#like. dogg. do you not have anything better to do

[aroacedavestrider]

New blog title? [I was going to add a porygon image to the ask but it didn't work so... imagine him for me ok]

ya someone decided i was ableist for calling a rude anon “terminally online”, p much insisted the whole time that its insensitive to disabled people who have no choice but to be online to interact with people cause they cant leave the house

which like. ok im not arguing those people dont matter?? obviously?? but fact of the matter is words mean more than one thing in different contexts and “terminally” just so happens to mean “in an extreme manner” sometimes. people who spend all their time absorbed in their discourse circles while refusing to interact with the irl world On Purpose is … fucking extreme ! and usually bad for you! lmao!

NEEDING to be online to even communicate to begin with isnt bad or extreme its just. accomodating and accessible. people who NEED to be online cause they cant leave imo shoudnt be considered terminally online cause theyre just chilling. nothing extreme about just chilling frfr

tldr im spiting someone over a stupid ass take and also factually speaking im terminally balling regardless . #yippie

[dirtydixonsgirl]

Can you write reader taking care of a very sick Daryl after he collapses while on a run? Feverish, he tries to tell her how he feels but she blames the illness. He gets better, gets embarrassed, but then they talk and make out session ensues - interrupted by the rescue party for shits and giggles.

Sick

Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader

A/n: this is gonna be fluffy mostly, thought this idea was super cute. sorry it took so long ):

WARNINGS: heated make out, deliriously speaking, illness yeah yeah yeah

Daryl was sick, it was exactly what you feared these last few weeks. The flu was running rampant in the prison, taking out your group one by one, it was horrible to watch. You and few others were safe, luckily. Your nerves have ease since the outbreak of this illness but when Daryl started to avoid you, you crept around to see what his deal was and when you found him coughing and sniffling you knew something was up.

Although you knew he’d never admit to being sick, you could see it in his eyes. Your worried eyes searching his face everytime he coughs or sneezes, he knew something was off, passing it off as ‘allergies’, but your worried gaze broke his heart, he didn’t want you to worry about him. But he also didn’t want to be locked away with the rest of the sick people, away from you of all people, he needed to be here to protect you, he knew that if something happened to you while he was locked away he would never forgive himself.

Here both of you stood, in front of Rick, Daryl demanding he go on this run with you instead of Glenn or t-dogg, he knew they were good out there, there was no doubt but the only way to settle his nerves about you going was to come with you. Admittedly, you were on the fence about Daryl going, you could see in his eyes he was getting sicker by the minute and Rick could also sense something was off, but he was well aware of how stubborn Daryl could be.

“Daryl,” you stood behind him. “You don’t need to do this, you should rest.”

“I’m fine.” He coughs a little bit before readjusting the items he was bringing with on the motorcycle. “Jus get in the car women.”

You cross your arms, watching him struggle a bit, biting back a few coughs. You wanted him to ride in the car with you instead of his motorcycle but he wouldn’t budge. Another thing you noticed as well was he wouldn’t let you be too close to him.

“I will as soon as you get in the car with me.”

He sighed. “M’ fine. I told you, I need fresh air. Missed this.”

“I’m just worried about you, Daryl.” You knew the affect your saddened voice has on him, how could he ever say no to you? It just wasn’t possible.

He knew you were only worried about him, as his cough was starting to deepen he realized he might be worried about himself as well.

“Okay,” he agreed, grumbling. “Let’s go.”

The car ride was almost silent, Daryl wasn’t much of a talker and your nerves were getting the best of you, he sat a seat away, you driving after a small fight about him being the man and wanting to drive but you felt like he was in no shape. His coughs turning into hacking, you kept glancing over at him.

“M’ fine. Quit lookin’ at me like that.” He mumbles, resting his head against the window.

“You don’t seem like it.” You turn your focus to the road. “You know I’m just worried.”

“Nothin’ is gonna take me out, sunshine.” He jokes, you blush at the pet name.

“You can’t promise me that, anything could happen, Daryl.”

Daryl was your best friend, the first person you had continued with since the group found you out there stumbling around, dying of dehydration. You both have been close since the beginning and you were well aware of the attachment you had grown to your best friend, realizing it was unhealthy, you knew it was okay because it would never go further than that.

Arriving to the desired spot, an old run down gas station across from a neighborhood you put the vehicle in park, turning off the truck. Your eyes turn to meet Daryls but suddenly they widen, taking in his features.

“Daryl,” you panick. “You’re sweating.”

“It’s hot in here.” He grumbles, wiping the small beats of sweat off his head. “Let’s go.”

“Maybe we should go home, I don’t think you need to be doing this.”

“God damnit, I said I’m fine!” He suddenly spats.

You jump slightly at his tone, realizing you’ve heard him talk this way to other people but somehow have never been on the other end. His eyes soften instantly due to your reaction, sighing harshly.

“M’ sorry. But seriously, I’m okay, can we just go? I don’t wanna talk ‘bout this anymore.”

You sigh, hesitantly agreeing. His skin was getting pale but you knew at this point saying anything to him was useless, he was too stubborn to listen to your words, he’d rather keep pushing.

You followed closely behind him, your gun raised, searching the area. His crossbow up as well, you always felt safe with him, he always would protect you, almost like he would jump in front of a bullet for you, as your friendship grows so does your love but both of you knew neither of that would matter because neither of you would ever admit to it.

After searching the gas station and few houses, making sure to stay close to one another, you had found a few items but when you got back to the truck, you noticed no Daryl, and nothing had been loaded on the truck. Your heart instantly stops, panic rushing through your veins. Where could he be? Did he get hurt? Did someone take him? The thoughts were running endlessly.

“Daryl?” You call out, the worry lacing your voice.

You leave the items unattended, you knew he hadn’t gone far off on his own will, he wouldn’t do that you. He always kept his word and stayed close. Running back down to the neighborhood, your feet continuously smacking the pavement, you find the first house he was in, searching it.

“Daryl? Are you in here?” You call out.

Nothing. Silence. You run up the steps, checking the rooms, again nothing. Your mind was racing at this point, your heart beat thumping against your rib cage. The emotions wanted to spill but you held them back, your eyes filling with water. You can’t lose him, not now.

The next house you seen him go into, the door was left open. Indicating that there was possibility he was still in there. You fling the door open, the living room empty, your eyes searching every corner, the liquid threatening to spill from your eyes. Nothing.

“Daryl!” You call out, shakily. “Daryl please tell me you’re in here.”

You search the living room, upstairs, the hallways, nothing. That’s until your footsteps patter into the kitchen area.

“Y/N?” Daryl calls out weakly.

You heart instantly filling with sadness at the site. The tears were now spilling down your cheeks, your eyes wander down the pale, sweating Daryl sitting on the kitchen floor next to the fridge. He is sick, very sick. Your heart pangs, instantly running over to get down with him.

“Daryl,” you cry, wiping his sweaty hair from his forehead. “I knew something was wrong, I knew you were sick.”

The emotions were over whelming. Your were scared, more scared than you ever have been in your life. This had confirmed your feelings about him indefinitely. You knew there was no hiding it now. His pale sunken eyes meet yours, his breathing slightly shallowed. Your hands were shaking.

“M’ okay, don’t worry ‘bout me.” His voice shakes.

You shake your head at him. “God damn it, Daryl Dixon. You’re the most stubborn person I know.”

He cracks a smile at your sudden outburst. But you were serious, he really was. You bring your hand to his forehead, feeling his temp. He was hot to the touch, burning up. You could feel the body heat radiating off of him.

“You’re running a fever, we have to get you back to Hershel.” You tell him quickly.

“Jus’ give me a minute.” He shakes his head. “I love ya so much.”

Your eyes meet him, sudden confusion written on your face. Daryl wasn’t aware of his words, the fever over taking his emotions. He wasn’t in the right state of mind but he knew those words were truthful. He always knew he loved you, but the words spilling out at the sight of you caring for him just came so naturally, he didn’t have to think twice.

Although Daryl has told you that he has loved you before, it was clear this was different meaning. The way his eyes were sparkling and how desperate his tone was. Like it was something he’s been holding back for a long time, true feelings. Your heart began to melt as you thought of your next words, stunned.

“Daryl, what are you talking - you know what? Nevermind, we need to get you home.”

“The only reason I wanted to come out here with ya is so I could be with ya, take care of ya. You mean tha’ world to me, Y/N.” He mumbles, his eyes searching your face.

His speech was slow, you were well aware he was now speaking delusionally which only made your mind race more. How high was his fever? You blushed at his words and shook it off instantly. He has no idea what he’s saying.

You take his arm, lifting him up, he wraps it around your neck, carrying most of his body weight himself but he was still heavy against you. He was slow, dragging his feet with yours taking all of his energy just to lift himself.

“I mean it Y/N, yer ma world.” He slurs. “Never felt tha’ way ‘bout anyone. Jus’ you.”

Your heart flutters at his words. You had wondered where this sudden outburst came from but ultimately you knew it was a result from the fever. He was delirious, speaking out of his ass. You didn’t say anything back to feed into his rambling you were surely going to tease him about this when he felt better.

“Y/N,” he speaks again. “Look at me.”

You glance up at him and realize he’s been looking at you the entire time.

“Ya so god damn beautiful, bunny.” He murmurs. “Hope ya know I mean all these words.”

Your face turns beat red at the nickname. Remembering he use to tease you with it when you first met because he took you out hunting and you caught bunny, just one, so from there on he tease you with the nickname. You couldn’t believe he still remembered it after all these years. It still made your heart flutter.

“That fever is really kicking your ass.” You laugh, trudging him along.

“Not the fever, Y/N, ma’ real feelings. I ain’t afraid of nothin’ but I’m afraid of dyin’ and not gettin’ to tell ya how I feel.” He starts. “Yer the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His words although slow, you felt they meant something. Something in his voice told you his words were sincere, they were coming so effortlessly, like he didn’t need to think about it because he had been practicing this forever. You wanted him to shut up. The words had you a blushing mess, but you knew as soon as this sickness was over you’d have to confront him about it, you were not looking forward to that.

You helped him into the front seat, your face still red and your heart thumping nervously, you needed to get him back to Rick and Hershel.

“We’ll talk about this when you feel better, Daryl.” You spoke softly.

“Whatever you say, Bunny.” He mumbles, his head against the window.

-

It had been about two weeks before Daryl was feeling better. You had came to visit him multiple times a day, worrying about him. The sickness hit him hard, you worried so much that you were begging Rick to let you inside the place, risking getting yourself sick just to have your last moments with him. There was a big glass between you both and he couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t stand being away from you.

You hadn’t told him about his feverish words back on the run, you could tell he was just starting to gain actual consciousness of his surroundings a few days ago, he hadn’t mentioned his words, he just kept asking what happened and how he got there.

He was healing fast, his cough has resided, the blood from the cough was now gone, he was alert, awake and stubborn as ever, threatening to break out of sick groups cell as soon as he got the chance. The group had taken a fall from Daryl being sick, considering he was one of the important men and Ricks right hand man.

“You miss me?” Daryl jokes, throwing the curtains back to your cell room.

You eyes lit up in surprise, god how you’d missed your best friend. Your nervous mind was instantly calmed when he took you up in a hug, squeezing you.

“Daryl,” you choked out. “I can’t breathe.”

He chuckled, his big arms unwrapping you. He looked like himself, you missed this, you missed him. You knew it was time to ask him about his words, but you were scared. Really scared. Of his reaction and rejection, embarrassment was already running through your body. He must of noticed your serious look, he could always sense when something thing was wrong,

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, questioning look crossing his face.

You didn’t want to look at him, your cheeks already lighting up. You knew you weren’t getting out of this without telling him, you pondering if you actually wanted to tell him or just lie about it, you didn’t enjoy lying about things but some times calls for drastic messaures.

“Y/N?”

“N-nothing.” You finally say. “How are you feeling?”

“Nah, what’s wrong? I know that look.”

Of course he does. Shit. You finally meet his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed down into his normal curious look. You hated when he looked at you with those eyes. You could melt under them.

Daryl was worried you weren’t exactly happy to see him. He wasn’t even sure of how he got to where he ended up with all those sick people, what if he did something to hurt you? Said something to hurt you?

“Just something you said when you were sick.” You admit.

Instant fear ran through his body at the possibly of what could’ve been said to you. He was clearly delirious and out of his mind but the look on his face told him whatever he said was important to you and weighed heavy on your mind.

“W-what’d I say?”

“Just that you loved me.” You shrug.

“Why’s that bad?”

“Because your tone was different.”

Daryl looked at you for a moment, hiding behind his beautiful long brown hair, blue eyes you’ve came to love, staring deeply into your eyes. He knew he loved you, he thought it was obvious enough. After everything you both have been through how could he not love you? You were everything to him and he would do anything to protect you. He just couldn’t believe he didn’t get to say it to you in a more conscious state of mind, he might have saved himself the embarrassment because he was for sure that you didn’t feel the same way.

You noticed his posture, he was nervous, his nerves were eating him alive. You knew that look all too well. He was panicking inside. You knew exactly how to fix his situation, without a word you leaned up, cupping his cheek, feeling the bristles from his beard poking at you, connecting your lips. The sparks inside you were running rampant at the feeling. Daryl’s lips felt perfect on yours, without hesitation he kissed you back with the even more passion.

His body reacting before his mind he pushes you up against the wall, his hands pulling your back closer to him to close the proximity. Your hands waver up his shirt feeling his warmth and muscles under your touch making him shiver with the contact. Your kiss was needy and desperate and he was falling putty into your hands, allowing your hands to roam where they please.

