voice as your boss gave him a sharp look whilst you stayed silent, looking anywhere but at your boss and the two other colleagues
"pourquoi penses-tu, todd ?" your boss matched todd's attitude in french (since they were in monaco, dutch was not the main langauge spoken) as the man stepped down as he gulped before your boss couldn't stop himself from continuing but in english why do you think, todd?
"why do you both think it's okay to constantly bother y.n when she's just peacefully doing her job like everyone else, just like she's supposed to? don't you ever get tired of being incessant bullies? don't you ever think that i can actually hear all this bullying and abuse that you're aiming at y.n? do you ever step back and think to yourself how much stress and harm you are putting on her? do you ever step back and wonder if your words actually cause harm to your fellow work colleagues or are you just so ignorant that you no longer care anymore? because that's what i think of you todd and of you as well, richard, and i wish i had found out about this earlier so i could have let you both go before it could have escalated this far. and y.n, i am so incredibly sorry that it's taken this long for me to take action because this behaviour...this genderphobic misogynistic behaviour is never and will never be tolerated in my workplace, not today, not ever! so, todd, richard, it's with my greatest pleasure that today is your final day at this job and you will be fired because how you behave towards your other work colleagues is simply not tolerable any longer. i'd like to say i wish you both the best but, i'd honestly be lying if i said that so, let's hope the next time i have to see or hear about either of you, you guys' heads will have been removed out of arses. but in saying that, i don't have high hopes for that either...grab your things the both of you and leave, i want you guys clocked out and out of the building before the end of the day..." the boss was no longer allowing this abusive behaviour and you couldn't help but feel thankful to him, it was also quite hilarious to see how todd and richard reacted
for those who wanted a mental image of the way these two grown ass adults reacted to their firing was them basically throwing fits in the way a child would if they were told no, you cannot play on the tablet (child's name) your screen time for the day has finished. as much as you wanted to laugh, you found yourself not being able to because you were just so exhausted from this long and quite frankly traumatic day that you just wanted it to be over so you could go home and cacoon yourself in blankets on the couch as you then wait for your boyfriend max to return home from the monaco grand prix. but then you remembered that you still had a job to finish and, just as you went to leave your boss's office, he stopped you.
"...oh, y.n, before i let you go, i am terribly sorry that you had to deal with todd and richard constantly on your case today and every other day. you didn't deserve it and it was completely unwarranted every single time, no if's, no buts, no nothing. i wish i had done this firing sooner because they truly don't deserve a place in my workplace if they are being disrespectful to my fellow employees just because of their gender which is something that is of course, not easily changeable. also, if you wish to, i give you full permission to clock out earlier today since i know how exhausted you are from all of their abuses you've recieved. all i ask is that if you do leave early, that i get a text message reassuring me that you've got home safely and another one when max gets home from the grand prix since i remember you telling me that he returns back tonight because i want to know that you're being taken care of properly, okay?" tears welled in your eyes as you smiled, making eye contact with your boss as you nodded your head
"thank you sir. all of this has been well appreciated and, i'll be leaving work early since i don't think i feel like i'm in the right headspace to continue so, i'll clock out early. and, i promise, as soon as i get home and then as soon as max gets home, you'll be receiving text messages from me, don't worry. again, thank you for firing todd and richard and for sticking up for me, i know everyone else has but, having you also stick up for me just makes it a little bit better..." you trailed off as your boss nodded his head and watched as you left his office, a little less of the world weighing you down as you walked out then what you had when you walked in
let's just say you were happily surprised and relieved when you came home to see your boyfriend already home with his arms open ready to comfort you whilst you just unloaded on him after sending a message letting your boss know you had got home safely and that max too was there with his arms open waiting.
lando norris:
i know you haven't made your mind up yet but i would never do you wrong. i've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in mind where you belong.
you hated being in this position. your childhood best friend, lando norris (yes the lando norris from formula 1 was your childhood best friend) had just professed his undying and neverending love for you just hours before he was to leave for the japanese grand prix yet, you couldn't give him a yes or no answer. so, you just stood there, in the loungeroom of your childhood best friend's house, like an utter loser as you just stared at your best friend.
