#ofc I don’t think you need a blog to think outside the box | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sponseredbybadlifechoices · 9 months

Text

I hate my art style, it feels too claustrophobic, I always have ideas but when I get anything out I either can’t execute it or my mind blanks, then there’s the absolute lack of motivation I’ve had the same sketchbook since like November 22nd and I am not even half way through with it, and the rotting ohhh the rotting

Rotting is just being in that stupide adhd x Depression combo where you have so much to do/want to do but physically can’t get up and do anything due to the affermentioned adhd and depression and so you lay in bed for the rest of the day or all day where you scroll through social media and are so consumed with everything that’s wrong with you and how stifling your room is and how much you want to go outside to a place you’ll only ever see in your daydreams and you’d give to be there or anywhere that isn’t here but you can’t because it’s not shower day yet and if you shower today you’ll have to shower on Monday which is the day you go back to school and you need to brush your teeth and floss because god knows when was the last time you did that

and you want to draw SOMETHING but doing anything is so physically and mentally taxing and when you ARE able to move to draw you can’t draw ANYTHING because despite having so much fanart and references and shit saved none of it inspires you OR it DOES but all your ideas are bad or your hand just can’t produce what it wants and it hasn’t been able to draw anything interesting and that wouldn’t be a problem because there’s so many filters you can use but you can’t utilize ANY of it because you have never been able to think outside the box or do anything interesting because you’re you and nothing you’ve ever drawn has been fucking worth it because it’s all so. Fucking. Boring. It doesn’t say anything new it doesn’t say anything interesting it doesn’t even make you think. At least before October it made you happy and you were actually satisfied with your art but you haven’t felt that feeling since September or July

And that’s another thing you physically can draw anything that doesn’t interest you, and that is heavy blow to your ego when literally NOTHING interests you anymore

When not even your old and dear hyperfixations can save you because you’re so beyond saving because you never had anything interesting to say even with your old interests and so you put your art supplies or iPad away and go back to your phone and you can’t even read fanfic cuz you’re not at school and that’s the on,y time your brain will let you so you go on twitter expecting to see gay fanart but nooo the past month has been full of just radfem bullshit or discourse that does matter yes but is not what you want to see and then you wonder why there’s so much radfem shit on your tl and ofc it’s because someone your following is liking their shit of you must’ve accidentally liked a tweet from a radfem and so now you’re thinking which tweet it was and reevaluating your ideals but you don’t know which ones because you don’t know which fucking tweet you liked that caused this whole downfall andyou just want your timeline to go back to fanart for shit you didn’t give a fuck about and updates on Palestine

So you goto tumblr but that quickly ends because you check all your faves blogs and the dashboard is so fucking boring so you goto tiktok which just, makes everything so much worse, cuz you’ll lay there scrolling through TikTok’s for fucking hours worsening the rotting and yet still being so goddamned bored despite every video but you can’t stop because watching something anything is better than laying there looking into nothing except your shitty fucking room with your queen sized bed tht takes up 90% of the room because your mom wanted the stupid thing to go right smack in the middle and you just wanna sleep upstairs again because upstairs has the most natural light with a big window facing the other apartments but your sister sleeps up there now and she never uses that window because “people can see inside” and you get that shes incredibly paranoid but you’re so fucking jealous and pissed off that she gets all that beautiful natural light to save her but she never fucking utilizes it while you’re stuck on the first floor where your room has two windows on opposite sides, one facing the patio the other facing the street and the patio window while great does not get the ray of sunlight that upstairs does and god knows I’m to scared of another face bejng on the other side of the street window and that’s why you hate the bed being in the middle of the fucking room. At least one of the reasons

Because if your mom could just move it all the way to the patio window you can get so much more natural light and a lot more room, but your mom doesn’t want to do that because of the stupid fucking matching drawers she got and how she wants our individual drawers on each side of the bed and you get it but godgodgod you fucking hate this lack of space how the bed is basically the entire fucking room and since you are absolutely awful at picking cleaning up after yourself there’s basically nowhere to walk and your mom complains about this and it would be so much easier if the bed was just on one side or if you just got a smaller fucking bed,

oh and because of that big ass bed if your mommy isn’t in bed with you you have so much more trouble sleeping like a fucking child but whatever it’s fine you just won’t bring up how much you hate this room you won’t get irritated when your mom always grumbles and huffs and puffs and mutters under her breath passive agressive shit about how dirty the house is because of you and you sister but she only ever does this in front of you so you’re the only one having to take the brunt of it and she’s right of course but it’s the muttering and the huffing and the fucking puffing that pisses you off so much and you just can’t stand it that you have to hold yourself back from splitting your moms head open with your bare fucking hands

And you’re still laying in bed but at this point you’ve sat up and looked at your side of the floor, except there is no floor there’s just all your shit and you can’t even see your floor and you wonder howd it get this bad when you just fucking cleaned it, will you get up and clean it? No! Because you’re so exhausted from either the day at school you had or from the entire week and you never actually heal from school even if you’re on break because you need so so much more time than 2 weeks or 2 days to repair everything and the only reason you survived the first semester is because you kept going and didn’t look back despite how the entire semester when you go home you just spend the rest of the day rotting and you continue to rot for the rest of the week and the weekend and the fucking breaks, and you think to yourself that taking these tiny little breaks will recuperate you just enough to keep going another week and it does but when you reach winter break you come crashing down amd don’t even get me started on how anticlimactic finals were and Christmas and literally everything despite Christmas being your favorite holiday every year every fucking holiday gets worse and worse but that’s not the point is it. Through the rotting although it recuperates you just a tiny bit what it doesn’t let you do is fucking draw like said before and drawing digitally/actually focusing on bigger pieces either traditional or digital is the most enticing part of the weekend or breaks.

But it never comes. Because youre too busy reeling from the day, week, hell months you’ve had and you’re so fucking depressed and it’s gotten so so much worse ever since school started again and you wish you could be one of those low functioning depressed people because they look like they have it so easy but they probably don’t and you’re being so fucking judgemental again but you just can’t help but there’s no one who publicly talks about these parts about their depression

And of COURSE they wouldn’t but you wish so hard someone would, because despite your selfish desires to be the only person to feel what you’re feeling when you get that “wish” and you don’t see anyone talk about it this way you feel so so alone despite you desiring that and you hate it you hate all of it and no one even knows that you’re struggling like this not even your therapist because you were so focused on surviving each week that you couldn’t focus on this slow burn decline and of course you had alot of other shit going on that were more urgent to discuss w your therapist amd even they noticed how you’ve been lower in mood and you noticed too. In your sessions you’ve been so much more tired and so much less your exuberant excited self. It’s not all gone of course you’re still your hyper fixated autistic self and you still get excited over your hyperfixations. But you’ve noticeably been more tired in sessions and probably outside of sessions but no one notices except your therapist and when they ask about it you don’t know what to say.