But your hands found there way to his hair, it set something off in him. Tugging on his hair slightly erupted a groan from him straight into your mouth and you felt it travel all the way down you. This wasn’t suppose to be happening but the adrenaline coursing through you both was too much to handle.

You couldn’t help but pray that none of this ruined your friendship.

“Daryl, are you-“ You could hear the sound of Rick walking past the prison cells. “Well holy shit.”

You both instantly disconnected bodies, staring into the faces of Rick, Glenn, Hershel and Maggie staring back at you. Some faces shocked, some faces smirking as they knew all too well. The embarrassment burned both of your cheeks, readjusting yourselves. You both were never going to live this down.

“You comin’?” Ricks voice wavers through the prison once more.

“What?” Daryl asks back, slightly confused and taken back by his words.

“You comin’?” Glenn repeats now, a smirk littering his face causing a swat from Maggie. “You know, to help take out the walkers at the gate?”

“Oh.” He sighs, realizing that’s not what they meant. “Yeah, yeah, M’ comin’.”

A few of them begin to snicker, walking away from the cell to leave you both drowning in your own embarrassment. At this point you just wanted to run away and hide, being both of the shyest people here being caught in a hot and heavy make out session was just not exactly what you wanted to envision for yours and Daryl’s first kiss.

You looked at him, giggling and he let a half smile cross his lips. You weren’t sure of a lot of things anymore in this world but one thing you knew is that you love Daryl back, probably even more than that.

[all-risejd]

A New Judgment Chapter 1: WrestleMania 39 (Poly Judgment Day Fic)

Written by @scarletraine​ who can’t seem to remember to post to this godforsaken hellsite so has me post here for your enjoyment!

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Nessa sits between Aalyah and Angie ringside at WrestleMania at the request, at the insistence, of Rey and Angie. She is wracked with nerves having not seen Dominik or heard from Dominik in months since he broke up with her over text saying,

"Nessa we're over, I'm sorry but you don't deserve this, you deserve better." He never responded to anything else and ghosted her. Dom's family kept in touch, taking her out for her birthday and such, and filled in some blanks but nothing is making sense and she is conflicted and hurt. Nessa starts playing with the bracelet that Dominik gave her on their anniversary which belonged to his grandmother and means a lot to her and to his family. She starts to fidget more as Dominik makes his entrance and makes his way down to the ring.

Aalyah sees how nervous and fidgety Nessa is and gently places her hand on Nessa's shoulder.

"You look hot girl, he is going to regret what he has done," Aalyah tries to boost Nessa who only shrugs her shoulders, her black lace top corset matching her ripped jeans, accentuating what she feels are her best assets, but Angie was the one who picked the top and Nessa is suspicious as to their motives to bring her there tonight even though they have been nothing but welcoming to her.

Nessa's eyes never leave Dominik's body as he makes his way down to the ring and begins to strut as he enters it. He faces his mom, sister, and ex, his expression changes for a split second, Nessa would have missed it if she blinked, he almost looked remorseful. Aalyah sees it as well and leans over again so she could be heard by Nessa.

"Are you ok sis, I know this can't be easy for you," Nessa shrugs again, trying to keep from speaking so her voice doesn't break. Angie looks at the young girl she has grown to love as another daughter in the few years she was with Dominik, getting with him shortly before the pandemic when he met her at her job.

Everyone but Nessa stands as Eddie Guerrero's music comes on and Rey comes out in a lowrider being driven by Snoop Dogg. She doesn't see however, her eyes don't leave Dominik, the hurt evident on her face. Every time he looks over at his mom and sister he never meets her gaze. As Rey enters the ring Dom puffs out his chest acting tough. It isn't until the match starts that she says anything to them.

"I can't do this I'm sorry..." She moves to get up with tears in her eyes to leave but Angie grabs her wrist.

"Mija please. I know this is hard, but we are here to support them and hopefully put this mess to bed."

Nessa looks at her incredulously, "How can I support either. I still love Dom but he broke my heart and it is clear he doesn't feel the same anymore if he ever did. I love Rey like a father, and I can't side with either over the other I'm sorry." She tries to gently pull her arm away, but notices Angie's sad eyes flicker to the camera aimed at them and then to the fighting men in the ring. Nessa groans and plops down, hiding her face in her hands, realizing the commentators are probably having a field day with what she said. She jerks her head up as the crowd gasps and Angie and Aalyah stand up cheering. Nessa sees Dominik between the turnbuckles and a belt in Rey's hand. She stands up mortified no longer caring about the camera.

"Rey, don't do this please!" She screams out, her own past flashing before her eyes and not wanting Dom to experience this embarrassment. She feels Angie grab her arm again but yanks it away, looking on mortified as Rey spanks Dominik. She looks at Rey, betrayal evident on her face as Dominik rolls out of the ring and stands in front of them. Dominik barely glances at her and It is at that moment she realizes why they insisted on bringing her, why she is there. To distract Dom, to guilt him back to his family and her and she feels disgusted.

"What the hell was that?" Dominik yells at his mom over the crowd

"You deserve it!" Angie yells back, Aalyah standing beside Nessa, her drink cup in her hand. Dominik grabs it and glances down before throwing it at her, the liquid also getting on Nessa. Without thinking Nessa is halfway over the barricade holding Aalyah back.

"Aalyah no, don't get involved!" She struggles to say as she holds back Aalyah. Rey hops out of the ring and runs over to check on them only to be jumped by Dominik and sling shot into the corner of the ring. Dominik then grabs rey and slides him back into the ring and gets back in himself taunting the crowd smacking his shoulders.

Nessa stays standing, one hand on the barricade, the other biting her thumbnail, anxiously watching as the match goes on. She feels a gentle tug at her belt loop and looks down to see Aalyah gesturing to her seat. After a moment of debating, she takes her seat. She leans over to Angie, her hand covering her lips so people can't read them and whispers to her.

"Did you insist I come to try and manipulate or distract him so he will come back or lose?" She stares at Angie's face as she thinks of an answer. However, the hesitation is answer enough and she stands back up, unable to hide the betrayal she feels.

"I'm sorry sweetheart we are desperate," Angie tries to grab Nessa's hand only for it to be snatched away. She watches as Dom flings his dads neck on the top rope and jumps out of the ring, pulling Rey out before sauntering back over to them. Worry flashes across his eyes looking at Nessa's expression but he controls his expression and turns to his mom who is standing again.

"What are you going to do about it, you're not going to do anything!" he taunts his mom. Nessa can't hear anything else because she is so shocked when Angie slaps Dom who turns around shocked with his hand on his cheek. Rey comes up behind him and pushes him into the corner of the ring headfirst. He then turns and kisses Angie and mouths ' I'm sorry' to Nessa before throwing Dominik back into the ring. She flinches every time Rey lands a hit on Dominik and Cheers when Dominik kicks out of the Pin.

"Why are you cheering him on, he broke your heart?" Aalyah asks, annoyed and confused.

"Because you guys were wrong to bring me to guilt or distract him, that was wrong to me and him. He needs someone in his corner. Even with the heartbreak I couldn't go against him." Nessa sighs in relief as Dom kicks out of another pin.

"Not only did he dump you, he did it by text with no explanation. He doesn't deserve your support." Aalyah tries to convince Nessa to support her dad instead of Dominik.

"Because when you love someone, you want what is best for them even if it isn't you anymore. If Rhea and The Judgment Day is that for him and it makes him happy that's all I care about." She sees some people nod in agreement.

"I understand and respect that, but I can't condone the disrespect, he needs to be taught a lesson." Angie claps as Rey lands another hit.

"You mean disrespect like calling up your son's heartbroken ex who hasn't seen or heard from him in months, making her sit and watch him thrown around by his father in an attempt to manipulate or distract him. The same ex who has a history of being abused and you know," Nessa's rant silences any response Angie would have.

Nessa is on her feet and watches as Dom flings Rey and catches his neck on the top rope and falls to the mat. Dominik jumps out of the ring and pulls Rey out and tosses him to the ground and heads over to them again. Worried flashes over his eyes for a moment as he glances at Nessa before focusing on his mother who stood up.

"What are you going to do about it, you're not going to do anything!" he taunts, and Nessa can't breathe, a roaring in her ears blocks out what was said next as Angie slaps Dom who turns away holding his face and the crowd cheers. Nessa looks disgusted at Angie and Rey gets up and attacks Dominik and flings him into the same corner as before. With Dom on the ground writhing in pain Rey turns around and kisses Angie and mouths I'm sorry to Nessa who only glares at him as he tosses Dominik back into the ring.

She realizes she fully chose Dominik's side as she flinches every time Rey lands a hit and cheers when kicks out of the pin. Aalyah looks at Nessa annoyed,

"Why do you cheer him on? He betrayed us, betrayed you."

"Because he has no one in his corner and he deserves that. He didn't betray me, he broke my heart. There is a difference. You were wrong to bring me here to distract or manipulate him." She answers as Rey pins Dominik again. She sighs in relief as he kicks out again.

"Why do you want to be the one in his corner since he broke your heart and ghosted you." Aalyah pries.

Not caring about the cameras Nessa answers, "Because i still love him Aalyah, as i said a minute ago, so stop trying to turn me against him." Nessa begins to relax a little when Finn and Damien come out to the ring, she still worries for Rey. While she is hurt at their actions, she doesn't want either to truly hurt themselves or the other. She flinches as Rey is thrown into a turnbuckle and is seemingly knocked out.

"Dom get up and pin him!" Nessa yells out wanting this to be over. She doesn't see but Finn and Damien share a look and nod in an unspoken agreement. Finally, Dom pins his father and Nessa groans as Rey kicks out again. "I just want this to be over..." She mutters to herself before cussing and slapping the barrier as Rey hits the 619.

She is happy but conflicted as Damien and Finn hop onto the apron to interfere. Damien pulls Rey down and takes off his jacket, laying it in the corner of the ring. She is biting her nails again as they both fall out of the ring, the wind knocked out of them in front of Finn and Damien. The LWO runs out and down the ramp attacking Finn and Damien before they could interfere again.

"Come on Dom!!!" She cheers as he sets up his own 618 and then tries to finish with a frog splash and pins his father. She throws up her hands in frustration as Rey kicks out yet again. She stays silent as Dom unties the turnbuckle pad only to walk over to Damien's jacket as the ref retires the pad, from Damian's jacket Dom pulls out a chain. She shakes her head in worry only to be partially relieved as Bad Bunny runs up and snatches the chain out of Dominik's hand.

"Dom look out!" She yells out trying to warn him about Rey behind him who drop kicks him into another 619 set up and a pin. Her face drops as the ref counts to three and Dom is out of the ring by Damien and Finn in front of her. Angie and Aalyah already in the ring celebrating with him having jumped over the barricade. Rey gestures for her to join and she shakes her head no. Finn supports Dom's weight as Damien offers his hand and helps her over the barricade.

"Come with us to the back, Mamita."

"Only to make sure he is ok then I'll go," She responds, ignoring the nickname. They slowly back up the ramp, Nessa looking at Dom worried and looking at the ring betrayed. Once they are backstage and past the gorilla, she is still aware of the cameras following them so she controls her face and walks tall and is almost shocked when Damien speaks again, his deep voice calming to her.

"So, what do you do Mamita?" He asks as they near medical.

"She is a nurse." Dominik groans out the answer supporting more of his weight and Finn starts laughing.

"I'm a charge nurse now for the Pediatric unit at the hospital now Dom."

"Well thanks for your support of our Dom Dom." Nessa hears an Australian accent from behind them as the doctors and nurses check Dom. She turns and sees Rhea and gulps.

"Just wanted to make sure you are ok Dom Dom and to meet this beautiful lady who went against your family to support you." She says as she tucks a loose strand of Nessas hair behind her ear. She can't help the blush that forms. Rhea turns to Dom,

"You do have good taste Dom Dom, I'll see you all after my match" She then turns to Nessa again, "Please stick around till after my match I would like to discuss something with you after." Nessa stands there shocked as Rhea leaves the room.

"Your new girlfriend seems nice." Nessa comments as she watches the medical staff evaluate Dominik. Damien and Finn share the same look as before.

"Well actually we are all together, love." Finn responds and Dom stares at the floor avoiding Nessas gaze.

"Oh that's cool too. Thank you for looking out for him, just make sure you keep each other safe and happy." She accepts what Finn admitted.

"We heard what you said while we were waiting backstage and we admire your loyalty and devotion, mariposa." Damien places his hand on Nessa's shoulder and pulls her into a hug. Her immediate instinct was to pull away but she didn't. It was strangely comforting, even more so when Finn pats her back.

"You're fine Dominic, just going to be sore for a while." The doctor announces before leaving the room. She fiddles with the bracelet again before unclasping it and walking over placing it in Dominik's hand.

"Thank you for letting me be a part of the history of this. It means a lot. Goodbye, Dom." She kisses his cheek and makes her way to the door. She opens it and sees Triple H with his hand raised poised to knock. She steps to the side to let him in to talk to his talent.

"I'm actually here to see you miss?" he leads off silently asking what to call her.

"Klein," she hears a snicker from what she assumes is Damien, "But as you probably know my first name is Nessa." She shakes his outstretched hand.

"I want to talk about what happened out there," He explains and Nessas smile drops to a look of worry and the other three men in the room share the look. Noticing this Triple H clarifies, "You aren't in trouble, but there is business to discuss if you would follow me to my office." he steps aside gesturing for her to come out the room. She nods and follows him out the room as the men of The Judgement Day share a confused look.