"...umm, i...i'm sorry what...what did you just say lando?" you managed to finally stammer out as lando let out a shaky breath, letting you know he was about to cry and you hated it - you hated being the reason that your best friend was crying
you could tell that lando didn't want to repeat himself and was about to leave so you stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "no, don't...please don't leave lando...i just, i know what you said, i heard it but i just...can i...maybe...have some time to think about my answer?" you stammered out as you held lando's hand tighter as his tears started to trickle down his cheeks as his lip trembled
"umm...yeah, sure....that...that's fine, y.n. i...i'm sorry, i shouldn't...i shouldn't have put you on the spot like that i just...i wanted to tell you before i leave for japan and i just...truthfully, i panicked and i just--"
"--hey, lando, calm down bubs. it's fine, you didn't put me on the spot, i just wasn't expecting it but, that doesn't mean i shouldn't not have expected it at all either. but, i'm still okay to think about my answer?" you reassured lando as he nodded his head to your question of still wanting to think about your answer and if it was okay
"yeah, absolutely, you can think about your answer, take as long or as little as you want. there is no timetable whatsoever, i just wanted to tell you before i left so, yeah..." lando smiled shyly, wiping away some extra tears off his cheeks as you smiled and moved closer
"...yeah, i get it lan. you didn't want to leave anything unsaid before leaving so you said it all now, it wouldn't be the first time we've done this. because, if i remember right, we had a similar if not same exact conversation when we were sixteen and seventeen right before you left for f2 and i gave you the same exact answer except, i never gave you the answer to your question but, this time, i promise i will because i think this time i'm ready to accept the truth and not be selfish anymore..." you trailed off, giving a quick kiss to lando's head leaving him confused as he turned around
"...selfish? you're never selfish, y.n..." lando whispered but you still heard it and you smiled as you opened the front door
"...i never intended to but, yes, i was this time lan. have fun during the race and i'll be there at the airport waiting for you and the grid to come home!" you smiled and left without another word as lando was still confused but didn't try to pursue anything more since he was needed at the airport within minutes
°•. ✿ .•°
lando had been having the best time in japan for the japanese grand prix. by the end of the race, whilst he didn't podium, he still got p5 and got a few points for mclaren with oscar piastri, the second mclaren driver getting p8 and also getting points for the team. but, even all that fun couldn't stop the fear of what your answer to his question was going to be when he reunites with you later tonight in london heathrow airport. he loved you dearly, you both knew this since like mentioned earlier, it wasn't the first time lando had professed his more than platonic love for you and you had rejected his advances and honestly, looking back on your sixteen-year-old self now as a twenty-three-year-old, you thought it was quite selfish as you remembered the same tearful, devastated face that little seventeen-year-old lando shared with the same but older, twenty-four-year-old lando the second time you "rejected" him. you couldn't keep on pretending that you too hadn't fallen head over heels in love with lando like he had with you because, you really had fallen in love with him. and probably first fell in love with him when you truthfully first met him when you guys were in primary school, never realising it until you were sixteen, when lando first tried to ask you out after expressing his love for you. you knew he would never do you wrong and would treat you like an absolute queen, seriously, he had seen you be mistreated since you were sixteen, after he left for europe and formula 1 and it bothered him so bad that he couldn't do anything to stop it. even after he pleaded with his dad, adam, to keep an extra close eye on you to make sure there were no physical injuries, you still refused to believe that your ex-boyfriends were abusive and bad because you didn't want to believe you were in love with your childhood best friend who you'd known since first grade in primary school.
except, now that you had the conversation a second time with lando at an older and slightly more mature age and just before you two would be apart for the best of a few months, you finally realised you couldn't be selfish anymore and you could no longer hide your true affection for lando anymore. so you didn't want to hide it anymore. as you impatiently waited at london heathrow airport with lily,  oscar piastri's girlfriend, you went back and forth in your mind of how you were going to tell lando that in fact, you too were in love with him and you wanted to be with him for as long as forever. but, just as you could think up of what you wanted to say to lando, you heard lily let out the loudest scream in the world, lily yanking on your hand as you looked up.