You’re so well aware of the rot and your art decline which coincides with your mental decline but you bring those up in passing. Because you don’t realize how bad the slow burn is, like putting a frog in water and slowly heating it up until it dies without realizing it. And this is all because you were convincing yourself that you couldn’t be this exhausted you don’t have math this year. And that’s what keeps you going. Not having math. And you notice, you notice how you’re still so so fucking exhausted but you tell yourself to keep going or how it’s not that bad because you don’t have math. This was supposed to be a better year for fucks sake but it wasn’t. And you can’t tell why. I got rid of the biggest contributor of my misery so why, why has everything gotten so much worse? Why have I gotten more miserable? Why has my art gotten worse? Less recognizable? So much more claustrophobic and boring and so so awful? It’s not fair

It’s so not fucking fair why do I have to go through this. Why do I have to deal with periods, why do I have to deal with boobs and a disgusting voice and hips and thighs of a fucking woman why do I have to deal with this body I didn’t even fucking want. Why do I have to deal with this mental decline. Why do I have to deal with my artistic decline while everyone else has “Highschool problems”. But you know that’s not true. You know your friends only want you to see what they can make light of, you know they’re problems are so so much deeper than they let on but you’re always such a vindictive and selfish person you think their problems aren’t as bad as yours and that’s so so untrue so you keep those thoughts in your head and ohhhh you can’t even get started on your physical pains your knee still hurts from when your dog and this German Shepard collided with it and it’s been months.

But it still hurts and when your at a dog park and a bunch of dogs start running at you you feel the panic and the indescribable pain you felt that day. But that’s not all, your knee hurts but it’s gotten to hurting your leg as a whole too, in your aerobics class you can’t do certain things anymore because your stupid fucking knee hurts too much and uts not fucking fair because it happened months ago so why why why fucking why does it still hurt. And then there’s the headaches oh the headaches and so much more health issues you can’t even fucking remember and the doctors did nothing about but make referrals to check SOME of them. But it’s whatever! It’s not like I feel like I’m constantly fighting for air when I’m at school, it’s not like the inhaler that I have barely helps it’s fucking WHATEVER.

And all you want is for someone to take you seriously, to not joke about any of this, to actually fucking see you but everyone is a emotionally stunted teenager and you can’t even blame them because you’re the one who constantly makes jokes and deflects and who can’t put your feelings into word

Until the last fucking second

When all of it has happened and will continue to happen

Who will save you from this fucking depressive episode. No one because you didn’t tell them anything but at least you’re writing it down now so next time you see your therapist you can finally. Finally. Work on this whole fucking issue

What’s the point of me going through this? The first half of 2023 while by no means perfect was such a wonderful time of artistic expression. And of course the rotting was still very very there at least at that time my art felt good. It felt amazing. Will it be like this again this year? An amazing first half and debilitating second half? Is it because of daylight savings? I wouldn’t be wrong in that assessment I’ve said multiple times how much night coming quicker severely depresses me. If I was somewhere that actually snowed I wouldn’t mind as much because then I can have a winter moment or fucking something butNO I got to be born in cali fucking fornia where there’s no seasons and by the time I move out there will be no seasons left in this fucking world because our world leaders and corporations will have fucked it all up

It’s not fair, none of this is fair. I shouldn’t have to deal with any of this, why me. Of all people, out of every person in this world. You could have given all this baggage to some rich person who would be able to make it all go away. But no. You just HAD to give it to someone in poverty! And not only that you made them trans and gay and to add insult to injury you gave them depression anxiety adhd autism and so much trauma they can barely function. What was the point of making me like this. I know I’m not kind to my ocs, but why did god have to be a 12 year old girl? Can she even hear me, does she even care. But blaming everything on an entity that isn’t even sure to exist is such a pussy move. Those to blame are those who have hurt me, those who made the school system like that, those who downplay mental illness. Everyone. Except me. Who’s to say all of this isn’t my fault, was I that bad of a child that I Inadvertently gave myself all of this

I hate all of this, I know I’m responsible for everything but goddamnit

This body this mind this psyche is so fucking repulsive these hands can’t even draw anything interesting. This voice isn’t mine. This face isn’t fully mine. This chest is not mine and never will be. These thighs and these hips are so woman like but I’m not a woman I’m a little boy I shouldn’t have this body I should no chest and tinier hips, less womanly thighs

And it’s funny because this body is that of a grown woman but this voice and face is that of a little girls. It’s disgusting. This almagamation of a child and adult on the cusp of being a woman but still just a little girl but I’m not I’m not I’m not I’m not I don’t want to be a girl I hate being a girl I hate it I hate it I hate it why do boys at my school get to be born as boys but I’m stuck in this mature body I didn’t want to start puberty at 11 I should’ve started at 13 or 14 or whenever cis boys start. Why do I have to develop early.

Why couldn’t I have it later, why couldn’t my mom put me on puberty blockers why why why I shouldn’t have had to deal with a puberty that was never meant for me. I need to start testosterone I need it so bad I can’t handle this anymore I hate being a girl I hate being a woman it was never meant for me. I want to be feminine in the way cis twinks are, do cis gays even realize how lucky they are? Will they ever? Being able to live comfortably in a body that was meant for you. Why do you get to have that but I don’t. You don’t deserve it. I deserve it. Why do I have to fight for everything that was given to you I hate this body so much i hate you so much I hate you I hate you I hate you

And how jealous I get when you and blue or literally friends I spend a lot of time w spend their time w other people. It's such a disgusting desire to want to be the only person that my obsessions ever talk to I hate it I hate it so so fucking much, and I want to be loved so bad and I am loved so why why is it so difficult to see that I am. Is it because of my immense depression and trauma that makes me feel like people don't mean it or my disassociation disorder that makes it feel unreal or.

Is it because my standard of love is so so high because I'm such an obsessive piece of fucking shit that I want people to practically worship and adore me. That I want to be the only one who matters in someone's life even though I hate HATE being the sole person who's focused on in a relationship? What is it that I want. is it in the middle? That I want to be the most important, fun, interesting and good friend anyone's ever known but they still have others that they love but never as much as they love me? Is that it Evan? You just want to be the most important person in the world to someone? But aren't you already? I am but it doesn't feel real, how can I know they're being honest Evan? How can I know that they're even real? How do I even do it Evan.

I know theres many people who love me and matt loves me so so much he's said it multiple times so what's stopping me Evan. What is preventing me from accepting it fully? Evan, it's your ego. That stupid good for nothing fragile wall that is your ego. That's the reason for all of this. But wouldn't it also be my disassociation? Evan, it's my belief they're connected.

Your disassociation was set up by your ego to make it stronger against the very real threats you were going through at home. I get that but, that can't be it can it? There has to be more factors in this, but so what if there is. All we need to know is that you'll never be capable of truly believing and feeling people's love

It will come to you sporadically, and you'll be able to fully believe you are loved. But it'll never be permanent. Yet you expect people to believe you when you say you adore them or love them, just like with people telling you they love you, but at least with your love you know it's true and while some moments feel more normal you'll always get those (much less) sporadic waves of adoration and worship. It's funny to me how badly you want them to cut you and hurt you and how badly you want to do the same. How you want to isolate them and yourself from everyone and have it just be you three.

You never want them to leave you, and who knows what'll happen if they do. It's not like you'd kill yourself of course, or hurt anybody. But I know losing them, due to their own decisions and not through death will break you. You'll never recover from it, or maybe you'll completely deflect from it and lead a normal life but years later youll sit in your apartment and it'll all come crashing down and youll be so useless and pathetic in those next few days, weeks hell even months. But that'll only happen if you're able to see them in real life right? I mean.

Even with your sister as much as you despise her you still love her. But no matter how much you love somebody I just, I can't see you being the type to really care that much when they die. You'll feel a gaping hole sure but, you'll maybe cry at the funeral and just move on. Or is it just that the ego wall with the disassociation has made you feel numb and nothing. Is that how you got through this semester? The "it's not that bad" and "gotta keep going" attitude mixed in with the numbness? It's late, you're not making sense Evan. But I will, once you figure out how to tie everything together. Just like you always do, my little starlight. I hope you die Evan. Y yo a tí, mí estrella

What a disgusting waste of two hours, how shameful am I undeserving and better left for dead. I'm glad you hope for the same thing as I do, even though you're just me talking to myself like some edgy freak. God we really don't deserve anything, I don't know why I'm still talking Evan. You're asleep, Matt's asleep. Evan when will I get to see you again, I know youre just figment of my imagination, the personification of my opposing thoughts. I'm surprised you didn't come as asuka, hell you don't even have a physical form just my name.