[littlexscarletxwitch]

reader meeting Florence’s family? being really nervous cause they’re American and worrying about how they won’t understand the British banter. also wanting to wear long sleeves to cover up their tats for flops parents just in case and flo is like “you’re so cute but you’re an idiot”

── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗱𝗼𝘂𝗯𝘁

paring: florence pugh x gn!reader

tag(s): fluff, established relationship, flo being an amazing gf, short blurb

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited, not proofread, mentions of self doubt (?), overthinking

word count: 959

note: I'm aware that the title is shitty, so is the ending, but I tried my best. I really hope you like it, anon. It's so short is embarrassing and for that I'm sorry. I wrote this with a fem reader in mind, but I think it also works for a gn one. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you guys enjoy <3

requests are open! + check my rules here <3

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but let doubt fill your thoughts.

Your mind was going through every single little flaw that you had. The day had just begun and all you wanted to do was wrap yourself in a blanket and watch tv the whole day. You knew that day was inevitable. You had postponed it for a while now, but Florence wasn’t having that anymore. 

She wasn’t mad at you, she understood how you were feeling. She felt the same way when she met your family. But she knew you had nothing to worry about. Deborah Mackin and Clinton Pugh were the chilliest parents ever in history. I mean her mother got high with Snoop Dogg of all people. And her siblings weren’t a problem, they will like you immediately. She knew you were going to be more than okay. 

“Why can’t we just stay at home?” you said, while looking at the reflection of Florence in the mirror. 

“Y/n…” Florence trailed off, getting closer to you.

“Yeah, let’s just stay, okay? I can make that dish you love, or we could–”

“Babe, stop,” she chuckled at you and grabbed your shoulders, softly squeezing them trying to calm you down. “We’ve already talked about this. You’ll be more than fine, okay? They are going to love you, as much as I love you.”

“Is just…” you were second guessing sharing your worries with her, afraid that you’ll sound stupid.

“What is it?” but she saw right through you, like she always did.

“What if I can’t understand them because of their accent? They’ve been in the UK their whole lives, their accent must be stronger than yours. They probably speak like Louis Tomlinson and I won’t be able to understand anything of what they’re saying.”

“Baby, you’re being silly,” she tried to soothe you.

“I’m not. Have you ever listened to that guy speaking? It’s like he’s speaking gibberish.”

“You’ll understand them. You can understand my mumbling better than no one else, it’ll be okay.”

“Okay, you’re right about that,” but still her words didn’t reassure you. “What if they don’t like me?”

“I’ve been telling them about you since the day we met, they can’t wait to finally meet you. They are going to love everything about you," she left a kiss on your forehead, she knew how much those little kisses soothe you and although you wanted them to work, it only made you more anxious. “Hey, why are you wearing long sleeves? It’s hot outside, baby.”

“I just, I don’t think it is appropriate if I’m showing my tattoos.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“I’m dead serious. I don’t want to give the wrong impression,” Florence just playfully rolled her eyes at you. “What if they think I’m part of a gang or something? That I’m a bad influence, huh?

“You’re so cute, but you’re an idiot. You are the sweetest person I know on earth, there’s no way for you to give a wrong impression. Plus, you’re a ray of sunshine, they can't possible think you are part of a gang” she placed her hand on your cheek and you leaned in her touch, finding some comfort in her warmth. 

“But what if–”

“No, stop it. They are going to love every single little thing about you, and if they don’t I will force them to, but that won’t be necessary.”

“Okay. Yeah, you’re right, everything’s going to be fine. I’m just worrying over nothing,” you breathed out all the anxiety and stress you were holding in. 

“I’m always right,” a cocky smile forming on her lips. 

“That’s debatable,” you chuckled at her. 

“Let’s just go, okay? You ready?”

“Put me in the car before I change my mind,” even though you were joking, Florence knew that you were also telling her the truth. So she rushed the both of you to her car and quickly started the car. 

[...]

“Please, come back soon, okay? We will love to have you again,” Deborah, Florence’s mum, said to the two of you before walking out the door. Your smile only grew bigger at her words. 

“We sure will, Deb,” you called her by the nickname she told you to. You looked over at Florence, a smile as big as yours on her face. 

“It was lovely to finally meet you, Y/n,” Clinton said, getting closer to you to hug you goodbye. 

“The pleasure was all mine.”

“Okay, I’m gonna have to interfere here, before you two take them away from me,” you all chuckled at Florence's words, still she held you from your waist. 

The four of you said your goodbyes, and Florence and you made your way to her car. Once inside, you let out a big laugh, Florence didn’t know what came over you, giving you a confusing look. 

“I can’t believe I was so stupid to avoid this for months, your family is the best,” she smiled at you, relief washing over her. 

“I don’t wanna say I told you so…” 

“You do wanna say I told you so,” you mumbled.

“But I told you so,” she finished, you rolled her eyes at her, trying to hold your smile. But how could you? If she made you so happy by just existing. 

“I love you, Flo,” you said, failing to suppress your smile. 

“And I love you more,” she rested her hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

You rested your hand on hers, grateful that she was right there with you, to reassure you when you doubted, to hold you when you were falling apart, to love you like no one else. You thanked the universe you got to call her yours only.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3

-M

[nightgoodomens]

It was a poor choice of words on Neil's part. Saying he's "perplexed" is like saying the nominations are unfair and that David doesn't deserve to be there if Michael isn't there too. David admitted that he suffers from impostor syndrome, so Neil should have known better. I’m sure it wasn't his intention to bring David down, but nonetheless this was the result. This is definitely NOT what Michael would have wanted, since he’s the one who boosts David's confidence whenever he can. And of course Crowley haters are being assholes in the comments, not that I expected anything different from them. Georgia doesn't seem to give a shit about the nomination... is it that difficult to celebrate the dude for one day? David has a better temper than me, I would have told everyone to fuck off.

It was an awful choice of words.

How do you feel about it? Oh I’m perplexed my bestie Michael didn’t get it, let’s focus on S3 and hope HE gets it for that - that’s how it sounds to me. Thanks Neil, wow.

I’m sad about the whole thing. Yesterday when I heard he was nominated I was SO happy and excited. I thought the love will be pouring left and right. And what happened?

Neil was perplexed, within minutes the fandom just switched to “what about Michael” and Crowley’s and now David’s haters had a field day.

I just wanted one day just for David. One. But of course not. Even on that kind of day someone has to steal the spotlight.

I hope he wins, pulls a Snoop Dogg and thanks himself and only himself. Fuck the rest of them.

[lunastyrs]

Yuu was brought to Twisted Wonderland with their childhood pet as their familiar. Turns out bearded dragons are actual dragons in twisted wonderland. 

A Familiar Pet

~Ramshackle Dorm (during prologue) ~

The headmaster fluttered out the door, abandoning the world traveler to the decrepit building. They open their cloke to the reptile clinging to their chest, at least they had their beared dragon with them.

The building began to creak as rain started vail the outside. Droplets falling on Yuu’s head through the holes in the roof.

“How am I going to keep you warm?” a finger ran across the scales. Yuu’s head tilts, eyes squint taking in the pet that has been with them for the last 5 years.

“Smaug… when did you get wings?”

“GWAH! It's pouring out there!”

A flaming ball shatters one of the few complete windows. The blue-eared cat from earlier skids through the dust piled on the floor.

“Fu–” A tsunami of dust roared toward Yuu, filling their lugs. Coughs rumbled and ricocheted through them, body shaking with each gasp of breath.

“Bwahaha! That look on your face is priceless! Like a bat that got blasted by a water gun.” The jab at his human puffed Smuag up. His claws loosening his hold on their shirt.

“As if I wouldn't just sneak back onto campus the second I escaped pryin' eyes. You all got no idea what I'm capable of-”

A blur of tan slammed into the annoying cat. Hissing. Puffing. Sparking.

Then the ghosts appeared.

—----

With the ghosts and Crowley gone, Yuu turns to the other two creatures in the dorm. A smile stretched across their face as they rushed toward them.

“You’re absolutely amazing!”

Grim shakes his fur out. Crossing his arms with a grin.

“Why, yes, I am.”

Yuu rushes past him to the sleepy tan dragon on the floor.

“Holy shit, you can breathe fire! You impressive little ball of sass! You are an amazing lizard aren't you”

“Hey, human! I can breathe fire too!”

Yuu dead eyes the cat.

“Smaug is mine. Which immediately makes him better than you.”

~Caffatriea ( time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )~

“No Smaug! You already ate 2 raspberries you need to eat the rest of your food.”

The dragon puffs up all two feet of himself. The underside of him darkened.

“Don’t you puff up at me!”

Ace tries to slip another raspberry onto Smuag’s plate. Yuu smacks his hand with a glare. Sparks began to blink in the dragon's mouth.

“No, no, no! No fire!”

~Ramshackel During SDC~

Vil dogges another ember as he enters Ramshackel’s common room.

“Yuu! Your familiar keeps trying to light me on fire.”

Yuu flips to the next page of Professor Crewel’s homework.

“You're the one that placed a curse on anything that is high in sugar”

Amatheth eyes narrow. Painted lips twitch to a frown.

“What does that have to do with Smaug?”

Eyebrows raise as luminescent eyes blink. Yuu tilts their head back to look at Vil.

“That included his berries in the fridge”

An immaculately shaped eyebrow raises as he side-steps more sparks. Yuu sighs and stretches their arms.

“Look, I have been dealing with a pissed-off familiar for the past week. If this makes him easier to handle, I’m going to let it happen. Especially since I can’t give him the berries to behave.”

Yuu stands and turns to Vil. Eyes blazing as a crocked smile full of gritted teeth stretches across their face.

“This could have been avoided, if you uncursed the berries like I asked the first night you all got here.”

[whiskey-bumblebee]

trick for hotch pls!

"It's Halloweeeeeeeeen!" Penelope grins.

Derek just grins and squeezes her shoulder. "How many Long Island ice teas have you had, sweetcheeks?"

Penelope holds up one hand, staring at her fingers, waiting for them to mimic the number she's seeing in her head.

JJ and Emily are already out on the dancefloor, and Spencer had stayed home, so it was just you, Derek, Penelope, and a somewhat out-of-it looking Aaron.

"I should get her home," Derek says.

Penelope starts protesting, but just as she does, Snoop Dogg's 'Drop It Like It's Hot' starts playing, and your arm shoots out to smack Derek in the chest.

"Dance with me? I love this song."

Derek huffs a laugh. "Dance with your man. We gotta get going."

To prove your point, you raise your eyebrows at Derek before looking over at Hotch.

"No," He says firmly.

You look back over at Derek. He sighs. "One song. But Hotch, c'mon man, what's the point in coming to the bar if you're gonna sit there and look miserable?"

Hotch's scowl just deepens.

"Nice costume, by the way."

Aaron adjusts his cat ears self-consciously. It had taken all of your persuasive powers to get him into even those- and since they were dark and the bar was poorly lit, they were barely visible. Aaron took them off nonetheless.

As the bridge starts, you grab Derek's hand, and glance over at Pen.

"We'll be right back, Penny," You grin.

Derek starts swaying from side to side as you lead him to the dance floor. Your face immediately brightens now that you're in happier company.

"What's gotten into Hotch?" Derek shouts over the music.

You shrug. "He didn't want to come out."

Derek laughs. "He's moping because he thought he was gonna get some and he isn't?"

You shrug again. "I don't know. He knows he'll get it later, so who knows."

JJ and Emily join you, and the four of you form the world's smallest dance circle. Emily and JJ whoop as you sway your shoulders, and more importantly, drop it like it's hot. Derek laughs and claps, and you can't help but grin.

"Snooooop!" You laugh. Derek mouths along to the words, and you push him into the dance circle, switching with him. He mouths the words for a line or two, then drops to the floor and starts to do the worm. You, JJ, and Emily all shout in delight, which draws the attention of some pretty women who eye Derek, impressed.

He stands up and dusts himself off, and shakes his head when a sea of phones are extended his way. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as the women disperse, and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

"Have a good night. I'm gonna take my baby home," Derek explains to JJ and Emily. They both nod and give him a quick hug.

"Maybe Hotch will join us once they leave," JJ shouts.

Emily nods.

But as you watch Derek help Penelope out of the booth, and send her a quick wave as they go, Aaron stays squarely in place.

"What's up his ass?" Emily frowns.

You shrug. "Let's just enjoy a few more songs and then I'll take him home."

//////////////////////////////////

Hotch shifts uneasily in the driver's seat.

"We shouldn't do that again," He says sternly.

You eye him playfully.

"So you don't want to do anything when we get home?"

"That's not what I said," He manages a small smile. "I just don't think I'm into wearing a butt plug in front of my subordinates."

You can't help but laugh a little at his delivery, his clipped explanation.

//////////////////////////////

Sure enough, a few minutes later, you're hitting Hotch's prostate and he's whining beneath you, pressing his hips against your hand.

"So pretty," You croon. "In a better mood now?"

"Shut up," He whines.

You wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it slowly. "What was that?"

"I love you," He breathes.

"I thought so," You smile, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. He smiles into the kiss too, working his lips against yours.

And Emily might never know exactly what was up Hotch's ass that night, but she sends you a short email the next morning:

Whatever you did last night, it worked. Just asked Hotch when we need to have these reports in and he said "whenever they're finished." You're doing god's work! We love you <3 :)

[grayriley]

Heineken Vs. Corona Case 2

Relative Branding – What They Mean in the Eyes of the Consumer

Corona – Corona had built a consistent and strong brand in the US which holds to this day of a slightly premium beer which is “Fun” and connected with “Vacation”. They hold this idea with the tradition of a lime in the Corona and tag lines such as “Fun, Sun Beach” or “Vacation in a Bottle”. We can tell this is something they have wanted to stick with because to this day they have Snoop Dogg or Tony Romo drinking Corona on a beach during commercials telling us to “Find Your Beach”.