and all of a sudden, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding out of lily's or your legs from moving forward. bursting out into tears, you ran as fast as you could as you barely noticed the way lando's face lit up in excitement and slight anxiousness as you ran closer to him. since you were a loud crier, you basically had the entire arrivals terminal staring at you. and it wasn't just because there was a whole ass stampede of formula one teams returning home. via a normal commerical airplane and walking through a regular airport terminal in replacement of a private one right at the back of the airport. where no one else of the public would see them return home and potentially infiltrate them.
you finally got closer to lando who quickly dropped his duffle bag and opened his arms knowing you were going to jump into them. since it was something you always did from when you were younger. however, this time, it was different and he couldn't understand why until...
...you grabbed his face and kissed him in the most passionate way you had ever kissed anyone before in your entire life. lando, at first, of course was shell-shocked and understandably, mortified. but, as soon as he tasted the saltiness of the tears streaming down your cheeks on his lips, he didn't hesitate a second longer and started kissing you back. as cheers, applauses and wolf-whistles galore filled the arrival terminal at london heathrow airport as lando's team of mclaren, oscar piastri and their team principal watched on. lily holding tightly onto her own boyfriend with the biggest smile on her face. all of them happy that lando would no longer have to be devastated or fearful of his best friend not reciprocating her obvious love for him anymore.
"...i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you lando! i love you so fucking much and i am so sorry for being so selfish not telling you. i didn't really need time to think ahout my answer, i just said those things because i didn't want to allow myself to believe that i was in love with my best friend and it was so selfish of me and i cannot believe i made you cry like that and i just wish i could---"
kissing you again, lando pulled apart this time after initiating the second kiss, "---shut up will you, y.n, you really must love the sound of your voice if you're still too thick in the head to think i don't forgive you because i do forgive you. believe me, it took me way too long to pull my own head out of my arse because i also refused to believe that i was in love with my best friend as well. but, i put on my big boy pants and i told you two times, once when i was seventeen and about to leave for europe and the second time when i was twenty-four and leaving for the japanese grand prix because i didn't want to leave you without thinking i had forgotten anything. and i didn't because i told you that i was head over heels in love with you and unlike anyone else i'd ever loved before. and it broke my heart hearing you say you needed more time to think about it even though you had given me the same answer the first time and actually never gave me a response because you just couldn't face it at the time. and that's okay because this time you did and i couldn't have loved you anymore y.n. i mean...i...i've known it from the moment we met and there was no doubt in my mind where you belong and that's with me and no one else..." lando trailed off, tears welling in his eyes as you smiled as you initiated a third and one last kiss as the both of you couldn't stop laughing and crying and hugging each other
although it had taken years upon years of selfishly pretending you weren't in love with your best friend, you were glad it had taken until the japanese grand prix to kick your arse and head into gear as well as your head being removed from your arse and realise that you couldn't be selfish anymore. and you had to acknowledge that you couldn't fall in love with someone else because it was always going to be lando. and now, as you held tightly onto one another as you walked through london heathrow airport with the rest of the mclaren team and lily, you couldn't be any happier with your life now that you had lando with you forever and he was more than just your "childhood best friend".
oscar piastri:
i'd go hungry, i'd go black and blue, i'd go crawling down the avenue. no, there's nothin' that i wouldn't do, to make you feel my love
you struggled to believe it. oscar utterly refused to believe it. and he wished there was something he could have done to prevent it from happening...