I'm still confused about what happened between me and asuka me, it was so much more... involuntary than what we did. It felt like a deep part of my subconscious was ripping me from the inside out, but you. You're just...you're what I'm used to I guess. Ohh three hours talking about all of this, what a load of bullshit matt is gonna wake up to. That one line about how bad this year was really just made me realize huh. Evan? I don't know why I want you to respond again, I know I probably can since you're not real.

Just a part of my thoughts, but I can't. I can't bring you fully back out like I did earlier, I can still hear echos of you calling me starlight but that's..that's it. Why aren't you coming back, wake up man come on you can't. You can't just leave me, you were supposed to keep me company while matt slept. Whyd you go back to my subconscious Evan, you should be here with me. with your opposing views, and shit. This is such edgy teenager bullshit, you're not even real. I hate you so much. More than anything. Is it because you're me? Or is it because you left me?will you come back to me soon Evan? What a shameful waste of three hours we are

#vent

0 notes

brattyfics · 3 years

Text

family day | writer wednesday

Pairing: Ezekiel Reyes x Black!OFC [Lena] Summary: Lena comes to the clubhouse to meet the guys. Tags: Angsty Fluff, Unresolved Feelings. Word Count: 1.5k

“Come by the clubhouse this weekend. We’re having a cookout. A family day.”

Lena tutted her skepticism while Ezekiel spoke. She had only caught glimpses of the Mayans’ gatherings, parties, whatever, but nothing about them screamed family-friendly. “Pops and Angel will be there.” She wanted to giggle at him using his father and brother as bargaining chips, but his voice had gotten more desperate with each word until he was almost pleading. She pouted on the other end of the line. He wasn’t playing fair.

“And most importantly...you?” Lena teased. He smiled. She could hear it in his tone. “Yeah. I’ll be there too. You?” She let out a dramatic sigh as if he were pulling her leg, but she had already made up her mind.

Since she and Ezekiel reconnected, Lena found herself in Santo Padre every other weekend. Usually, she arrived early on Saturday mornings, and Ezekiel held her close on his pull-out bed (which was surprisingly comfy considering). When they finally awoke for the day, he took her on little adventures. It was always something sweet and exciting-- an intimate ride on the back of his bike to somewhere beautiful. They revisited the beach, this time during the day. He chased her around in the sand, tickled her from behind in the salty water. Lena was able to stop and relax, see things she would never have been able to otherwise. It was so easy to get lost in the hustle and bustle of city living. She missed the simplistic beauty of nature.

Other times, he took her places to remind her of the past. The Carnival they frequented as teenagers, to the old ice cream parlor down the street from his dad’s shop. They spent all the time they could together, and when Ezekiel was busy with club business, she spent the time with her parents, helping them out around the house with whatever she could. There wasn’t much to do, there had never been, but something about it was enjoyable. Being in Santo Padre felt like stepping into a time machine. Nothing had changed. It was psychological warfare on Ezekiel’s part, but Lena never called him out on it. So, she relented, the way she always did when it came to him. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

True to her word, Lena arrived at the Mayans clubhouse around noon, several homemade cakes in tow. Ezekiel met her outside as she was getting out of the car. “I didn’t know you still baked.” It had been a hobby of hers in high school, something inexpensive and fun to do while stuck in the house. Many things about her had changed, but some hadn’t. The thought made him smile. Maybe there was more hope for them than she thought after all.

“I told you, you didn’t have to bring anything.”

“I know, but I don’t like to show up places empty-handed. Can you take this, please? I need to get the other boxes out of the car still.” Ezekiel scooped the cardboard cake box from her. She kissed his cheek in thanks. It was out of instinct, an old habit, but he froze.

“What, I can’t kiss you now?” Yes, they had been sleeping together. Quite often, actually. And they had been going out on what most people would call dates, but they hadn’t been kissing. Not really. It would make what they were doing real. Lena avoided it as much as possible to protect herself. But the lines had started to blur, and she couldn’t distinguish the nostalgia from her real feelings. She would have to make a decision soon.

Ezekiel took advantage of her being distracted, pushing forward until her back rested against the closed car door. He sat the cake box on top of the car. “You can kiss me as much as you want. I just prefer you do it...” His lips brushed against hers. “...here.” She couldn’t think about anything when he kissed her like that. Nothing but him, the way he tasted on her tongue, what he felt like up against her. She closed her eyes tight and tried to memorize it all, kissing him with just as much desperation.

“Damn, Prospect, I know you’ve been out of the game awhile, but you should at least get the lady inside the trailer first!”

And then Angel fucking Reyes had to go and ruin it.

Ezekiel broke the kiss with a groan, giving his older brother a scalding look over his shoulder. But Angel didn’t care about things like not interrupting people or being polite, so he made his way over to them anyway, clapping his baby brother on the back. “Give her some room, bro.” He tested his luck, elbowing Ezekiel to the side. He filled the space, pulling Lena into a tight hug before his brother could retaliate.

“Are you really using me as a shield right now?” She complained, arms loosely hanging at her sides.

“Yes. Now, hug me back.” Angel would hold onto her until she did what he wanted. She knew that for a fact, so she brought her arms up to wrap around his midsection. “It’s good to see you.” He mumbled into her hair. “You too.” And she meant it, squeezing him back before letting go.

“Ooh. What’s this?” He cajoled when his eyes caught sight of the box.

“Cake.” Ezekiel answered for him dryly.

Angel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Obviously, Boy Scout. What kind is it, Lena?” She glanced over her shoulder at it, to be sure. “It’s vanilla cake with buttercream icing.”

“Vanilla? Aww, man. Where’s the chocolate? You know that’s my favorite.” EZ cut his brother’s complaining short. “You don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

“Shut up.” Two words from Angel was all it took for the two of them to start bickering. Angel grabbed for his brother’s thick neck, trying and failing to pull him into a chokehold. Ezekiel got the upper hand, and then the two of them were grappling, kicking up red dust in the process while they talked shit to each other. Lena sighed and stepped out of their way. “I see nothing’s changed.”

The sound of their scuffle gathered the attention of the other Mayans. Coco, who Lena thought she recognized as Angel’s friend, was among them. The shortest man of the group headed the bunch, kissing his teeth when he saw the fuss was just Angel and Ezekiel. Again.

“Break it up!”

Lena flinched, and she wasn’t even doing anything wrong! The brothers broke apart immediately, then sat down in the dirt, out of breath and wearing sheepish expressions. They were children. Lena refrained from the “If Marisol were here...” speech she so desperately wanted to give, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Hi, querida. You must be Lena.” The man introduced himself as Bishop, taking her hand to kiss.

“Oh, yes. Hi.” She squeaked out, suddenly shy. Ezekiel stood, grabbing hold of her waist, and took over the introductions. “Guys, Lena. Lena, this is...” He went down the line one by one, and she smiled politely and nodded along. She was flattered that they already seemed to be familiar with her. Ezekiel had to run around talking about her all day. The thought made her heart ache.