Heineken – Had an attitude that “if you have a great beer you don’t need to make a fuss”. Their internal team said that there is a mystique around Heineken. This gave off some sense of arrogance to consumers. Their ads are very simple and just show the beer. It is clear their ads are following the “if the beer is good enough you don’t need anything else”.

Weaknesses of Brand

Corona – They have had rumors spread about them that there are quality issues in both the US and European markets damaging customers view of the brand.

Heineken – While Heineken thought that they are the “be all and end all” and have a mystique – it is clearly not a universally held belief. Their brand was humbled when they asked distributors about what they can do better. They will have to build a more consistent and coherent vision of how they want people to see Heineken if they would like to maintain their position.

#MITSloanBranding2024B

[abalidoth]

I was reading about map projections today and I wanted to know your opinions. What’s the best one in your opinion? The worst?

Yoooooo ok this is a super fun question, alright. this is long, so it's below the cut.

so I'm gonna do my typical "nuance-obsessed radical descriptivist" thing and start with: the thing about map projections is that they're tools. We use them to solve the problem of "put sphere onto plane" but the reason we're solving that problem can differ a lot, and so different projections are good for different things.

The first thing I'm gonna call out is Mercator.

Here's my spiciest spicy take:

Mercator is not a bad map projection.

Mercator is a map projection that exists for a very specific purpose, and that is: north is always up, west is always left, northwest is always at exactly 45 degree angles, et cetera. It's the ONLY map projection that has the property that the entire compass rose is 100% correct at every point of Earth's surface (except the poles, which are at infinity on Mercator anyway.) So for travel maps and road maps, it's actually the BEST projection. (Specifically most digital maps -- including Google Maps -- use a modified thing called Web Mercator that's got a few small modifications in it for faster calculation.)

Does Mercator horribly distort the sizes of things when you look at the whole earth? Sure does. But that's not what it's for. That's like complaining that a hammer makes for a lousy table saw.

Ok, now, speaking as a mathematician, my favorite for simplicity and elegance is the stereographic projection.

The stereographic projection is based on a simple idea: set the sphere down on the plane, put a light at the top, and project the Earth onto the plane. In this case, the plane is balanced on top of the Earth and the light is at the South Pole.

Two cool things here: first, this maps all circles to circles, so it's used for maps of the Moon and Mars to accurately show the shapes of craters. Second, this projection idea applied to the complex plane is also the basis for the Riemann sphere, which is a really cool way of representing the complex numbers, and helped me a lot in my complex analysis class during my phd.

My favorite map projection for just looking at the whole Earth, like on a wall, is Boggs eumorphic.

Now I'm gonna throw the order off a little, because I also need to talk about one of my least favorite map projections here: Goode Homolosine.

If you've seen one of these two before, it's almost certainly Goode Homolosine. They both are frequently "interrupted", which is the sort of orange-peel effect that lets you see the landmasses clearly but cuts up the oceans.

Goode Homolosine uses the Mollweide projection close to the poles, then abruptly switches to sinusoidal partway down, leaving ugly bumps in the outline. I do not like this lumpy boi.

Boggs Eumorphic, on the other hand, is a smooth mathematical average of Mollweide and sinusoidal. And it looks BETTER! But for some unfathomable reason, whenever you see an interrupted/"orange-peel" map projection it's usually Goode. But Goode is pretty Badde, while Boggs is Top Doggs.

uh.

where was I?

oh right. The last good map projection I want to talk about is the cutest map projection. If you map all the parallels to equally spaced concentric arcs radiating from the north pole, you get the Werner projection:

IT'S A HEART!!!

And it's equal-area AND equidistant. That wasn't someone going "how do I make the earth look like a heart?" That's just what pops out of the math. MATH LOVES US.

Ok, now to talk about my least favorite. I already bitched about Goode. Let me reiterate: I fucking hate Goode Homolosine.

Now for a less controversial take: Ughhhh gall-peters is terrible.

Going back to my descriptivist leanings, I have to ask: who is this FOR? Sure, it's equal-area, but people who claim it's good because it "doesn't distort the size of Africa" clearly don't know anything except the Mercator projection. It stretches Africa like crazy! The only parallels it looks accurate at are the middle parallels, specifically like the US and Europe, meaning this honestly feels MORE eurocentric than anything! It's pointless, I hate looking at it, it only exists because people are afraid to map things to anything other than a rectangle, I'm moving on.

Van der Grinten: for when you want all the downsides of Mercator without any of the pesky benefits, and it really bothers you that the earth is a circle but maps are square. (Yes, I stole that joke from xkcd. Because I completely agree with it.)

And finally: Collignon.

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AAAAAAAAAAAAA

[aestheticvoyage2023]

Day 278: Thursday October 5, 2023 - "Mornings with William"

Now that we've made the adjustment from weekends to weekday Daddy duty, I have a special responsibility of getting this guy up and to school. After whatever the chaos of September was, William is back to a really good sleep routine again, regularly sleeping in now until about 630-7am. Oh what a difference those 60-90 minutes more of sleep in the morning make, at least on the psyche. But he still wakes up rearing to go, and has lots of opinions on how he wants to start his morning with the first 90 minutes of the day. I've been starting my work day at 7am too, so there is the occassional work call that he has to take care of himself for but I know the tricks for what will keep him entertained for at least 15-20 miniutes. I make the coffee, I make his lunch, I make his breakfast. We're building routines for the morning to go as smoothly as the night and I am figuring out those best steps, settling into this knowing this is going to be long term now. I enjoy it all best I can, and find gratitude when hes let me stay in bed until I am ready. He takes care of potty all by himself, no accidents and does everything he needs to do so that at 8:20am when I am throwing his clothes on and brushing his hair, he is on board. I try to start his day off well - positive, easy, helpful, nurturing. Set him up for success and a good day. The real champ in all of this effort, is him. He lets this thing work with mama being gone, and working with me and trusting me. I love him for it. Being the morning parent- the school parent, is the next role I am growing into and I know that how this feels and works will set a tone for so many years, just like bedtime. It will be a routine he remembers. Important, oh so important to get it right. And its something I am working on each and every morning on our own.

Song: Snoop Dogg & Wiz Khalifa - Young, Wild and Free ft. Bruno Mars

Quote: "Either peace or happiness, let it enfold you. When I was a young man I felt these things were dumb, unsophisticated. I had bad blood, a twisted mind, a precarious upbringing. I was hard as granite, I leered at the sun. I trusted no man and especially no woman... I challenged everything, was continually being evicted, jailed, in and out of fights, in and out of my mind... Peace and happiness to me were signs of inferiority, tenants of the weak, an addled mind. But as I went on...it gradually began to occur to me that I wasn't different from the others, I was the same... Everybody was nudging, inching, cheating for some insignificant advantage, the lie was the weapon and the plot was empty... Cautiously, I allowed myself to feel good at times. I found moments of peace in cheap rooms just staring at the knobs of some dresser or listening to the rain in the dark. The less I needed the better I felt... I re-formulated. I don't know when, date, time, all that but the change occured. Something in me relaxed, smoothed out. I no longer had to prove that I was a man, I didn’t have to prove anything. I began to see things: coffee cups lined up behind a counter in a cafe. Or a dog walking along a sidewalk. Or the way the mouse on my dresser top stopped there with its body, its ears, its nose, it was fixed, a bit of life caught within itself and its eyes looked at me and they were beautiful. Then...it was gone. I began to feel good, I began to feel good in the worst situations and there were plenty of those... I welcomed shots of peace, tattered shards of happiness... And finally I discovered real feelings of others, unheralded, like lately, like this morning, as I was leaving for the track, I saw my wife in bed, just the shape of her head there...so still, I ached for her life, just being there under the covers. I kissed her in the forehead, got down the stairway, got outside, got into my marvelous car, fixed the seatbelt, backed out the drive. Feeling warm to the fingertips, down to my foot on the gas pedal, I entered the world once more, drove down the hill past the houses full and empty of people, I saw the mailman, honked, he waved back at me." ~Charles Bukowski

[dzpenumbra]

4/19/23

I have had this thing lately (the past few years) where I will write paragraphs and paragraphs - reddit comments, replies or whatever the fuck they call them on here, shit like that - and... my process, when I'm not doing stream of consciousness like this, is to proofread... and then add more... and then proofread... and then add more. And it turns into a fucking like 3 hour ordeal and like 2.5 pages of commentary. And then... I usually delete it. I usually go... "someone is just going to write one fucking typo riddled autocorrected sentence and pick a fucking fight with me without even reading what I said, its not even goddamn worth it." And, unfortunately, enough goddamn times... that's been correct. Enough for compulsively deleting draft after draft and then never posting anything to become an engrained habit. Thanks a lot, Reddit. Really appreciate it.

I'm typing this because I spent the last hour and a half drafting a reply I was writing on someone else's journal on here. Tumblr limits your reply length, so... I just... kept rewriting and rephrasing, trying to optimize the space and communicate all the thoughts I had. And... I couldn't. And by the end, I was just worried that... I was just worried that me commenting on the journal would just kinda upset her or make her anxious, so I backed off. I feel bad. It's my problem, my anxiety, and I really just wanted to reassure her that like... it's not her fault. I just really wanted to be the reassuring, kind, pat-on-the-back voice for someone that I have needed so many times in identical situations to what she's going through. So, if she's reading this... you didn't do anything wrong. He needs to work with someone to manage his emotions. Therapy would be good, or a good friend. But he needs to seek that out, and he really should be communicating better with you, and it's super not fair that he's blaming your actions for him reliving his past pain. Those two things are tangentially related, not directly, and that is very often confused by a shocking number of people. If an individual chooses to avoid their triggers and not deal with the emotions, that's their own choice to make, but the second they start going around policing the innocent behaviors of others? And blaming their actions for the tangential pain it caused them? That's... that's not fuckin healthy, dogg. That's nooot gooooood.

And... I suck at confrontation and setting boundaries... so... I really don't know how to give advice for that. What I would try if I had a girlfriend who was dealing with this... would be to say: "Look, I know the location brings up bad memories. I would never pressure you to go there yourself. But our friends are insisting I go because it's like... a tradition kinda thing... so how about when I go to that, you do something special for yourself, something fun that you look forward to, special 'you-time' kinda shit. Treat yo self. Then, when I get home, we can do something fun together, or if you need to process and work through any emotions or memories that might've come up and need someone to commiserate on how much of a piece of shit those people were to you and how it still hurts, I've got your back."

That's how I would deal with it. And if they still blamed me after that and told me I was not allowed to go to that location because me going to that location was "causing them pain"... and that meant I was causing them pain? I would strongly consider leaving the relationship. At very least setting a huge bold neon boundary there and let them know that attempting to control my behaviors as a way of avoiding processing their own feelings... is... not on the table.

Sorry for the... bit of a context-less tangent there. It was a very relatable situation for me. From both sides, unfortunately. I have always been intensely emotional, and I have not always been as... skillful... as I am now. It has been years and years and years of grueling, intense work. But I can really say, the work does pay off.

Today, I woke up after 4 hours of sleep. My upstairs neighbor was listening to action movies at a decently high volume at 10AM like right the fuck above my bed. And again, I ran into the same night-shift insomniac quandary I have run into my entire adult life. When you go to bed at 5 AM, regardless of whether it's a work-related, mental health-related or biophysical-related cause for that circadian rhythm... you can reliably expect for people to NOT be compassionate towards your desire for a quiet sleeping environment before noon. I have run into this many times over the past 5 years. Blasting explosions and gunfire and muffled screaming above the bedroom of an insomniac with PTSD - who wakes up wide-eyed, heart racing, still clutching the staff they went to sleep holding for a sense of security - on a Tuesday morning at 10AM is a basic human right. HOWEVER, walking around on creaky floorboards at 4AM is you being an inconsiderate asshole. <sighs>

I have no idea if it's because these people just don't care about keeping quiet? If they're college kids or city folk or just... oblivious or don't give a shit or something? I mean, it's just really hard for me to process the mindset of someone who moans really loud while having sex at like 10PM on a weeknight in an apartment building. Like... you know people are gonna hear you, right? They just don't care, right? The whole mindset is just so... alien to me. How can you care that little about how your actions impact others?

In an odd way, I'm kinda jealous. How liberating that must feel.

My running theory is... maybe it's because they're on the top floor. They don't have an upstairs neighbor. Sound does seem to travel down more than through the walls, and I've rarely heard my downstairs neighbors more than just an occasional loud cough. Maybe they aren't aware of how much sound carries downstairs because they have no one upstairs? I don't know.

Either way... I got some cereal, curled up in the comfy chair, popped in the AirPods with the noise cancelling on and tried to nap. I woke up like 3 or 4 times. But I got some sleep. Yoga was intense today, but I was mostly able to keep up.

Here's the really good news. I got a ton of work done on the desire path project today. A fuckin butt-ton. I got the camera glitches sorted out. I got the video rendered in 3 different shots. A panning intro shot following the paths. A wide shot of the paths growing. A close-up of a diverging desire path forming. All the video came out great. I got it all put into the video editor, I added in the camera shake which really brought more life to it, really glad I figured that out. Then I programmed all the crossfades I needed. I even went and filmed some replacement cinematic shots in Minecraft without any of the HUD shit to show off the shrines. They look real slick with the shaders and everything.

The video is now mostly done... the only pieces left are... About 3 minutes of raw hiking footage, which would be pretty cool as like... a time lapse? Maybe several different trail walks spliced together to keep it interesting? Gonna have to reserve a car and get up early for that. And... this other section where I was talking about the precursor ideas to what I ended up going with... where I was discussing making rudimentary AI and having them explore a topographical map... then replacing the AI with me using a ballpoint pen. And I settled on my way of presenting this being... me illustrating what I'm talking about in the VO as though I'm drawing it on a whiteboard, and animating that. Like I'm drawing it in real-time. And then the whiteboard shit can actually come to life, which is cool.