"...mr piastri...did you hear what i just said?" oscar lifted his head up from staring at the carpeted floor in your, his wife's oncologist's office, with eyes that couldn't lie - your husband hadn't been listening at all to anything your oncologist had just said during the entire duration of them being in there
"ah, no i...i didn't, sorry, what were we talking about doctor marshall?" oscar gulped as he squeezed your hand tighter as you smiled with a soft and tenderness at him as doctor marshall smiled too
"don't apologise mr piastri, things like this can happen, especially because of how difficult it can be to comprehend your spouse having what can turn into a terminal illness, a lot of spouses will often pretend they didn't hear the diagnosis because they don't want to believe that their other half could be so sick..."
oh, that's why they were visiting doctor marshall. he was giving a diagnosis to you, oscar's wife, in regards to all the blood tests and other scans that you had been doing after you had been dealthly sick. and no one, not even your local gp in london, could provide you with an answer so they referred you over to doctor marshall in bristol. oscar had completely forgotten about that since he had been worrying about everything else that he couldn't even remember why he was in bristol with his wife and almost bursting out into tears in doctor marshall's office.
"...oh, umm, doctor marshall, will...is y.n able to undergo rounds of chemotherapy or any other form of can...treatment for her illness?" oscar stammered out as tears started to get him choked up as you stayed stoic and comforted your husband - you had a feeling that this doctor's appointment wouldn't be a happy and easy one to get through
"now, mr piastri, of course she is able to. we always suggest that the smartest and most logical idea, especially when we detect and diagnose the cancer early that going through treatment will give us and your wife the highest rate of surviving her cancer which is what we want. but, of course, we can't just force y.n to undergo treatment just for our own selfish needs. it has to be of her own wishes and accord because we don't know if the person suffering with the illness really wants to go through the process of the treatment and its side effects that it comes with as well as the long and constant hospital stays as an inpatient. so, if the both of you need some time to hash it out, i am absolutely fine with giving you guys a chance to chat and decide whether or not you, y.n, would like to go through with treatment or if you don't and after that, we can go from there, alright?" doctor marshall explained as you and oscar nodded your heads as you held each others hands tighter
"thanks, doctor marshall, we shouldn't take long..." you trailed off for the first time since the beginning of the appointment as you could hear your husband attempt to quieten his sobs as his body shook, his free hand covering his mouth as his eyes clamped shut tight
you knew this was breaking your husbands heart, you guys had lost your mum to cancer not too long ago just before formula 1 returned after their summer break and now, he had to go through that all over again with his wife? how on earth was that fair to oscar? it wasn't, it wasn't fair at all. however, you were determined to survive and beat your cancer for your mum who wasn't able to. you were determined to get to the end of your chemotherapy and ring that goddamn bell at the end of it all for those who never got to.
reaching over doctor marshall's desk to the tissue box, you grabbed a few and handed them to your husband as he wetly giggled, grabbing one of them and wiping his tears after pocketing the others, "...thanks babe..." he muttered as you kissed his temple softly as you continued to squeeze his hand comfortingly
"...so, doctor marshall wants us to discuss the idea of me going through treatment, so, how do you feel about me doing that?" you questioned, your head tilting to the side as oscar looked at you as though you were insane - which, in fairness, you were a little bit but, that's why oscar fell in love with you in the first place
"why are you asking me this, y.n? how do you the one who's actually going to through it, feel about it? this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you, just like doctor marshall said. just because i may want and heavily suggest you do it, if you don't want to do it, i respect your decision and will do everything i can do to make this journey easier for you! this is not my decision to ultimately make, babe!" oscar's tears were still heard in his voice although his sobs had calmed down as you sighed and nodded your head, smiling softly
"okay. well, it wasn't a hard decision, osc. i want to go through with the chemotherapy, especially because doctor marshall said that we caught it early that i have a higher chance of surviving. i...i want to ring that bell at the end of chemo because mummy never got to ring that bell and i want to do that. i can't bare the thought of you losing another person you love with your entire beating heart to cancer because that's just unfair. especially when you had no idea that she was living with it until her death. so, it's best i start now when it's still early in the cancer to do so..." you trailed off, your heart breaking as your husband's sobs returned at the mention of your mum, his mother-in-law's death to cancer alongside the possibility of his own wife losing her cancer battle as well
"...i can't either, y.n. i can't lose you either! i barely survived losing your mum, i can't lose you too! i don't want to!" oscar sobbed as he folded in on himself, his pain immeasurable as you reached over the chair's arm and hugged your husband as tightly as you possibly could as he wept
"you won't lose me baby! i'm going to get through this cancer, i'm gonna ring that bloody bell and then we're going to rest and then after that, we're gonna have as many kids as we possibly can and we're gonna live happily ever after, i promise..."