Bishop directed the guys to help her with the rest of the stuff. Tranq balanced a cake in each hand, Coco taking the bag with the cake cutters and plastic forks. Angel was pleased to learn that one of them had chocolate-flavored icing with yellow cake on the inside, just the way he liked it.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Bishop told her with a smile, patting her hand one final time. “Nice to meet you too.” She called after him while Ezekiel muttered something under his breath in a grumpy tone.

Lena got to know their guys and their families. She learned she had met Coco before, and she got to meet his teenage daughter, Letty. She was sweet in an adorable, hissing cat sort of way. Lena teased Ezekiel about Letty having a little crush on him, but he denied it. Swore Letty just appreciated him for helping her out with something. He wouldn’t elaborate on what the something was.

“I get it now.” Lena told him when they found themselves alone by the abandoned fire pit. She sat on the wooden bench next to him, halfway into his lap, a warm flannel blanket on top of them. He watched her closely. “You do?”

“Yeah. You have a place here. Community. Family. It’s nice.” They had played a card game earlier. The guys traded friendly insults across the table, but it was all out of love. She felt it.

“Mhm.” He looked down and cleared his throat. “Does that change anything? For you?” Lena considered it, drowning in the hopefulness in his hazel eyes. How could she tell him no? Say goodbye forever to those eyes?

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure what I was expecting. Everyone’s so nice. Well, except Angel, but I already knew that.” Ezekiel smirked. “Yeah, he was born an ass.” He brought the cold beer bottle to his lips to sip, and then he got quiet.

“Do you think you’d like to come to another?”

Lena nodded. “Yeah, I think I would.”

Notes: Inspired by this week's prompt by @autumnleaves1991-blog. Card game is only briefly mentioned, but what can I say, I followed the muse?

@thesandbeneathmytoes This is for you. I’m slowly pulling it together. ❤️

General Taglist:

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903 @thesandbeneathmytoes

#writer wednesday #mayans mc #ez reyes x oc #ezekiel reyes x oc #Ezekiel Reyes x black!oc

98 notes · View notes

unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Note

Hiii, Peach! I've been slowly dragged into the FuseHound pit... Could you possibly write Fuse surprising Houndie for their birthday? With something fun and kinky like new toys or lingerie to mess around in because he wanted to try something new himself? If not, that is -okay~

WE ALL KNOW I LOVE HOUND WITH EVERYBODY OFC U CAN GET FUSEHOUND BEING SWEET ABSOLUTELY!!!!!! It ended up more of a drabble, whoopsies!

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Reblogs > Likes - Please Reblog the content you hit Like on :D

Warnings: R18+/NSFT under the cut, my Bloodhound headcanons, Walter Fitzroy is hung NOT clickbait??????

____

It was a mistake, really. Revealing their birth date. Bloodhound hadn't really celebrated the day in a way that would be seen as normal, instead they relaxed that day and thanked Odin for allowing them yet another year of worship. Of being able to see the beauty of nature.

When Hound reveals the date, Walter lights up and says he's gonna throw them a party. When they look physically overwhelmed, he takes it back a step or two and asks instead if he could plan something for them- as a couple- just the two of them? And he just looks...so hopeful, that Hound sighs, relenting with an 'alright' that makes him give them that award winning smile fit with crow's feet that make their chest tight in adoration.

When the day comes, Walter is...incredibly sweet. He's always been an attentive lover, and he is even more so on their birthday. He makes them breakfast, Arthur crooning nearby in Hound's cottage's kitchen. Walter is shushing him softly when he croaks, offering him a bite of dried meat and a, "Alright, alright. Here ya go, overgrown chicken. Yeah ya like that, huh? Don't let Houndie hear ya, let 'em sleep." All softly spoken even when Arthur croons and cocks his head in question of more treats.

It's a sight that makes their chest tight, their heart flutter and a smile finding its way to their lips. He's making all their favorites, a cookbook to the side of him full of Hound's handwriting of their recipes. They get a kick out of the way he squints his eye at it, leaning close to the pages and in clear need of glasses as he mutters to himself.

Then it's pampering them after breakfast. Resting on the couch with Hound tucked into his side and reading a book while he watches something on the holographic device. Occasionally with his flesh fingers scritching at their scalp, mindful of their curls and to not mess them up.

All day he tends to them. Even to dinner where they eat outside, a picnic set up just for them- and Arthur of course who croaks and hops on the sheet in a tantrum for attention. Fit with Walter stargazing with them and cupping their cheek at some point to swipe his thumb over their full lips, collecting berry juices that he can lick off with a teasing smile when Hound blushes and turns their head.

Cake is to be had at home in the warmth of their cottage and safety of their village. Walter figured out quickly of Hound's sweet tooth, so when he reveals his cake that he's baked all by himself, it makes their heart squeeze. It's tilted, clearly iced too early when it was warm with chocolate frosting and red lettering that's hard to read but definitely of their mother spelled name of Blóðhundur and a wish of a happy day.

It's the first time Hound kisses him that day, cupping his cheek and dragging him down to their height to plant the softest of kisses. Melting their lips together when Walter sets down the cake just in time to be tugged forward into them.

It's at night, when presents are opened, that it gets interesting.

!!!Rest under the cut here!!!

Walter insists they open gifts in the bedroom. And Hound realizes why when the first gift they open is delicately wrapped and Walter is rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, standing in front of them. They sit on the bed, sliding open the box on their lap and smile softly at the delicate fabrics in it. Revealing a lingerie set of a black lace bralette, matching panties and a leather garter with matching thigh highs. Not to mention the lace cover up that came with it, delicates that Hound believes counters their rougher look.

"Ya always look at this sorta stuff and don't get it so I figured maybe I'd, ya know-" Walter starts, his freckled cheeks reddening when he raises his gaze to meet their equally half blinded one.

"It is beautiful, Walter, I thank you." They assure, taking his metallic hand and brushing their lips over his knuckles.

The next gift is far more interesting. A collar. Black, gold studded with a tag hanging off it with delicate lacing etched into the gold of it. Hound's mouth goes dry when they see the letters etched into the front 'Property of Walter Fitzroy'. Fit with a tail plug, the same crimson as Hound's hair and the fur even half curled to match, long like a wolf's tail.

"I-If the collar is too much, I know how ya feel about the whole control thing-" Walter starts again, cheeks still red and fiddling with his hands like he's embarrassed- if a bit worried. And once more Hound's gaze rises to him. Feeling their heart squeeze. Thinking of how if there was ever a man they would feel comfortable submitting to, it would be him.

Just him and them.

He and they.

"I would give my life for you, if you asked, my love." Hound reassures, a small smile playing on their lips at their next words. "I am sure I can manage this much."

The last gift is a new journal, leather bound and handmade with pressed flowers in each page. It's beautiful, but Hound is far more interested in the prior gifts at the moment.

It isn't long before their hands can't keep to themself and Walter finds himself on the bed, moaning into their mouth as their pierced, split tongue licks into his mouth. Or how his hands can't move from their waist, clinging to them and down to their ass when Hound starts grinding.

They don't make it to the lingerie, only barely able to contain Hound enough to work the collar around their throat and gently work them open to take the plug. And oh how beautiful they are when they hungrily climb back onto his lap, only to end up snarling when Walter flips them and tells them that it's their turn to accept some pampering.

How they howl when his tongue works over them, his facial hair and stubble scratching over their sensitive lower lips and his tongue working their clit like magic. And oh how his moans from his own delight in eating them out drive them mad-

Hound tries to pull his hair, tries to snarl, tries their hardest to hold control, but Walter is very convincing. Especially when he's murmuring in their ear to let go, to let him take care of them.