So... those are the next steps - hike and whiteboard animation. Whiteboard animation will likely be first, because my sleep schedule has been totally fucked. But if I can pick a nice day and just reserve the car and say "no matter how little sleep I get that night, I'm driving 20 minutes over to that national park and filming", I guarantee I will have a great day and it will be worth it. Just have to overcome the anxiety of driving while not 100%, which has been plaguing me for years and years and years. When a friend loses their sister to a car crash like 50 yards from their house, and you lived like... right down the street from that? And drove down that road past that spot every day? It sticks with you, you know?

The rest of the video is just cosmetic shit, like a credits page (which would be just... literally everything made by me...) or like... a little nudge for people to go over to my barren neglected Patreon. It's worth putting in there.

So yeah, that was basically it. I had 2 avocados and 3 baked potatoes with butter, salt, pepper, green onion, sour cream and a mix of pepper jack and habanero jack cheese on em for dinner, and it was great. And I watched a bit of a Red Dead RP stream in the background. And that was the day. And now I'm fucking wiped, so... I'm off to bed! Hopefully I don't get woken up by really loud TV for the 3rd day in a row. You're welcome, downstairs neighbor, for me literally always wearing headphones with my PC and my TV.

[lizzygrantarchives]

GQ, September 19, 2011

"My look? I'm going for 'I live in Monaco but don't f*** with me'," laughs Lana Del Rey. A delightful combination of wide-eyed naivety and trash-talking savvy, the 24-year-old New Yorker (born Lizzie Grant) is dressed in vintage high-waisted jeans by Versace and a folksy horse-print jumper when GQ.com meets her in London's Soho. Currently riding a colossal wave of hype thanks to viral hit "Video Games", Del Ray is slowly adjusting to her life in the spotlight: "I'm always just surprised when someone writes something about me" she says guilelessly. Here she talks about admiring Kurt Cobain, dancing like Snoop Dogg and asking the "invisible whoever" for advice...

Which question are you bored of answering already?

I'm a little embarrassed by the "gangster Nancy Sinatra" thing. That was supposed to be a joke. No one listened to anything I did for eleven million years so I put all this stuff up on my Facebook page, [but I was] just kidding. You know how these things happen - if a big blog prints something about you then everyone just takes it. I remember one day I had eleven Google Alerts about it…

Are you more comfortable with the whole David Lynch association?

I would have been more comfortable with it if it had been something that was only mentioned a few times. But of course the David Lynch tip is not a bad way to go, is it? I didn't really know he was an influence but when I was 17 I kept singing in bars and everyone kept coming up to me saying, [adopts quizzical hipster tone] "Are you a fan of David Lynch?" I looked it up and realised that basically everyone thinks I'm a f***ing weirdo. I think it was because I was singing about disturbing things while being sort of happy.

Can you describe the way you dance?

I drop it like it's hot. You should come to my show. My dancing is Hawaiian-inspired but I also get a little fresh when it comes to my faster songs. I get down. Literally. You'll see. [laughs]

Which British man do you think has great style?

I would have to jump on the Mark Ronson bandwagon. [adopts indeterminate "British" accent] He always looks really noice.

Which lyric are you most proud of?

There was an older song that you've never heard called "Pawn Shop Blues". [sings] "In the name of higher consciousness / I let the best man I met go / Because it's nice to love and be loved but it's better to know all you can know." Because I remember I'd met someone so special and famous but I knew he wasn't enlightened about how to be a good person. I knew it would get in the way of me becoming a nice person. That's a difficult choice to make.

What's your hangover cure?

I don't drink. I used to a long time ago. I used to drink a lot, but that was seven years ago now. It's something I still think about all the time but I'm much safer without it.

How did you meet this famous person?

Um, it was in a self-help group. [laughs]. He wasn't that famous. I just thought he was famous…

TV famous or movie star famous?

Rock star famous. Just middle of the road ish. To me he was famous because I didn't know anyone who was wildly recognisable. I remember thinking it was exciting at the time.

Do you get chatted up a lot?

By boys, you mean? Yes! I do. [giggles]

Do they hope you're going to sing about them?

Maybe so. I think the musicians do. The rest of them just hope I'll be their girlfriend. [squeals with delight] People are really talkative in New York. Someone always comes up to me and says hi during the day. I always say, "Oh, it's nice to meet you, thank you, but I'm actually married." Then I've had a lot of people say, "But are you happy?" I think that's the creepiest question. It's funny, but nothing is f***ing sacred!

You're a huge Nirvana fan. How exited are you by the Nevermind reissue?

Well, I'd have to say I'm not that excited because I already have everything. Bootlegs? No, I have all the stuff regular people would. But I mean, on a scale of one to ten how excited am I about ever having heard them and loving them? Just off the charts. Come to think of it, the first music video I ever saw was "Heart-Shaped Box" on MTV when I was eleven. It wasn't even the music at first, it was just him. [deep breath] Him is enough - totally. [smiles]. Two nights ago I watched Live At Reading, which I never saw [before]. I was sitting there watching it with my friend. It's weird when you see something that you have never seen about someone you love. It's like finding a gem. You don't want it to end.

Can you recommend a good book?

Think And Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill - that will help you. I'm listening to audio books now. I've actually been listening to newscasts on this new movement in biology of creating human life through synthetic chemical compounds. I couldn't believe that was really happening.

What's the oddest request you've had from fans?

I've gotten strange messages. I've had people be really persistent - asking me where I'll be all the time and can they come and just meet up. You know, you get it all. But it was kind of the same fanbase for a really long time since I was 17. I can honestly say it's only in the last three months that there have been more people at all who have listened to me. There are new fans out of nowhere, which is strange. I've gotten poetry - it's good too. Are there lots of "sweater / better" rhymes? No, that's all me. [laughs] I can't believe that's the one you like.

What was the first hip-hop record you became obsessed with?

The first Biggie Smalls track that I really loved I would say, just like everyone else, was "Juicy". I realised what cool was. I wasn't that young - I was 15 and my best friend at school, who is still my best friend today, was actually my teacher. He was a white English teacher who played basketball and listened to hip-hop. I didn't know what everyone thought was cool. He played Biggie Smalls for me in his car. I didn't really know that there was that space for storytelling in songs. I thought, "Everything I thought I could do, I was right about." You could keep it really smart. Some of the people I met were pretty traditional and I was [already] singing some sort of weird things pretty young.

The video for "Kinda Outta Luck" features a number of well-dressed men. What should every man have in their wardrobe?

I guess it does - I've never thought about that! That's a good question. I go for almost everything because I'm jumping worlds a lot. I like a good suit - Scott Disick-style. I like the whole pocket-square style but I also like getting back to basics - the wife-beater and jeans.

What's the most important item on your rider?

I don't have a rider. [giggles] I'm not that demanding. In New York I pretty much live in diners - I order French Fries, Diet Coke floats and lots of coffee. In New York, The Waverly is a good place to be if you want to relax because of its big, sparkly red booths.

Have you ever fired a gun?

Only a few times. I'm much worse than I thought. My uncle takes me to the shooting range sometimes - just a rifle and a handgun. It's really loud too. Last time the shells were flicking back and skimming my face - I thought, "Jesus Christ!" I think if I was a little stronger I'd get into it.

How many tattoos do you have?

I only have one. [reveals small design on her hand] It was scarily unpainful. I looked away and then looked back and it was there. I thought, "You can do a lot of bad things in one second that you can't take back." I did it five years ago. I think by the time I die I'll only have one more.

What music do you love that would surprise people?

I don't have that many guilty pleasures because I don't like that many things. It's hard to say what people think of you - my tastes haven't changed. I've listened to the same thing since I was 15. I've been listening to film scores lately because that calms me down. Particularly Thomas Newman's score for American Beauty - it's just sick.

You're up on the ceiling covered in roses?

Yeah, in my mind! [laughs]

How important is religion to you?

Like so many people, they always state the difference between faith and religion. The faith that I've come to find is a science of my own through lots of trials and errors. I've been through so many different walks of life that I've needed to ask a lot of questions that no human power can answer. I've had to seek a lot of guidance. I've had to pray a lot because I've been in trouble a lot. But it's not until you do that that you realise there are answers out there to be found.

What's the best piece of advice you've ever received?

To thine own self be true. Seek and ye shall find. There's a science to prayer, I would say. I think sometimes when you're really faced with a huge life dilemma or problem and you've turned to every sort of thing for answers, sometimes the last resort is to pray and to put out a question to the universe in your mind. Even when you put your question out there, you ask that invisible whoever "What do I do?" you sort of get answers; you forget the problem all over again.

Who, in your opinion, is overrated?

I wouldn't answer that even if I knew! Everyone? [laughs] I can think of many people. As Fran Lee said, "Just because you feel entitled to share your life with everyone doesn't mean you should do so." [pauses, smiles] Such a bitchy thing to say...

Originally published on gq-magazine.co.uk with the headline GQ&A: Lana Del Rey.

[mingzisdrgongxuo]

that's odd. i don't hear the housekeeper's cart. so it's not them stomping around being rude, trying to make waves....

just the wiggers from the past two nights.

why are they trying to play "tune-in tokyo?"

can you not function right if you're not like some dog choking on their leash? doesn't your dogg know how to heal?

same as fucking tweakers, they don't like mellow or relaxing or "chill", everything needs to be overtorqued and wound up like a child's toy.

what's it to you? is it messing up your prostitution or meth/cocaine peddling?

am i supposed to blame my sister?

or that same joto from the family, needing to stir up shit because he feels powerless, i dunno, maybe it's because he's not king of the family, or does not control anybody else's money to make people obey him.

are you lost without knowing what i'm thinking? stupid dog trying to flush out fox-holes making waves and disturbing the peace, for signs of life?

or do you get mad when i don't write crazy stuff? why? do you need it to feel better about your own problems?

personally, i think that says something about you.

do you need it the way politicians need each other to look bad, so you can have an arguement or an accusation to win?

do you feel "threatened" when you see me making friends or being normal? how is that a threat to you? were they supposed to be your friends instead of mine?

my sister is married and lives out of state. but i don't check up on her. i respect her privacy and her rightful boundaries, unlike SOMEBODY. she could be living in my old house for all i know. but what would that prove, on what manpower or resources?

to make enemies for no reason as the final endgame?

if i never returned she would have a bigger inheritance instead of only half of it. is that what you need to win? planting seeds of suspicion, distrust or doubt, just to see if you can? how righteouss. i don't exactly like thinking this stuff. you gonna screenshot or forward this to her? or is she capable of spying on me or being dishonest about her role in this equation just fine since that's the illusion you want to paint. and then there's what she inherits from me as next of kin. way more than what my was divided between my parents. does that motivate her to keep me alive?

my sister has been nothing but good to me, and a friend, she's been there in my times of need and helped at everything life throws at it. i cannot dispute any of that. i also cannot think of a time in either of our lives when i acted against her or did anything unforgiveable that would motivate or provoke ill will.

i don't appreciate some mind felcher trying to give me the 3rd degree while in contempt of their own court.

my stepmother used to speak openly in front of us, and talk all kinds of shit about her mom, "when is she going to hurry up and die". were my stepmother's words about her own mom.

the "how to host a murder" roleplaying party game, similar to clue, was a nice touch.

i don't know what that meant, i just remember the circumstances, and what my dilemma was at the time. red flag is all i know and i'm not just shrugging it off. i have to think about it if somebody else already is.

are you faulting me for not ruling anybody out when my quality of life, survival, or longevity is at stake? it's nothing against you. it's against everybody. especially those i have loose ends and unresolved shit from my past about, including previous life-threatening, documented, on-record emergencies. i survived and still live to talk about it. is that a problem for you?

this fagmob courtesy of mother's brother is no better. should have just broke your silence if you know something, instead of trying to play me against her. you sure as fuck aren't there for either of us, and plenty of time, resources, travel and money spent, to be there AGAINST us.

all up in my shit 24/7, do you have time to investigate or be up in anybody elses shit 24/7?

fuckin' wiggers back at it, playing shitty music.

why should i even feed your dialog with a complaint.

your dj/pa speakers aint shit. i don't hear you, it doesn't impress or intimidate me, no rhythm, can't keep a beat. can't dance to the shit. how do you even fuck to this garbage? black without soul. ignorant fool. go ahead and shit on the community while you try to impress your non-binary friends. don't even waste your weed on this buzzkill. wait until somebody else has shit to say about you. the mirror you hold up that you've been saving for a rainy day doesn't mean shit.

go live outside, homeless, no shelter. no running water, no sink, no mirror, no shower, no ac in the summer, no heat in the winter, eat nothing but the garbage you find in the trash cans. five years, outside, no days off. no friends, no "homeboys", no backup or support, noone watching your back, plenty of people looking to stab you in it though. noone gives one fuck about you. everybody is your enemy. everybody wants you out of your sight, kids arrange bum fights tries to entrap you over petty shit, and steals from your homeless ass because they think it makes them cool, and makes life generally unpleasant for you.

does it further their career? does it make them the bigger man or better person? i doubt it.

what do you think you have energy or patience for with people? how long did you have to wait for some spineless sociopath piece of shit to stop fighting with you, before you're "allowed" to live in peace?

must be church crusaders huh.

funny how word travels, and attitudes and behaviors change. it's almost as if they monitor my tumblr activity.

for what? in case i badmouth the landlord, (as if you dont... ) so you can screenshot my words and show them how two-faced you are.. and what a "true friend" you are to them? trying to take what i say and use it against me, as if you're mirandizing me?

is this the positivity that you're "all about"?

and you're not punished for seeking negativity or trying to manifest it, huh?

why should i give you power? you already have power, or are in power, why should i give you any? i remember what it's like to be cold hungry and alone with no shelter. i know what it's like to watch you feast and bitch about your have-nots, while i'm eating garbage, without a word from me. where somebody can just walk up to you, rob you blind or shank you in your sleep and noone gives a fuck even if they see you do it. you don't give me power, you try to take what power i have away from me. why the fuck should i give you power?

why are you watching the parking lot so intensely dickhead? are playing backup for the wigger party?

you sure are a slave over your thoughts concerning me. when do you have time to actually investigate anything, your too busy trying to get a rise out of me everyday, like your little dick depends on it.

there. words. do you feel like you have power now, that you don't have over people?