°•. ✿ .•°
...psh, yeah, happily ever after my arse! once again, almost like a coda to the day you were diagnosed with cancer, you were stoic and unemotional whilst oscar, your husband was almost weepy at doctor marshall's check-up with you at the cancer hospital in downtown bristol. for some context, not too long after that doctor's appointment where you were first officially diagnosed, within a month, you were admitted to bristol's cancer hospital as an in-patient so you could start your cancer treatment basically straight away to give you the best chance of survival and eliminating the cancer all together. whilst oscar had to sadly return back to formula 1 and the grand prixs, making sure that he'd return straight back to bristol when given permission to do so by his team principal at mclaren. 
however, this is where the "pssh, yeah, happily ever after my arse!" comes from because, just this last couple weeks, you'd been blindsided with a dangerous infection in your bloodstream which nearly rendered you into a coma if the nurses hadn't noticed in time. and, even though, like your cancer, the nurses caught the infection early, it still didn't stop you from being in dangerous waters. so, you had to constantly fight every single day by forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, to eat, to drink and to walk around the upper cancer unit for ten minutes a day before returning back to your hospital room so you could then spend a couple of hours with oscar and someone else that he'd invite to come with him. the "someone else" was usually his mclaren teammate lando norris or your childhood friend's charles leclerc from ferrari and red bull's max verstappen. but today, it was all three of them because your oncology team had a terrible gut feeling and whilst they wished it to be a false alarm, they wanted to make sure oscar had enough people around him to comfort him if their gut feeling was to follow through and come true. thank god there was a three week break between the grand prix that just occured and the next one coming up because there was no way that all four f1 drivers would get away with missing a grand prix as unfortunate as it sounds. 
oscar was currently sitting uncomfortably, with his legs crossed like when you were kids at primary school sitting on the floor, his right elbow resting on the arm of the chair and his left arm stretching over to hold yours as you rested, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, your chest ever so slightly rising and falling tucked away under the sheets of your hospital bed. tears were constantly threatening to dribble down his cheeks as he constantly willed them away as he breathed shakily in and out, his hand occasionally coming up from the chair arm and covering his mouth for the times he couldn't help a sob and it's escape. and standing all around the rest of the room were his three teammates, lando, charles and max and they were helpless in knowing how to console their castmate. none of them had gone through the loss of someone they love due to cancer and now the possibility of the same thing was happening to his wife. although you were currently unconscious but breathing, you just knew that oscar wished it was him in the hospital bed with cancer and this mysterious yet dangerous blood infection. it was completely obvious because oscar had been that way ever since you two started dating and even before that when you two were just best friends.
i mean, this man, this lunatic of a man who was crazy in love with you would go hungry for you. he'd go black and blue for you. he'd go crawling down the avenue for you. there was absolutely nothing this looney toon wouldn't do for you because if it showed you how much he loved you, he'd do it. he'd even switch places with you, have himself go through this cancer, the treatment and this awful, stressful, heartbreaking, scary blood infection if it meant that you were okay and not worried every single day about whether or not you were actually going to end up ringing that bell at the end of your chemotherapy.
and, suddenly, out of pure fight that you still had left in you, you opened your eyes more determined then ever whilst oscar cried the same way he did when his best friend took his last breath with lando providing him with some comfort as he kind of rested on top of him, his arms around oscar's waist which moved each sob which made lando move slightly. charles and max not too far behind when charles' eyes widened, his teary eyes, since oscar wasn't the only one in a grief-like state, spoke up in a whisper.