Walter is big. Big enough to rival the toys Hound uses on him on their own body in a harness. It makes them claw and scratch the bed on all fours, snarling, howling, drooling even when his flesh hand comes around their throat and pulls them flush to his chest.

Safe to say, Hound learns that birthdays can be VERY enjoyable.

#fusehound #Fuse #Bloodhound #apex legends #apex lemons #lemon #nsft #princess writing #princess talks #headcanons #imagines #drabble

42 notes · View notes

1dffchallenges · 4 years

Photo

WHAT IS IT

a challenge in which authors must write a standalone oneshot or mini fic based on being in quarantine and a popular trope from the list below the cut

HOW IT WORKS

check out the tropes below the cut and send me your desired trope. i will then add your url against it. please try and keep an even spread if possible, however more than one person can write the same prompt, but also take into account that you can think outside the box with the trope + quarantine mix!

you will have until december 31 to complete & post the challenge on your own blogs (note: feel free to post whenever you’re done! you don’t need to wait until the end of october)

when posting the challenge, please tag this blog and use the hashtag #1dffquarantine to ensure it will be reblogged. if it isn’t reblogged within two days, please contact me as i may have accidentally missed it

if you would like to post a preview for your challenge or start an inspiration tag or whatever else you wanna do to excite your readers, go ahead! it doesn’t have to be anonymous as it has been in previous challenges

IMPORTANT NOTES

as this is a “1dff” challenge, this means it must include at least one member of one direction

if you are unable to complete your challenge, that is okay! just let me know and i can remove your name from the trope

all challenges should be at least a minimum of 2000 words

both ofc and y/n fics are welcomeyou can write fluff, smut, angst, or whatever you like. just make sure you use appropriate warnings!

if you have completed your challenge and think you can complete another in time, then feel free to request another trope!

GOOD LUCK!

TROPES

best friend’s sibling ( @curlsgetgirls )

best friends to lovers ( @soullikestyles )

coffee shop ( @beautifulletdownfics )

enemies to lovers

established relationship ( @angryinternetduck )

fake dating

friends with benefits

high school sweethearts

long distance relationship ( @unn--known )

one night stand

post break up ( @stylishmuser )

return to small town ( @suttonite )

road trip au ( @in-madhouses )

roommates ( @angrynarry )

secret dating ( @taintedwonder )

sibling’s best friend ( @calm-and-wine )

single parent ( @luminescencefics )

unplanned pregnancy

105 notes · View notes

deathonyourtongue · 4 years

Text

Willow Run | Ch. 8

Summary: On a horse ranch in Texas, life is far simpler than on the streets of Bakubah, but Syverson has a bad habit of taking in strays of all kinds, no matter what demons may be after them. Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC Word Count: 4K Warnings: Mentions of past sexual assault A/N: It’s late and it’s long and sadly, there’s not nearly as much fluff in it as I thought there would be, but that’s where the story went. CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 |

_______________________________________________

Message me if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list!

@fumbling-fanfics@skiesfallithurts@pinkpenguin7@madmedusa178@crushed-pink-petals @fangoria@bluestarego@caffeinated-writer@my–own–personal–paradise@tastingmellow @honeychicana@lua-latina@angelicapriscilla @swiftyhowlz@schreiberpablo@pinkwatchblueshoes @kirasmomsstuff@prettypascal@blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @nardahsb@playbucky@veryfastspeedz @queen-of-the-kastle @freyahelps@cajunpeach@godlikeentity @captainsamwlsn@nakusaych9@katerka88@katerka88@kirasmomsstuff@melaninmimii@alienor-romanova@downtowndk@redhairedmoiraandtheliferuiners @safiras@agniavateira@henryfanfics101 @fatefuldestinies @iloveyouyen@justaboringadult @xxxxxerrorxxxxx @readings-of-a-cavill-lover@alyxkbrl @bloodyinspiredfuck @peakygroupie@stxphmxlls@trippedmetaldetector @radaofrivia@speakerforthedead0-blog @oddsnendsfanfics @shadyskit @snowbellexx @leilabeaux @cavillunraveled @woofgocows@andahugaroundtheneck @onceiwasanun @sofiebstar@kmhappybunny @mary-ann84 @cappot @wednesdaybraids@cheyentjj @cavillhavoc @sleepy-moon-girl @princess-of-riviaa@ok-buchanan @hell1129-blog @onceiwasanun @thethirstyarchive@worldicreate @cavillunraveled @c-a-v-a-l-r-y@neverahdullmoment @henry-cavill-obsessed @rmtndew @elena-lawley @orthotrex @bichibibi @penwieldingdreamer @mis-lil-red @scoopitypoopbloop @lovetrinsy @flightofthefantasies @justrae9903 @raspberrydreamclouds @bilexualclarke @fedaikin @minton131 @holliedaisy23 @mizzzpink @omgkatinka @rn7rocks @elenas-fanficrecs @burdenedwith-gloriouslove @contentobsessor @amber20221 @ohjules @writernerd23 @whatawildone @toss-some-coffee-to-your-witcher @modernscarlett

Sasha awoke excited for another note. Though she’d only received two, they’d become something of a calling card for Sy, his thing, so to speak. She loved that he took even a moment out of his day to ensure she felt comfortable and safe in his home, and though she never brought it up, she’d begun keeping them in one of the shoe boxes that came from their shopping spree. Always carefully folded, she allowed herself the small, childish hope of one day filling the box with Sy’s writing, if only so she could go back and reread them, remembering their story from the beginning.

Flopping her arm down on the pillow, she pouted as she found only cotton. Maybe it was just a formality. Truth be told, while she trusted his character and kindness, Sasha didn’t truly know Sy, especially where it pertained to how he acted as a lover. Maybe the gestures stopped once he knew he’d locked down a lady, or maybe this was just a one off.

Sasha pondered both sides as she got dressed and headed downstairs, surprised when she found Sy leaning against the counter, still in his lounge pants. Despite a serious case of bedhead, she couldn’t help but find him even more attractive in his freshly-woken state. Sy smiled when he saw her, gesturing for her to join him in the kitchen. It was only then that Sasha noticed the phone pressed to his ear. Sy blindly lifted his free arm up, a signal for Sasha to snuggle in close if ever there was one.

“Morning, darlin’,” Sy whispered against the crown of her head, giving Sasha a tender kiss that turned her knees to jello on the spot. Squeezing him tight, she pressed her own kiss to Sy’s chest, just over his heart.

“Yeah, uh, I’m not sure...Would you be able to tell that from lookin’ at ‘er? Okay, okay, good. Yeah, uh,” Sy checked his wristwatch briefly before his hand swept over Sasha’s head affectionately, “ten works. I took the day off, so we’ve got plenty ‘a time. Alright, thank you. See you soon.”

Closing the call, Sy set the phone down and wrapped Sasha up in a bear hug, a plethora of kisses scattered all over her face before he cupped her jaw in one hand.

“I called my mom this morning. Told her about you and asked her for advice on the lil’ one, especially when it came to a doctor--”

“I can’t go to one now! He’s got all my information, Sy! The second I go to a doctor and they pull up my name, the insurance company will send a letter, and he’ll know where I’m at!” Sasha interrupted in a panic, eyes wide, hoping Sy hadn’t just done what she thought he had.