[trapangeles]

Tap'n With Singer Zharia Amel

Tell us about your story and how you got to where you are?

My name is Zharia Amel, I’m a 16-year-old female pop singer/songwriter from Compton, California. Singing has been my first love and passion my whole life and growing up in Compton there isn’t much representation for my genre of music.So that only fueled my fire to pursue my music career and here I am doing what I love and representing my city. 

What has been your biggest obstacle in your journey as an artist?

My biggest obstacle in my journey would have to be staying focused because there are so many responsibilities I have outside of music as far as high school, getting into college and playing sports, but I always find a way to persevere and find balance at the end of the day. My music career is something I genuinely want to pursue, so, I refuse to let anything stand in the way of that. What lessons have you learned?

I’ve learned that with hard work and consistency anything is possible and to jump and take a risk on whatever it is your passionate about because life is way to short to assume the worst in something you’ve never done or tried.

Tell us about your music; how would you describe your sound?

My debut single, Töxic, is a fun summer pop record but it touches a sensitive subject in a way that’s empowering and positive at the same time. My sound has a pop feel with a touch of my west coast background. My sound shows a lot of my personality in ways that are hard for me to express without music. My mother and I write all of my music together and our ideas and sounds together are something we like to call top tier. Songwriting together is something we take a lot of pride in, and in a way, this strengthened our mother-daughter bond.

What other artists would you compare yourself to?

I don’t like comparing myself to other artists because I want to remain as authentic as possible, but I would compare myself to Ariana Grande, or Doja Cat.

If you could work with any artists, who would you choose?

I would love to work with Travis Scott,Doja Cat,The Weeknd, Billie Eillish, Kendrick Lamar, Snoop Dogg and so many more.

What sets you apart from other artists?

What sets me apart from other artists is my youth and Compton background, because although I make pop music, my city really does influence my sound in many ways that we don’t get to see in pop music today.

What should we know about your work?

You should know that my work comes from a place of love and compassion for who I am and where I come from.

What are your plans for the future?

My plans for the future are to continue to grow as an artist and really branch out as a songwriter as well as building businesses.

What motivates you, or keeps you going?

What motivates me is my deep rooted love for music,my family, and my city. Growing up in such a rural city it’s hard to stay motivated and seek a better lifestyle for myself other than what’s around me but I try everyday to embrace it and do what I love regardless.

Tell us something that might surprise people about you.

I have stage fright from time to time, but every time I hit the stage I refuse to ever back down or let fear and anxiety run my life, even if I don’t perform well. I can still say I did it and perform even better the next time, so it’s really mindset.

How do you define success?

I define success by fulfilling your biggest dreams and aspirations, even overcoming your fears, because you only live once and settling down. Living a life of regret is worse than being unsuccessful, in my opinion.

Tell us about any projects or music you have coming out.

I have a new record, FRIENDZ coming out very soon. This song has a very west coast Compton feel to it. I wrote this song to really express where I come from. I sing and rap about my struggles with friendships as well. This song is definitely going to be a trailblazer and the music video is gonna be a big eye opener of who I am and represent LA in the best way.

What do you want people to know about you? Anything else you want mentioned?

I want people to know that what I do is so much more than music. I can show younger kids from Compton that fulfilling your dream is possible from any circumstance or adversity in their lives if they work hard and do what they genuinely love to do with no fear attached.

How can people find you and contact you?

You can find me Zharia Amel on all platforms

Tiktok:

https://www.tiktok.com/@zhariaamel4

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/zhariaamel/

Töxic:

https://songwhip.com/zhariaamel/toxic

YouTube:

https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCpcDo36OLKEwckgskHAoWeA

Contact me through email: zhariaclausell@gmail.com

[fandom-puff]

Manhunt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Requested by: anon ‘Hey, I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a Tommy Shelby fic where y/n gets kidnapped, please? Maybe Tommy’s getting extremely angry and worried and only calms down when he gets her back. Of course it’s up to you. Female reader if possible. Thank you so much :)’

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, swearing, injury (result of knife, beatings)

Bold italics = flashback

Gif creds to owner

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” Polly demanded from her desk, arms folded and lips pursed as Tommy stumbled through the door.

“Ah, let him be, Pol,” Arthur grinned, clapping him on the back. “Reckon his head’s still on his honeymoon. Been stuck in bed with the missus all morning, eh, brother?”

Tommy smirked boyishly. “No. Fuckin’ car broke down. Anyway, YN left ours hours ago, said she was seeing Ada before she buggers back off to London,”

At that moment, Ada walked through the door, holding one of John and Esme’s kids on her hip, bouncing him gently. “I haven’t seen YN today, Tom. Didn’t show up to our reservation in that nice cafe. Haven’t heard from her, so I just thought she was with you,”

Tommy frowned deeply. “But... she left at half eight to catch the bus. I told her I’d give her a lift but she said she needed to run a few errands before she met up with you,” he checked his pocket watch quickly. “It’s gone noon. Are you lot sure you haven’t heard from or seen her?”

“Tom, it’s fine, she’s probably just caught up in the shops or something,” John said, lighting a cigarette.

“No. It’s not fucking fine, Johnboy. She left at half eight this morning, stood Ada up in her favourite cafe- and she’s been going on about it for weeks- and no one has seen hide nor hair of her for hours. Something’s wrong,”

Jaw set harshly, Tommy strode out of the betting shop, closely followed by his brothers. “Oi! Finn. Run and tell Sergeant Moss that I said to have a search party out. Tell him YN’s missing. Then on your way back, go to Charlie’s yard and tell him to keep an eye on the canals for her, alright. Good lad,” Finn nodded and began to run as fast as his legs would carry him.

“What about us, Tommy?” Arthur said. “Tell us what to do,”

***

Slowly, your eyes opened, though you still couldn’t see anything- a length of fabric covered your eyes, blocking out all light. Every inch of your body ached, and you became vaguely aware of the stinging sensation at your wrists- they were bound behind your back, the tightly knitted rope rubbing your skin raw. Judging by the slight jostling movement of your body and the hum of an engine below you, you were in a vehicle, being driven god knows where.

Deciding to keep quiet, you took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, trying your hardest to recall the previous hours...

***

“I’ll see you later, Tom,” you smiled, giving your grinning husband a final kiss goodbye before setting off to the bus stop. Tommy had offered you a lift, but you declined, saying something about errands and scenery. It was an alright day, by British standards, the sun trying its hardest to peak through the thin clouds.

You were halfway to the bus stop when you felt a presence behind you. Hurrying your steps a little more, knowing the old gentleman from the village would likely be at the stop for his weekly shop, if you could just get around this bend, you dared a look behind you, before colliding head on with something- or rather someone.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” you said, making to step around him, but his arms shot out, grasping onto you while the man behind you yanked a fistful of your hair, tugging your head backwards.

“Don’t you worry, Shelby,” he said, a slight accent lacing his low voice. “You will be,”

You tried to stamp your heels down on the attackers’ shins, you made to bite the hands closest to your face, to wriggle as much as you could. As you began to scream, a damp cloth was held over your nose and mouth, making your eyes roll back and your body slacken, allowing the two men to drag you to their vehicle, hidden by the shrubbery and blossoming trees and the loud caws of the birds.

***

Tommy was in full panic mode. He had Peaky Blinders scouring the whole of Birmingham, Sergeant Moss had managed to telephone the London police and have a telegram sent to every constabulary in the country to keep an eye out. Johnny Doggs had the Lee boys out, and Charlie was stopping every boat the passed through the cut.

Tommy kicked the table in the betting shop, sending papers and coins flying. “Where the fuck is she?” He roared, eyes flashing with some anger, but mostly fear.

“We’re doing everything we can, Thomas,” Polly said firmly, patting her nephews back and pushing a cup of tea into his hands. “It’s well sugared. You need the energy,”

“It’s not fucking enough!” He yelled, taking one sip of the tea before slamming the cup down, sloshing the table. “She could be anywhere and we’re sat here like idiots!”

Polly sighed, retreating to man the phone, waiting for someone, anyone to phone with knowledge of your whereabouts.

“It’ll be alright, brother,” John said. “Esme’s down with the Lees making sure none of them are sat twiddling their thumbs. Moss has every copper in Birmingham on the case. Even the London coppers are looking for a Shelby, and their almost all under Solomons and Sabini,”

Tommy was quiet for a moment before he looked between his brothers. “Solomons and Sabini...” he said slowly, processing the information before his face hardened.

“Solomons is a mad bastard,” Arthur said quietly.

“Right. Car, now. We’re going to London,”

***

The blind fold was removed, but you still couldn’t see much. One of your eyes was swollen shut, and the room you were in was plunged in almost complete darkness. Your hands were still tied, only now they (along with your ankles) were bound to a chair. You tried to shuffle the chair along, but it made a loud grating scraping noise, and caused a blinding pain to shoot through your nerves. Something was definitely broken.

“Shelby,”

The voices echoed around the room as you heard the men draw closer, their footsteps rapping sharply against the concrete ground. You strained your good eye, trying to make out their faces, but you could only make out vague face shapes, plunged in shadows.

“I told you, I don’t have any information!” You said urgently, preparing yourself for another punch or kick.

It didn’t come. Instead you felt the cold edge of a thin blade pressing against your swollen cheek. He dragged the blade slowly and you hissed as your cheek bloomed with stinging pain, feeling your hot blood trickle down your face and neck.

“We don’t want information,” the other man said lowly as you felt the tip of the knife press against your neck briefly. You held your breath, preparing for the worst, before the blade dropped. You let out a shaky breath of relief, which quickly turned into a groan of pain as a thick finger dragged along the fresh wound. “We don’t need one of Shelby’s whores for information,” you shut your eyes tightly, willing your tears not to fall. “We want to destroy Tommy Shelby,”

***

“Thomas! Thomas! Stop the fucking car now!”

The car squealed to a halt and Tommy almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. “This had better be good, Pol,” he growled, grabbing hold of the phone. “Speaking,”

“That you, Tommy?”

Tommy gritted his teeth. “Aye, Solomons. Make it quick. I’ve no time for business now,”

“Yeah, I know, right. Right fuckin’ fuss you’ve kicked up, yeah. Looking for that wife of yours, I heard. Well, Tommy, my coppers have been out and about , right, searchin’ high and fuckin’ low. Found nothin’ right,”

“Alfie,” tommy hissed. “I’m on my way down to London, now. If you’ve got no information, I don’t wanna hear any of your fuckin’ stories, alright?”

“Oi, you watch your tone, Tommy. I’m getting there. See now, Ollie’s missus’s got a friend whose friend is the wife of a fuckin’ wop, right. She says, right, that your wife, YN, had been on Sabini’s fuckin’ hit list from the very start. He’s got his coppers trying to dismiss this ever so mysterious disappearance, right. But my coppers, yeah, Tommy, you followin’?”

“I’m following,” tommy said through gritted teeth.

“Right, well my coppers have received a tip off from one of Sabini’s coppers that there’s some funny business going on in the old abandoned warehouse, you know the one, the one up in Cheltenham, what the anarchists set fire to,”

“You sure, Alfie?”

“Course I’m fuckin’ sure. Off you go, Tommy,”

***

How long you had been on the floor for, you had no idea. Your arms and legs were no longer bound- not that it made any difference. You couldn’t move without a fresh round of pain turning your stomach. Tears mixed with blood on your cheeks; you could barely keep your eyes open; you lay next to a pool of your own vomit due to the pain; your clothes were soaking with your own blood and urine; you were ready to die.

***

Gunshots. Three of them.

Three voices shouting, although you couldn’t distinguish what they were saying.

The door swung open, flooding the room with light. You made to lift your head up off the floor, but sobbed in agony.

“Fuckin’ hell!”

“YN, it’s alright, I’m here! They’re gone, I’ve got you,”

You felt the familiar warm hands on your body, the strong arms lifting you, the distinct smell. But you couldn’t open your eyes- you were simply too tired.

“Tommy...” you breathed, one hand bunched up in his coat.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you help, okay, my love. Don’t you worry one bit, okay?”

You nodded, trusting your eyes to shut, knowing that this time, tommy would be there to shake you awake, preventing you from giving into the darkness.

[starlessea]

Here Comes the Sun: XX. More Than A Feeling (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6480

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, Injury.

Your head pounded like an alarm clock you couldn't shut off. The explosions hadn't done any favours for your tinnitus, either. The high-pitched ringing noise was constant, and only intensified the more you tried not to focus on it. Even now that everything had settled down, it still seemed like you could hear walls crashing around you, or feel the vibrations as the stone crumbled and settled at your feet.

Except, it wasn't brick walls that were sending shock waves over the ground; it was Daryl's footsteps as he paced. You could feel them through your own boots, and sent him a look to try and coax him to sit down. 

"It's a sprained ankle, Daryl. I didn't lose my leg." You said gently, before someone cleared their throat.