"...osc...y.n's woken up..." charles whispered and as oscar and lando both heard that sentence, their heads shot up and more tears poured down oscar's face as he touched your face, lando's arms letting go of his hold on oscar
"...oh, baby! are you okay? are you hurt? what hurts? do i need to get the nurse what's--"
"--calm down babe, breathe. yes, i'm okay darling. i'm not hurt, i'm just a little numb and stiff due to the way i've been lying down. and yes, getting the nurse would be a great idea, and i think you should do it because you've been holed up in this room longer than anyone else has. lando, charles and max will take immense care of me for the five or so minutes you step out of this room to grab the nurse so don't have a freak out, alright love? i'm still here, i haven't left and i won't leave...now go, get the nurse and doctor marshall," you may have just woken up but that didn't mean you were tired or exhausted because you weren't, truthfully, you felt more alive than you'd ever felt before
agreeing and too tired to think about arguing, oscar nodded his head and unlatched his grip from yours and left the hospital room to fetch the nurse and doctor marshall, "okay, i'll be back love. have some water, you must be thirsty, lando'll help you if you need it," oscar smiled softly with a tender kiss to your temple as you smiled as you watched him walk out, wiping away his wet cheeks and to the left to the reception desk so they could page for the nurse and doctor marshall
let's just say, from how calm and smiley both the nurse and doctor marshall were, it seemed as though their gut feeling was wrong and the blood infection had been caught early and it looked as though you were going to make an amazing recovery. from not just the infection but also from the cancer and that was why the rest of bristol's cancer hospital could hear cheers, screams and just outright excitement coming out of room 4580.
charles leclerc:
when the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there is no one there to dry your tears, i could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love.
you couldn't stay strong anymore so you didn't. you had returned home from the sinagpore grand prix to monte-carlo, monaco early to hold a vigil back in your childhood home for your father who was dying due to respiratory distress and it had just been confirmed that your father had died. you didn't want to believe it, i mean, what twenty-four-year-old wanted to believe that their father has just died after months and months of being bedridden after being diagnosed with respiratory distress? the doctors promised you, promised your whole family that with some sort of miracle drug that was very new but already so revoulationary and able to cure the disease that you were beside yourself that their promise fell on deaf hands and deaf ears. how dare they lie to you and your family? how dare they provide you with such comfort and solace that your dad was going to survive only for him to die months later in his bed in the very home you had every single childhood memory up until age twelve when you moved to montmatre, france to monte-carlo, monaco after your parents civily split up. and right now, you just cried. your body fell forward as a loud and guttural sob that sounded as though it was from an animal that was dying fell from your mouth as your knees hit the ground, your arms falling onto your father's bed on which he laid on in his final moments.
it was in that moment that the rest of your siblings, mum and doctor left the master bedroom as you continued to weep, wishing only for the dark to become light again, wishing for your father to open his eyes and just say he was joking even though he knew that would be a too crude joke to play on his ever-loving family who had never done a thing wrong to deserve that type of tasteless joke. your mum, whilst devastated over the loss of her ex-husband, knew you'd be the most devastated about this and was thankful, praising god that she remembered that charles leclerc, your boyfriend and f1 driver had been granted early leave from the singapore grand prix. it was well known within ferrari that your dad's health had been declining so, lovingly, they allowed the smart decision for charles to have permission to leave any time he got the phone call from your mum or anyone in the family about the death of your dad. the only one who could provide comfort for her was charles. 
due to your wailing and complete ignorance to the world around you, you hadn't noticed the gentle touch of your gorgeously talented but ever so empathetic and sweetheart of a boyfriend, charles. however, because you could feel the slight change in the air, you could tell without lifting your head up off of your father's bed and current resting place that someone was next to you. it wasn't until you heard his soft voice that you knew instantly by the way of his accent, the french effortlessly slipping from his mouth and how it was obvious he too had spent time crying himself, that it was your boyfriend next to you and not a family member who just carelessly decided to check in on you just for the sake of it.