“Darlin’, I know. That’s why I called my mom for advice. The answer was under my nose the whole time and I’ve just been so caught up in makin’ sure you were okay and that things are runnin’ smooth around here, that it totally escaped my mind. None of us Syversons were born in a hospital. I was born upstairs in my room, actually.” Sy spoke soothingly as he held Sasha’s shoulders, his blue eyes holding her gaze so she understood that they were on the same page.

“Our family’s been friends with the Taylors for years, and Nat’s taken up her mama’s post. I invited her over so y’all two can get acquainted. If you end up likin’ her, she’ll be your midwife and see things through with us to the end. Her husband is actually one of my best friends. We served together. If she manages to wrangle him away from his job, it’ll be more like an afternoon barbeque than anything else. Don’t panic, mama. I got you.”

Sasha took a deep, shaking breath, emotion threatening to get the best of her once more. Pressing her face into Sy’s chest, she was silent for a few breaths before looking up at him, her eyes glazed with tears.

“Why are you doing all this for me, Sy? You barely know me.” She whimpered, her breath hitching in her chest as Sy kissed her tears away, his smile sweet and understanding.

“Because someone helped me once, and I’m in the position to do the same. And because you’ve been doin’ a lot for me too, mama, without even realizin’ it.” At the confusion on Sasha’s face, Sy’s smile grew.

“I don’t...I don’t open up to people much, darlin’. I’ve told you more than I’ve told...anyone...in years. And I’ve been sleepin’ through the night, which never happens. I don’t know what kinda magic you brought with you, but I haven’t felt this at peace with life...ever.” He explained, a blush creeping up past his beard, Sy’s long lashes dusting his cheeks as he gazed down at the floor, utterly vulnerable.

Sasha’s guilt was forgotten as she reached up and stroked his face with the back of her hand, bringing Sy’s gaze back to her. No words needed to be said as they stood, an island unto themselves, each understanding the other’s heart in a way they’d never expected to.

“You’re special to me, Sasha. Very special. I hope you know that.” Sy whispered, each word spoken closer to her lips, until his were pressed to hers in the most tender show of affection she’d felt yet. Sasha’s arms slipped around the broad frame of his back as she drank in the gentility that rolled off Sy in waves, knowing she’d never find another man like him.

She could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in his strong arms, floating away on the gentle breeze of his attentive kisses, but the clock on the stove caught the corner of her gaze and she knew they had precious little time to eat and get ready for Nat’s arrival. Still, she couldn’t help but cup his face and tug him down for one, much more playful kiss before they finally parted, each wearing a lopsided, twitterpated smile.

Natalie Taylor was probably the most beautiful woman Sasha had ever seen, and her husband Mark was no slouch either. The couple looked like they were straight off the cover of a magazine, with Mark wearing a smart gray-blue button up, black tie, and matching black slacks, while Nat wore a carmine off-the-shoulder top and high-waisted jeans with heels Sasha was immediately jealous of, even if she’d never worn heels in her life.

Sasha watched Sy greet them both warmly, her anxiety growing as she wondered just what the pair would think of her and Sy being so close, so fast. One look from Natalie however, and Sasha’s worry was thrown out the window.

“Sy, you told me she was pregnant, not that she was damn near ready to go!” Natalie laughed warmly as she stepped out of her heels and made a beeline for Sasha, her long braids trailing behind her like the train of a wedding veil.

“You must be Sasha. God, you’re gorgeous! I’m Natalie, but you can call me Nat,” Natalie smiled, extending her hand, which, like the rest of her, was perfectly manicured. Sasha shook it with a shy smile, wondering if Nat was always this put-together, or if she just dressed up for the initial meeting; she couldn’t imagine a midwife who attended a birth in heels and super luxe-looking fabrics. The cleanup alone would be a nightmare.

“Sy, there’s no way she just ended up at your gate. Where’d you meet her, really?” Nat shot a playful glare over to Syverson, making him laugh.

“At my gate, I swear on my mama.” Sy chuckled as he gave Mark a hug before holding a hand over his heart as though he were pledging allegiance to the flag.

“Sy’s always had a horseshoe up his ass with this type of stuff. Shame it never came in handy outside the wire,” Mark joked with a wink, moving to join his wife, carrying her stuffed-to-the-brim work bag with ease.

“Well, however you two met, I have to say, first and foremost, congratulations. Second, do you know how far along you are, honey?” Nat asked, getting straight to the point, her smile faltering a bit as she saw the marks strewn all over Sasha’s arms and legs. A look back at Sy made him close his eyes and huff out a breath.

“We met three days ago, Nat. None of that was my doing,” Sy explained, doing his best to stay patient, knowing full well everyone assumed the worst, even if they knew him.

“I was about to say…” Nat murmured, shaking her head, her eyes moving back to Sasha with even more kindness than before.

“Good riddance. No one needs a man like that in their lives. Boys, if you’ll excuse us a second, Sasha and I are gonna have a little chit chat about the baby, then we’ll be back.” Natalie said with confidence, taking her bag from Mark before giving him a kiss on the cheek, having to reach up on her tip-toes to do so.

Taking Sasha’s arm in hers, Natalie led her upstairs, keen to find out not only more about the baby, but about what had happened to Sasha and how she’d come into Sy’s life. Sasha moved as though on autopilot, looking back at Sy for reassurance and only feeling better about everything when she got a gentle nod of encouragement from him.

The boys had turned the TV on downstairs by the time Sasha and Nat had closed the door to Sasha’s room, only the faint sound of garbled voices coming through the wood.

“Well, first thing’s first. I’m glad you got out of wherever it was that you were before Sy, ‘cause any more of this,” she pointed to one of the fresher injuries to Sasha’s legs, “and who knows what would have happened. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, sweetie. You’re safe here. Sy’s good people. I’ve known him since I was little and that man’s always gone out of his way to be kind to others. Even more so after he enlisted. Heart of Gold, just like my Mark.” Nat’s words were earnest and sentimental as she unzipped her bag, pulling out everything she’d need to carry out an exam and then some.

Sasha didn’t recognize half of what the devices were, but she panicked a little at the sight of something that looked more like a penis than anything medical ought to. Nat, seeing where Sasha’s gaze had gone, smiled knowingly.

“It’s for an internal ultrasound. Helps me see the baby a little easier. It doesn’t hurt, I promise. Have you had an ultrasound yet?” The concern in her tone came with the last question, Natalie fighting every urge she had to hug the other woman, already feeling for her and the situation she’d escaped from.

Sasha shook her head, too overwhelmed to speak much. Logically she knew she’d have to be examined at some point, she just hadn’t counted on it being so intimate. “I only managed to get to the doctor twice before coming here. Once just to make sure I was carrying, and the second to get some general info on what was normal and what wasn’t.”

“Did they do a blood test?”

“Yeah, but just in-house. Just to confirm.”

“Okay. Well, we can cross that bridge another time, since I didn’t bring my cooler with me today. Don’t worry though, all my testing is done with patient numbers, not names, so if you ex is savvy to that sort of stuff, he won’t be able to tell you apart from any other woman in Texas,” Natalie explained, wishing Sy had told her more of the story over the phone, but understanding that Sasha’s story wasn’t his to tell. Turning to face Sasha after dousing her hands in alcohol, Natalie indicated to the bed with a kind smile.

“If you wanna go ahead and lay down for me, undies off, we’ll have a quick look, and go from there, okay?” Sasha nodded, feeling a touch more anxiety as she moved to lay on her bed, slipping her underwear off as she was told to.

“This won’t hurt, will it?” She couldn’t help but ask, her anxiety getting the better of her and making Sasha’s breathing more laboured than it needed to be.