You looked down at Hershel, who was in the process of wrapping the bandages, and winced as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, awkwardly.

Everything had gone mostly to plan. The governor and his men had been driven away, and the others had returned from Woodberry with even more survivors. You hadn't gotten the chance to see them yet, but the ruckus drifted up the stairs and you could feel the marching of the stampede as though they had been part of the army themselves.

The prison remained standing, albeit missing a watchtower and seeming a bit dilapidated in a few places - but your home was once again yours. You'd sacrificed so much for it. Lori, T-Dogg, Axel, Oscar, and Merle had all lost their lives just so that you could sit here now, complaining of flesh-wounds and mild injuries like they were the most perilous problems you could face.

Daryl didn't seem to agree, however, and narrowed his eyes at you - or more specifically, at the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd taken a bit of a fall, but it wasn't like you'd cracked it open. Though, that didn't stop the man from treating you like Humpty Dumpty - trying to fix all of your pieces despite them not actually being broken.

"I don' care!" Daryl yelled, and you felt Hershel flinch as he made another pass with the bandages.

The man slung his crossbow onto the mattress, and you felt the bed dip beside you from the weight of it. His face was all scrunched up into a scowl, and you wanted nothing more than to hold it in your hands and bring his cheek to yours.

"What the hell d'ya try an' pull tha' for?" He asked, but this time his voice had lost its fight. "You could've gotten yerself killed." Daryl said quietly, like it almost killed him to say, too.

The older man stayed silent as he continued to do his job, and you felt guilty for having let him get caught up in this. 

"But I didn't." You reminded Daryl, before shooting a light-hearted smile his way. "Certain victory, remember?"

Your eyes glanced down to his hand, and at the shoddily drawn rune you'd given him with a sharpie earlier in the day. He didn't say anything back, but his pacing had stopped - and he looked straight at you as you spoke.

"And although the governor got away, don't you think he'll be easier to find with a bullet in his shoulder?"

If you had anything to show for your injuries, at least it was that. You offered a teasing smirk to the man - one that probably made him wonder if you had a concussion.

"I think I know a pretty good tracker, too." You joked, nodding in his direction.

Daryl didn't smile back. You watched as the man took a seat next to you on the mattress, and noticed the way his eyes rested on Hershel as he tended to your injuries better than he could have. 

"Ya should've followed the plan." He mumbled, so quietly that you barely caught it.

You let out a sigh, unable to hide your guilt. Daryl had an expression you'd only seen him wear once before, and you didn't like it in the slightest.

"I had a clear shot." You reasoned timidly, like you were trying to convince yourself of your words.

You had done; it was true. Except, you should have taken a moment to consider your actions. You thought that you were in fact the hypocrite - since when the time came, you'd been the one to shoot first, and ask questions later.

"If my aim was a little better we wouldn't even be having this conversation." You told him, and offered a sheepish smile alongside it. "I'm sorry I missed."

Hershel tightened the knot as he finished wrapping your foot. You lifted your leg and outstretched it to examine his work. Tentatively, you wiggled your toes, and thanked the man when you felt no pain in doing so. Daryl sent a nod in his direction too, before turning back.

"I don' give a damn if ya missed." He told you, barely above a whisper.

Hershel ushered himself out of the room as quietly as he could manage, trying not to intrude any longer. As soon as he'd left, Daryl let his head drop onto your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath over the crook of your neck.

"I only care tha' yer alive." He admitted, mumbling against the skin there. "I can't lose you, too."

You leant back against the man. He seemed so downtrodden, but for the first time since the farm, you felt safe. You remembered that first night after you'd cleared the prison, sitting out in that field around the campfire. You'd asked him then if he thought this could be your home. Now, you decided, it was.

"Have more faith in me, Dixon." You told him, and stroked his hair - letting your nails run along his scalp gently. "I think I must be pretty hard to kill."

Despite the head injury, the events of that morning were as clear as day to you - as clear as the cloudless sky had been when you all took your positions. The strategy had been to ambush them when they came, and you had been the one to dissuade Rick from utilising the watchtowers.

"They'll be their first target." You'd said, and luckily he had listened.

You and Daryl had been checking the guns, before deciding to take one last walk around the perimeter. You'd scouted their vehicles en route to the prison, so you knew it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose. The day was otherwise serene, and you hoped that once all of this was over you'd get the chance to revel in the sunshine and celebrate your certain victory.

You smiled over at the man, remembering what you'd wanted to tell him. The two of you were checking for breaches in the fences, making sure that the governor's men couldn't infiltrate from anywhere you wouldn't expect. You watched as Daryl pulled on the lattice wire to make sure it was secure, and you slipped your hand into his other, free one. 

He gave you a subtle glance, but didn't make any sarcastic remarks in return. The two of you walked hand-in-hand alongside the fences, as though you were going on a mundane, morning stroll in the sun. It was silent, and you both seemed to just bask in the peace whilst it still lasted. Though, once you had gone full-circle, and had ended up back where you'd started, you stopped in place.

You fished around in your pocket and pulled out the sharpie you'd scavenged from Glenn earlier in the day. Daryl looked at it suspiciously, but let you do as you pleased - just like always. Carol had noted how much of a soft spot the man had for you, and you couldn't even deny it at this point. The two of you had woken up entangled in each other this morning, and it had taken you the better part of half an hour to coax him to let you get up. You could tell he was scared of what the day would bring. Despite claiming to be a man 'not scared of nothing,' you knew that Daryl Dixon was afraid of one thing above all else - and that was losing you. 

"Give me your hand." You instructed, and pulled the cap off the top of the pen with your teeth.

The man eyed the permanent marker, before looking down at your interlocked hands.

"Yer holdin' it." He grumbled, and you rolled his eyes at his dry humour.

"The other one." You clarified, pointing in the direction. "It needs to be on the same side."

You took his hand in yours before he had time to question you further, and pressed the sharpie to it. You drew the simple pattern, watching as the ink bled out slightly over the cracks in his skin.

It was the same rune of Týr that you had tattooed on your hip - the one Daryl claimed 'looked like an arrow.' He stared at it once you'd finished, stretching out his fingers before balling his hand into a fist. Maybe it was a little childish to want to wish him luck in this way, and you thought that Daryl was a man quite capable of victory by himself, but you'd wanted to do it nonetheless.

"Look, we match." You exclaimed with a smile, but the words felt familiar on your tongue.

Daryl must have thought so, too, as you saw some kind of recognition flash behind his eyes. Then, you remembered it. The memory washed over you like a wave coming onto shore. It had been back on the farm, where you lay next to each other on that springy, double bed. He'd had an arrow wound in his side, and your bullet hole matched it nicely. You'd pointed it out to him with a grin, too doped up on medication for your own good. It felt so long ago - back when you'd been more young and naive to the world, and he'd been more angry at it.

"I guess some things never change." You admitted, and you could tell that he understood.

You felt him squeeze your hand, and looked back down at the semi-tattoo you'd drawn haphazardly. 

"An' other things do." He replied.

When the first explosion rang out, your mind immediately thought back to that moment. The front left watchtower had been decimated, just as you had predicted, and the tanks began to roll in through the field. Whilst some of the group were hidden away in the prison interior, waiting to ambush those who came in, you stayed outside with Maggie and Glenn - ready to catch any stragglers who made it back out.

Daryl hadn't wanted you to be in the thick of it, and you could tell why. From the looks of it, the governor's army was partially made of toy soldiers. From your position, you could make out young boys and girls barely through their teenage years, and adults who looked like they had never held a weapon before. You would have found it hard to kill them - even if you needed to.

From your hiding place, however, you couldn't see the governor. The group was too dense, and he was probably lurking somewhere in the middle - just like the coward he was. You stared down the scope of your rifle, trying to get a better view. All around you, you could hear the sounds of crumbling stone, and the flicker of flames as they burned the tower to the ground. There had only been a couple of warning rounds shot at the building, but they'd done more damage than you were comfortable with. You just hoped that Daryl and the others were alright inside. 

The whole thing seemed to last a couple of minutes at most. As quickly as the group had entered the cellblock, they were forced back out in a shroud of smoke and gunfire. Maggie and Glenn had their guns aimed, but it looked to be a clean retreat. The govenor's makeshift suicide army had all turned back, and were fleeing into the forest - so you didn't shoot at them.

That had been the plan anyway, until you caught sight of a familiar eyepatch and the man who wore it. You jumped up from behind the bushes like someone had set them alight, and ran over to the wall for cover. Maggie and Glenn shouted at you, but you continued until you reached it. It was part of the fence you'd reinforced with steel, and you ducked behind it to peer through the gunhole. 

The man was returning back to the tank, mowing down anyone who got in his way. You stared through your rifle scope, finger hovering the trigger. You would have pulled it, but a civilian got in your line of sight at the last second. 

"Shit." You whispered, below your breath, and slung the rifle back over your shoulder.

You hopped the fence and started running, making your way to the blazing watchtower that was set alight like a torch. The base was still steady, and it provided good cover whilst allowing you to move in closer. The calm summer's day had been transformed into a warzone in a matter of minutes. Shouts and gunfire rang out around you as you dashed to the burning building. When you reached it, you quickly ducked down and pressed your back to the stone as you set up your rifle. 

It hasn't been part of the plan; you knew that. Though, you didn't just want to let the man walk free, either. If you weren't the one to do it, it would be someone else - perhaps Rick, or Michonne, or even Daryl. You wanted to pull your weight, especially if it meant that their shoulders wouldn't have to bear the burden of it.

The tower creaked and groaned above your head, and your eyes quickly glanced upwards to catch sight of the flames that licked the sky - creating an amber haze that resembled sunset. You ignored the sound, and locked onto the governor once again. This time, he was clambering into the vehicle, and you knew that it would be your last chance. Your line of sight was clear, and so you let your finger squeeze the trigger - and felt the jolt of the gun as it hit back against your shoulder.

The bullet connected, and you watched the man stagger backwards. He turned to face your direction, and your gazes caught for a split second - like you could see it all unfold in slow motion. Then, you heard a crash, and time resumed as normal.

Glass shattered above your head and fell onto you like jagged raindrops, and the stone debrid came following like lightning after it. The tower shifted, and you watched it crumble for a brief moment before the adrenaline kicked in. You abandoned your rifle and jumped up, starting to run in the opposite direction. Rubble came pouring down and bounced over the concrete at your feet. You felt small pieces nick your legs, but continued to sprint as you heard Maggie and Glenn call your name in the distance. You couldn't outrun the collapse, but you'd managed to dive behind one of the fences just in time to shield yourself.

You'd squeezed your eyes closed as the tower fell, and huddled your knees to your chest to protect yourself. The stone structure made the most almighty crash as it caved to the ground, and suddenly the courtyard was completely shrouded in dust. It wasn't until the smoke cloud had settled and you recognised figures emerging from the fog that you realised you'd made it. 

Your head stung, and you pressed your fingers to your temple only to notice that something had drawn blood there. You must've been struck by some stray piece of rubble, you thought. You were a bit dazed, but you could make out voices clearly as they shouted your name. You recognised one in particular, and your heart sped up in response.

"C'mon, Teach!" Daryl yelled, but you couldn't pin-point where from. 

You tried to call back, but your throat was dry and your voice barely made its way out of your lips.

"Can ya hear me?" He shouted again. "Call out to me if ya can hear me!"

Clearing your throat, you tried again.

"Daryl!" You screamed, and this time it resonated. "I'm here!" 

You noticed a shift in the fog, and figures got clearer as they made their way through it.

"I'm over here!" You yelled again, your voice breaking over the words.

The man came running over to you as soon as he could tell where you were. You'd been hidden behind the sheet of metal, sat amongst a pile of debrid, but he still found you. You could feel the fresh blood trickling down your forehead, but you wiped it away with the back of your hand and sent him a watery smile of pure relief. Daryl took in the sight, and the way your foot seemed to be turned in an awkward angle beneath you - and his eyes widened.

"What did you do?" He asked, rushing over to your side in an instant.

You looked back at him with an equally dumbfounded expression.

"I shot him." You admitted. "I shot the governor." 

After Hershel had left your cell, you and Daryl stayed sitting on the mattress together for a little while. You let him rest his head over your shoulder, which soon turned into lying on your chest as you both slumped back into the pillows. It was a little different from what you were used to, but you held his head and stroked his hair gently. You thought that he needed the comfort, and you were fine with being able to return it for once.

Maggie and Glenn had informed you that they'd seen everything go down - and that you'd actually hit the governor in the shoulder, rather than his chest. It was a bitter disappointment, but they'd reassured you that you'd still done a good job - after they'd given you a scolding, that is. You weren't entirely sure what had possessed you to do it - to abandon the plan. Maybe it was the images of a beaten Glenn and an inconsolable Maggie that you weren't able to rid yourself of, or perhaps it was the nightmares you had of cowering beneath Axel's body. More likely, it was the recent death of Merle, and what it had done to Daryl as a result. Whatever it was, you didn't regret it. The governor had deserved everything that was coming for him, and you'd just happened to be the one to pass the sentence.

Daryl's eyelids seemed heavy, and his breathing had evened out. You knew that if you didn't rouse him now, he'd probably fall asleep within a matter of minutes. It was selfish, but you didn't want that. You wanted to celebrate your victory - no matter how certain it had been.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." You whispered, and gently moved his hair back from his face.

The man inhaled sharply, and you watched his eyes flicker as they adjusted to the light. You let out a soft chuckle, which you were sure he could feel resonate through your chest.

"Can you help me down the stairs?" You asked sweetly, hoping to coax him awake. "I want to meet everyone."