"...y.n, bébé, tu peux te reposer maintenant..." charles' soft voice, that sounded like he too had been crying after recieving the phone call from your mother sounded from beside you as you finally lifted your head up from the warm blankets and sheets of your father's bed y.n, baby, you can rest now
"...charles... qu'est-ce que... qu'est-ce que tu fais ici ? tu es censé être toujours à singapour pour le grand prix..." you trailed off, your voice croaky and hoarse from all the wailing you had been doing for what felt like eternity at this stage charles...what...what are you doing here? you're supposed to still be in singapore for the grand prix
"...tu es plus important, y.n. ta mère m'a appelé, elle m'a raconté ce qui s'était passé..." charles' voice stopped as he got all choked up as tears welled in his eyes as you struggled to hold yourself together again you are more important, y.n. your mum called me, she told me what had happened
"...il...mon père est mort charles...il...il ne reviendra pas...il...il ne se réveillera plus jamais..." you sobbed as you fell, instead of collapsing forward onto the bed, you fell sideward onto charles who caught you and held you as more sobs jolted your tired body he...my dad's dead charles...he...he isn't coming back...he...he's never going to wake up again
"...je sais chérie et je suis vraiment désolée. j'aimerais pouvoir dire n'importe quoi qui pourrait soulager cette douleur mais je sais que rien ne peut faire ça!" charles whispered as he held you, rocking the both of you back and forth as tears streamed down the both of your faces whilst your dad's lifeless body laid in rest on the top of the bed that you were still hunched over i know darling and i am so sorry. i wish i could say anything that could ease this hurt but i know nothing can do that!
the evening started to shadow the master bedroom of your childhood home and you could see the light of the stars started to appear, there was an obvious brighter star that shone the brightest out of all of them. it was clear that that star was none other than your dad reassuring you and the rest of the family alongside charles' own dad and godfather jules that he was safe and that he'd always be there to shine bright every single night. last time your family went through a bereavement, you and charles were only best friends and he was in italy and you were in monte-carlo which meant that he wasn't just a quick drive away to wipe away all your tears over the loss of your grandpapa when you were a mere twelve-year-old returning back to monte-carlo in the same way twenty-four-year-old you had returned to monte-carlo to stand vigil at your now-dead father's bedside. it was a weird sense of deja vu or like a coda in a movie or song but, this time you were just grateful that you had charles here with you to comfort you and to dry your tears, to hold you for a million years.
"...charles...je t'aime tellement..." you whispered, your eyes only just staying open since it was now midnight and you and charles were still sitting vigil in your father's bedroom hours after his death date had been called charles...i love you so much
"...je t'aime aussi bébé... je pense qu'il est temps de se reposer et d'aller dormir ? qu'en penses-tu?" charles whispered as you couldn't help but agree, although you wanted to stay in this room with your father for the rest of eternity, you knew you couldn't do that i love you too baby...i think it's time we get some rest and go to sleep? what do you think?
"ouais, je ne pense pas que papa voudrait qu'on pleure à son chevet pour le reste de notre vie. je pense que s'il avait la capacité de devenir un fantôme, il nous reprocherait certainement de pleurer sur lui *tearful giggles*. en plus, je suis épuisé et il est presque minuit trente minutes et je suis sûr que tu es incroyablement fatigué par le long vol alors il est temps d'aller au lit..." you trailed off with a broken smile, standing up off the floor from your kneeling grief position and held out your hand for charles to grab it yeah, i don't think dad would want us crying at his bedside for the rest of our lives. i think if he had the ability to become a ghost, he'd definitely tell us off for crying over him. besides, i'm exhausted and it's nearly thirty minutes after midnight and i'm sure you are incredibly tired from the long flight so, it's time for bed
and he did, with an identical broken smile, he grabbed your hand and stood up as well as you guys walked out of your father's bedroom, not forgetting to quietly close it behind you cause, even in death, it would be rude to loudly close your father's door when he's trying to sleep.
fin
why do i make only a couple of them so sad? i don't know but anyway, i enjoyed rewriting this into a new version and i hope you guys enjoy reading it. also, funny that the only real translating i used was for charles' one-shot since there was no way i was going to translate the entirety of max's one-shot lol. anyway, i hope you guys enjoyed this. 
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