“Shouldn’t hurt at all, sweetheart,” Nat confirmed, gloving up to do the visual inspection.

Once started, it didn’t take long for Natalie to find the tell-tale signs of abuse she was nearly certain even Sy didn’t know about.

“How long ago were you raped, honey?” She asked as kindly as she could, her face one of sympathy as she watched Sasha tense up immediately.

Though in the back of her mind, Sasha knew what it was, she’d spent years avoiding the word, not wanting to admit it to herself. Tears filled her eyes as she looked over at the nightstand, unwilling to meet Nat’s gaze.

“About f-five days ago,” Sasha mumbled, face red and hot with shame, one arm coming up to cover her eyes. If the house caved in on them at that moment, it would have felt better than remembering her last time with her ex.

“That’s why you ran. I understand. You’re beyond brave, Sasha. Most women, even under those circumstances, are too paralyzed by fear to leave. You took the most important step to save your baby’s life, and that’s something you should be very proud of.”

Though she wasn’t certain anything would come of it, Natalie discreetly took a swab, labeling it separately, and slipping it in her bag, hoping that if nothing else, it could be used later against the man who’d caused Sasha so much physical and psychological pain.

With her visual complete, Nat set up her portable ultrasound and attached the internal wand to it. Anxiety rose up in Sasha once more as she watched Natalie prepare, and before she could stop it, her voice came out in something of a whisper.

“Could...Nevermind.” Quickly correcting herself, Sasha shook her head, wiping furiously at her eyes and chastising herself for being such a baby about things.

"Nuh-uh, honey. None of that holding back nonsense with me. You want or need something you voice it out. Loud and proud, mama." Nat coached, stopping what she was doing and moving to slip a blanket over Sasha’s knees, having a good idea of what the other woman meant to ask.

“No, nevermind. It’s fine. Let’s just get this over with, please.” Angry at herself, Sasha took a deep breath and nodded to Nat, who still looked concerned, but nodded back.

Though the ultrasound was uncomfortable, it didn’t hurt, something which gave Sasha only the smallest bit of joy, as she knew it meant she was healing physically. Looking out the window, she mentally checked out through the rest of the exam, responding only when spoken to, and only with what she needed to say. It was all overwhelming, but having shed enough tears in the past three days, Sasha refused to allow herself more, her internal monologue having nothing good to say about her own behavior.

“Okay, sweetheart. We’re all done. Both you and your baby are in great shape, although I would ask that you start eating more. With Sy around, that shouldn’t be an issue. Man loves to cook,” Nat said with a sympathetic smile, feeling for Sasha even more than before.

Taking a seat by where her patient had sat up, Natalie took Sasha’s hand in hers. Smiling softly, she looked down to meet Sasha’s gaze.

“Do you wanna know what you’re havin’, or do you wanna wait ‘till the day?”

Still lost in her own thoughts, Sasha merely shrugged. “Just want it to be healthy. Nothin’ else matters.”

Natalie’s lips pressed together, the answer breaking her heart. She’d tended to many a battered woman due to her volunteer work at a women’s shelter, but it never got easier to see just how things that were supposed to bring joy on any other occasion, were nearly always reminders of what a woman had endured instead. Rubbing Sasha’s arm, Natalie stood.

“I’ll go get Sy. After all of that, I know you could use a snuggle.”

Sasha decided then and there that she liked Natalie, hoping Sy would keep his word and allow her to entrust the other woman with her and her baby’s care. Though she didn’t outwardly show it, she felt relieved that Nat had the intuition to know when to pull back and keep from being overbearing; it was a rare gift, in Sasha’s experience and one that would be useful during what she could only imagine would be a painful labor.

“That girl’s been through a lot.” Natalie sighed as she took a seat on the couch, handing the ultrasound photos to Syverson. “Sasha’s about 6 months in and she’s gonna be having a baby girl. She was too overwhelmed to even ask about pictures or care about what the sex of the baby is. There were signs of repeated sexual trauma, and she confirmed that she’d been raped two days before coming here. Whoever she was with before? Needs to get bit by a rabid dog and die as slowly as possible, because what he did to her is just…” Natalie couldn’t finish her sentence, too angered by what she’d seen on Sasha’s body to even think of a fitting word.

Without needing to be told, Sy tucked the pictures into the back pocket of his jeans, pointed at Mark then at the barbeque where the steaks were cooking, and jogged upstairs. Knocking softly, he opened the door after getting no reply.

“Hey, darlin’,” he whispered kindly, taking a seat at Sasha’s hip, one hand reaching out to rub the back that was facing him, Sy knowing she was upset just by how heavy the air was. Still getting no response, he slipped the pictures out of his pocket before getting into bed behind Sasha, one hand sliding under her head while the other went around her swollen tummy.

Sy stayed silent, not wanting to push. If Sasha wanted to talk, she would; he’d gladly spend the day with her wrapped up in his arms if it helped her more than talking did. Pressing kisses to her shoulder and the back of her head, it wasn’t long before he felt Sasha’s fingers thread through his over her belly.

“It’s funny how easily you can push something to the back of your mind, to ignore it completely because to believe it means accepting more pain.” Sasha whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. Sy squeezed her hand, urging her to continue

“Nat asked me point blank if I’d been raped, and up until she said it that way, I’d never once thought of what had happened to me, as that. He was basically my husband, I just...I always told myself that it was normal. That husbands just took whenever they wanted to get their rocks off, y’know? But in the back of my head I knew. Knew it wasn’t normal to...to bleed after, stuff like that. Back when I had friends, they always went on and on about how good it felt, and I just...It’s never felt good. Never.” Sniffling, she curled further into the pillow she held against her chest.

Feeling his rage rise to meet the bile that made a knot in his throat, Sy breathed deeply, reminding himself that it would do neither of them any good to be angry at a man who wasn’t there to answer for his crimes. Stroking a hand over her hair, he gently shifted them until Sasha sat with her back pressed to his chest. Holding her close, he tucked his face into the crook of her neck, choosing his words carefully before speaking.

“It shouldn’t ever hurt. Even if you’re just havin’ a one-night-stand. What he did to you wasn’t out of love, like a husband’s supposed to. He did it to control you, to make you fear ‘im, because he’s a weak sonofabitch. I can’t imagine the kind of pain you suffered under his hand, but I know one thing; it backfired on him, big time. Because the moment he put this lil’ one in ya, he made you the strongest woman on earth and no amount of fear or control could keep ya. You fought, you got out, and you got to somewhere safe. Never again will he have any power over you. Never.”

Sasha felt herself smiling as she realized that Sy was speaking the truth. She had gotten out, gotten away, gotten somewhere safe. All because of her baby. Sniffling, she wrapped his arms around her tighter, Sy gladly giving her another squeeze as he kissed her cheek fondly.

“Wanna see your lil’ one, mama?” Sy murmured against her cheek, his own smile growing as he slipped the pictures into view, resting them on her bump.

Sasha’s breath hitched in her throat as she took in the grainy, black and white image of her baby. Though there wasn’t a lot of detail, it was easy to see the baby was at ease, sucking on its thumb.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Sasha asked, remembering Natalie’s question, and immediately regretting her answer. She did want to know.

“That right there, darlin’, is your lil’ sweetpea,” Sy whispered, surprised when he found his own voice thick with emotion. Sy let out a wet chuckle when Sasha practically dove onto him, hugging him tightly.

“Congratulations, mama,” he murmured against her hair, Sy’s expression softening as he felt Sasha cup his face. Their gazes connected only for a moment before she brought him down, their lips connecting in a way that made both their hearts sing.