He'd already carried you out of the rubble once today, but you hoped he'd be generous enough to lend you an arm as you hobbled down the metal steps. Daryl sat up and stretched his neck side to side before glancing over at you, his eyes immediately resting over your bandaged forehead to check it was still alright. You offered a smile to reassure him, and eventually the man nodded in return.

"It's gonna get a lot nosier 'round 'ere." He grumbled, but it didn't sound like he really minded.

Daryl had your arm slung over his shoulder as you both attempted the stairs. His other hand was on your waist for support, and he waited patiently as you took each step - going along with your pace. You'd heard the commotion from your cell, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of people that had been brought back from Woodberry. 

As your foot hit the final step you were greeted by an unexpected round of applause, interspersed with the occasional cheers. You almost stumbled back in shock, but Daryl caught your arm before you could trip.

"There she is!" Glenn yelled over the crowd. "Our suicidal sniper."

You shot Daryl a side-eye glance, but the man just shrugged in response. Your gaze ran over the unfamiliar faces as they smiled, or looked at you curiously, and you suddenly felt inadequate in comparison. You stood leaning against Daryl in your dusty clothes and bandages, and sheepishly lowered your head as they stared. Eventually, Daryl shooed them all away, warning them to 'get out of your face.' 

It made you laugh, and you aimed some teasing remarks in his direction - pestering him if he'd like to become your bodyguard. The chatter buzzed around you like nothing you'd ever heard before. Even in the old world, the atmosphere couldn't compare. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd even laid eyes on so many people at once. You knew that you'd have to clear out some other cell blocks just to make room for them all. This was the start of something; you just knew it.

Someone called your name from amongst the fray, but Daryl didn't stop ushering you over to a nearby seat. You whipped your head around in confusion, but continued to shuffle along until you had the opportunity to sit down. He leant against the table next to you, resembling a diligent guard dog. Daryl was the most loyal man you'd ever met, and everyday he reminded you not to settle for anything less. You wondered how anyone could ever come close to him - past or present. Your ex had been a mere speck of poorly-chosen dust in comparison to Daryl Dixon. 

The man seemed to be able to read your thoughts, as he glanced in your direction with perfect timing - causing you to look away. You heard your name through the thick of the crowd again, and this time tried harder to locate the source. Only a few seconds later, someone emerged from the centre of the room, pushing past everyone so that she could get to you. 

The woman had neat brown hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a sundress that looked like it had been recently pressed. All of the former Woodberry inhabitants looked clean, but she definitely stood out due to how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a warm coffee colour, and her smile was bright as she looked over at you.

You choked on your words, immediately standing up only to stumble into Daryl's shoulder. He quickly got a hand under your arm to steady you, but had a disapproving expression on his face as he did so.

"Vanessa?" You spluttered out, and she gave you an excited nod in return.

Daryl barely had time to step aside before the woman bounded up to you and flung her arms around your neck. She squeezed you so tightly that you forgot how to breathe, but you hugged her back with the same force - clasping your arms around her back.

You were utterly speechless. The last time you'd seen the woman, the two of you were witnessing the complete horror of your camp being destroyed. You'd looked for her in the days following, but she'd seemed to simply disappear into the night. You hadn't even thought she'd made it out alive. She'd been your colleague before all this, and then your campmate. But, most importantly, she'd been your friend.

You stared at her as she pulled away, and she giggled at your dumbfounded expression. Her smile was as pretty as you remembered, and you suddenly felt pale in comparison to her rosy cheeks and honey complexion. She was as quick-witted as ever, and wasted no time in regaining her composure to tease you like you'd never even spent any time apart.

Daryl watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt, but you could tell that he was starting to put the pieces together.

"You were the one who shot him?" She asked, as though in utter shock.

She had her hands on either of your shoulders, and looked you up and down before settling over your one foot that you kept hovering above ground.

"Yeah." You replied sheepishly, and glanced off to the side.

The woman slapped your arm in disbelief, and Daryl shot her a warning look that made you snort. She looked over at the man, too, and raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth happened to you?" She questioned, meeting your eyes this time.

You stared at the floral pattern of her sundress, secretly wishing you had something equally as pretty, and shrugged.

"Well, I hit my forehead and sprained my ankle-" you started, but the woman cut you off.

"I don't mean that." She remarked, with a disapproving tone.

She sounded the same as she did on those days you'd spend your lunch breaks together, or go and get coffee at the local shop - trading gossip and work secrets. She grinned at you mischievously, and it didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

"Where is the timid girl who sang 'Yellow Submarine' to us from her tent every night?"

The man beside you was the one to laugh this time, and you jabbed him with your elbow in response. 

"I really do miss that tent." You mumbled under your breath, and thought you could hear Daryl weakly protest below his.

Vanessa eyed the two of you, and her mouth upturned into a grin you recognised all too well. It was the one she wore when whispering to you about cute baristas, or when sliding her number across the bar. 

"And who's this?" She said, in a tone that was equally as familiar.

She turned to face Daryl, and gave him a quick once-over like she was checking for any visible flaws. You couldn't contain your laugh; she always did lack subtlety.

"This is Daryl." You told her, and slipped your hand into his. "My-" you paused, furrowing your eyebrows as you did, "boyfriend?"

It came out like a question, and Daryl snorted uncharacteristically from beside you.

"'M too old for tha' word." He grumbled, but it was still light-hearted.

You took the opportunity to have some fun, and pressed your chest against his arm as you got closer to his ear.

"What do you want me to say, then?" You asked teasingly. "My partner? Sweetheart?" 

The man seemed completely taken aback to hear you call him anything besides 'Dixon.' 

"My other half? The old ball 'n chain-" you continued, but were abruptly interrupted as he shrugged you off in embarrassment.

"D'you wan' another head injury?" He asked - a little too quickly and a lot too loudly.

Vanessa laughed her usual dainty laugh, and you'd almost forgotten that she was even there. Daryl's cheeks were dusted a light pink, and you knew he would remind you of this later when you were alone.

"You two are good together." The woman spoke, causing you to look over in her direction. "I'm glad you found someone in all of this." 

You gave her a shy smile, before looking down at your feet. You'd never been good with compliments, but she always seemed to have an abundance of them to give.

"After everything you've been through," she went on, this time glancing over at Daryl with a look that could only be described as approval. "You really deserve someone who can make you happy."

Happy. That is what this feeling was. You'd almost forgotten what the word meant, but you were suddenly reminded. Daryl had made you feel a lot of things since you'd met him - first a lot of nerves and sometimes even frustration, but eventually it became comfort and security. However, you realised that all along there were moments of happiness. Even back at the farm, the man never did fail to make you laugh - intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it was his dry sense of humour, or the wise-cracks he'd make in those days where he seemed younger, and more willing to fight the world. 

You looked over at the man like you'd only just come to the most obvious of realisations. Daryl Dixon made you happy - like nothing else had before.

As the night started to settle down, the atmosphere fizzled away along with it. Everyone had taken to their temporary sleeping arrangements, and you could tell that Daryl was holding back his yawns as he helped you clamber over the people left chatting on the floor. The day felt like it had gone on for a week, and you couldn't wait to just sink into bed and let your bandaged head meet the pillows.

Across the block, you spotted Rick talking to some of the new residents, and urged Daryl to return to the cell ahead of you. The man glanced down at your foot and then back up to your eyes, as though needing to state the obvious. You shook your head, telling him that you'd get Rick to help you up the stairs once you were done. You just wanted to talk to the officer briefly, and didn't want to keep Daryl up any longer than he needed to be.

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he left you propped up against the wall where you instructed him to. His stubbornness had definitely rubbed off on you, you'd realised, and he could hardly attempt to fight against it.

"Deputy Grimes!" You called, once Daryl was out of ear-shot. "Get over here for a second."

The man looked up from his conversation, and you watched him excuse himself before making his way over. He looked equally as exhausted as the rest of you, and stepped heavily over the stone floor. Still, he gave you a small smile as he approached, and squeezed your shoulder.

"You did good today." He drawled, praising you for the second time tonight.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest with the back of your hand. 

"Don't let Daryl hear you say that." You warned, with a teasing look. "I could have died, remember?"

You'd said the words in Daryl's Southern accent, impersonating the man the best you could. Rick laughed in response, and you quickly glanced over your shoulder just to double-check that the archer wasn't still looming there.

"Never knew him to be so uptight." The officer replied, and you shrugged.

"He just needs a good night’s sleep." You explained, glancing over at the staircase leading to the second floor. "I think we all do."

Rick especially seemed like he was dead on his feet, but he held it together well. You couldn't imagine the pressure he felt having to keep everyone safe during times like these. You wanted to ease that burden a little, or even just throw some distractions in the mix to make him forget about it.

"Anyway, I heard that Glenn found a camera at Woodberry." You started, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you.

A few hours ago you'd hijacked it, and briefly kidnapped the Grimes children for that photoshoot you'd been threatening. The polaroid had turned out even better than you'd hoped - and you had almost been tempted to keep it for yourself.

You pulled the picture from your pocket, careful not to bend it, and passed it to the man. His eyes squinted as he looked at it, flat atop his palm. Both Carl and Judy were sporting their sheriff's hats, and the older Grimes had his sister perched on his lap.

"Thank you for everything you've done for us, Rick." You told him, and watched as he brought the picture closer to his face. "I'll never forget how you were always there for me."

It was rare that you ever saw the man speechless, but in that moment you were sure you saw a glimpse of the same Rick Grimes you'd first encountered back at the farm - that officer friendly who would give anything for his family.

He shook his head wordlessly, before tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He said quietly, before slinging one of your arms around his neck. "And I don't think you ever will."

You returned to your cell soon after that, bidding the officer goodnight at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before reminding you to change your bandages in the morning. You laughed in response, wondering why all the men around you treated you like glass.

The room was quiet as you ducked under the sheet hanging at the doorway, and you shuffled inside. Daryl had lit the small lamp on the table, and it cast a warm, golden glow over him where he lay. He had his eyes closed, but you noticed he had your headphones on - connected to the walkman that was left at the edge of the mattress.

You could hear the faint din of the music as some sound escaped, and slowly made your way over to the bed - not wanting to startle the man. He was still fully dressed, and had his arms tucked under his head as he lay on his back. You didn't think he was asleep; rather, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You knelt down onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your weight as you crawled up beside him. He didn't react, so you pulled one side of the headphones from his ear, and brought your lips close to it.

"Boo." You whispered, and blew hot air there to make him shiver.

This time he cracked an eye open, and pulled you down beside him gently. He continued to be mindful of your head, and plumped a pillow up for you to lay on. He then removed the headphones, and twisted the ends of them so that the speaker parts were facing outwards. 

You chuckled at the action, suddenly thinking back on your childhood where you'd share a pair with your friends. Daryl placed them in the space between the two of you, so that you could both listen to the songs together. You heard something by The Beatles play muffled, and closed your eyes to take in the melody.

The two of you talked briefly, and sleepily, for a bit. Daryl grumbled about you using him as a makeshift crutch for the majority of the night, and you just hummed in response. You caught him glancing over at you every now and then, but he made no attempt to pull you closer like he usually would have. You knew it was because of your head; he didn't even have to tell you.

"Hershel said it might leave a small scar." You told him, like it was a secret you felt needed to be disclosed.

You didn't really mind all that much, but you knew Daryl had a tendency to look at you guilt-stricken whenever he saw you injured. You just wanted to warn him - just in case.

"Like Harry Potter or some shit?" The man mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Maybe." You replied.

The chatter downstairs had settled, and all that remained was the tinny sound of the music that quietly played near your ear. You swallowed thickly, staring up at the ceiling to see the uneven cracks that marred it.

"Will you still love me if I have a gawdy scar over my forehead?" You asked teasingly - but a part of you felt nervous to hear the response.

Then, your eyes widened as you realised your choice of words. You sat up, immediately feeling the blood rush to your head as you did so.

"Wait-" you stuttered, noticing the man's expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He cut you off before you could finish.

"I will."

You blinked, but he pulled you back down to him - this time letting you lay your head gently over his chest.

"Know I ain't said it before, but-" he paused, "I love ya." 

His heartbeat pounded quickly against your cheek, as though proving his words.

"I love ya so goddamn much, so don't ever pull that shit on me again."

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, and hoped he couldn't feel them dampen his shirt.

"I love ya - you crazy woman who shot the governor an' took a bullet for me."

You swallowed thickly, trying to hide the wateriness of your voice as you responded.

"I love you too, Dixon." You admitted, wondering why you hadn't done so before.

You'd loved the man almost as long as you could remember; but it was one thing to love, and another thing to be loved in return.

"I won't let anything on this earth take me away from you." You mumbled against him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Daryl breathed in deeply, and you moved along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is what happiness felt like, you decided. Happiness wasn't as perfect as you had once thought it to be - back in the old world. It wasn't that amazing job, or the hard-earned paycheck, nor was it the men who called you pretty whilst giving you an ugly stare. Happiness for you was now walking around the perimeter of a dingy prison, hand-in-hand, as you stared up at the morning sun preparing for a fight. Happiness was those nights you'd stay awake, listening to the laughs down the hall of Maggie and Glenn as they whispered about their future together, and noticing that Daryl was eavesdropping, too. Most importantly, happiness was the man who you woke up next to, and the sound of his voice as he told you 'good morning.'

You looked down at his hand, resting on his chest, and saw the ink there that had smudged throughout the day. The walkman finished its tune, and there was a brief, few-second silence before it skipped to the next one. A familiar melody rang out, and Daryl placed a careful kiss over your hair.

"I like this song." He whispered against you, and you nodded in return.

"Yeah, me too."

A/N It took 20 chapters, 120k words, but they finally exchanged their ‘I love you’s.’ I think it was obvious that they already loved each other before this, but hearing them say it out loud just- 

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