#henry cavill #syverson x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fic #fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #willow run

270 notes · View notes

rmtndew · 4 years

Text

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 3

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0-blog, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora,

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Wednesday morning we had so many orders to fill that I was left filling the one for the police station all by myself. I saved Marshall’s for last and when I knew Darcy wasn’t looking (not that she would have minded), I wrote a quick note on the paper sleeve the cookies went in.

‘Thank you again for Saturday night - Fiona’

Then I put in two extra cookies in the sleeve and placed it in the box before sealing it with the store sticker.

When I arrived at the station, I kept my eye out for Marshall, hoping to see him again. Despite being convinced that he wasn’t interested in me and that nothing would come out of my crush on him, I hadn’t been interested in anyone since Ezra had broken up with me and it felt nice to know that I was capable of feeling things again.

I worked quickly, doing my best to not be sloppy, as I tried to get done before Marshall could come in. I wanted an excuse to take his lunch to his office. I craved the opportunity to talk to him one on one again, even if it was short. I managed to set all of the orders out and pack up my stuff before he came in, so I grabbed his box and excitedly made my way towards his office. I was looking for his name on the doors and almost passed his up because his door was open, making the nameplate hard to see. I backed up and stood in the doorway for a moment, deciding how to announce myself. I finally settled for knocking on the outside wall. There was no answer. I waited for about half a minute before stepping in. I looked around, but his office was empty.

My heart sank a little, but I went to his desk so that I could leave his lunch on it, but it was almost completely covered in files and folders and notepads. There was a small space right in front of his chair that was empty with the exception of a yellow Post It note. Since his desk was full, I decided to leave the box on his chair, but when I circled around to it, I glanced at the note, then did a double take.

‘Thanks for lunch, Fi.’

I immediately started blushing. I almost wanted to take the note with me but I didn’t. I left his lunch and got out of there before someone came by and wondered why a delivery girl was in one of the detective’s offices smiling like a lunatic.

The rest of my day, to put it mildly, was a real dumpster fire. I got a flat tire and had to change it on a busy road where no one stopped to help, but a few people did honk. Back at work, I burnt my forearm taking bread out of the oven. Then, when I checked my phone before getting in the car to go home, I saw that I had two unread texts from Demi. One was cold but simply said that being friends with me was no longer working for her. The second, sent an hour later, went into greater detail and basically circled back on her comment the other night about me being ‘immature’. I tried to hold it together, I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn’t. I sat in my car and cried. It was the only safe space where I could cry like that in peace. Or at least I thought it was. After several minutes, there was a knock on my window. I expected to see Darcy checking in on me. Instead it was Marshall. I was so surprised to see him that I stopped crying immediately and let out a little squeak.

His brow was knitted together in concern as he made a hand motion for me to roll my window down. I did and he lowered his head to look me in the face. “Are you alright?”

I tried to smile and nodded, but then I realized how silly that was. No one cries in their car when they’re fine. It wouldn’t take a skilled detective to figure that one out. So I paused, let out a breath, then shook my head. “No. I’m having a bad day,” I said. “But it’ll pass.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Can I…?” He pointed to my passenger’s seat.

“Yeah.” I unlocked my doors and wiped at my tears, trying to dry my cheeks as he walked around. When he sat in my car, his knees went up to his chest and his eyes went wide for a second, looking like a confused puppy. I laughed. “You can adjust the seat with the bar in the front,” I said. “Sorry, I should have slid it back before you got in. Mom’s the only person who sits there and she’s pretty tiny.”

“It’s alright,” he said, pulling on the bar under the seat and sending it back almost all the way. He let out a relieved breath as he stretched his long legs out.

“Why…” I started and trailed off. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“So you’re not here for your case?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t have your number. I called here and your boss said that if I hurried, I might catch you.”

I turned in my seat so that I could look at him better. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Will you tell me about your day first?” he asked, reaching out to put his hand on my forearm, right on my burn. It hurt and I instinctively pulled my arm away. He looked confused, his wide puppy eyes coming back. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I shouldn’t have -”

“No, you’re fine. It’s not you.” I pushed my sweater sleeve towards my elbow and held my arm out for him to see. “I burnt myself earlier. I was getting bread out of the oven.”

“Is that what you were upset about?”

“It’s one of the reasons. It’s just been a horrible afternoon.”

“Can I make an offer that might help?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He looked at me, pursing his lovely lips for a moment, then said, “Would you let me buy you coffee?”

I laughed. “Out of pity?”

He smiled, a full beautiful smile, showing his teeth. “If that’ll make you say yes, then sure.”

“Oh,” I said, heat creeping up my ears. “Oh. You really want to take me out to coffee?”

He swallowed. My eyes were instantly drawn to his Adam’s apple as it moved. “If you would let me, yes.”

I suddenly felt shy and couldn’t look at him. “I, um… I would love to.”

“Would right now be a good time for you?”

I nodded. “It would be perfect,” I said. “Unless it interferes with your job and your case.”

“We actually closed the case today.”

I smiled. “So you had the good afternoon,” I said. “Congratulations.”

“It hardly feels like a victory but I’m pleased that it’s finally closed and to have answers for the family.”

“You don’t strike me as the type of person who finds victory in any case as long as there are victims.”

He let out a breath and shook his head. “No, I don’t.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs, almost nervous looking. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee,” I said. “Do you have anywhere particular in mind?”

“There’s a place called South York, do you know it?”

My anxiety hit me in a rush. I was caught between excited nervousness from the offer of coffee with Marshall, to a sudden kick of nerves at the mention of South York. I was trying to figure out a way to politely suggest another place without getting into detail as to why, when he caught my eye and smiled.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, I do, it used to be my favorite.”

“Used to be?”

“I, um, I just had a bad experience the last time I was there.”

His brow furrowed again as he looked at me more intently. “I have a feeling you’re referring to more than just a bad cup of coffee, yeah?”

I nodded. “But I feel like every time I’m around you, I end up telling you more about myself than you’re bargaining for, so I won’t go into details.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk. “Well, I am a detective and getting people to talk is a big part of my job, so maybe that bit is on me,” he said. “And just because I’m not great at talking doesn’t mean that I mind other people who are.”

“That’s the thing - I’m not, it’s just when I’m around you.”

“Is that a bad thing, though?”

I rubbed my neck. “I don’t know. My ex-boyfriend used to hate it when I rambled, so it can get annoying, I guess.”

“Is that why you broke up with him? Because he was an idiot?”

I smiled. “I should have dumped him because he was an idiot, but no, he actually broke up with me,” I said, my smile faltering. “Right after I got the call about my dad’s wreck.” I managed to look him in the eye. “We were on a date at South York.”

I watched his eyes change as he took in what I said. There was no more soft puppy, it was all angry ocean like it had been that night in the bar. I hated admitting to myself how much I liked that look when I knew he was angry on my behalf.

“He broke up with you after you found out about your father dying?” he asked, his voice tight.

“Dad wasn’t… He died later that night. I just knew that it was a bad car wreck. I went into shock after Mom called me, so I was calm when I told him what happened. He said later that he didn’t think it was that serious because I wasn’t reacting like it was. But the whole time he was driving me to the hospital to drop me off, he kept asking if I understood what was going on, that we were through.” I shook my head. “I had never wanted to throat punch someone as much as I did him, and if he hadn’t been driving, I probably would have.”

“For a completely unrelated reason, I need his full name and last known address.”

I laughed. “There’s a very big part of me that would actually love to give that to you.”

“What’s stopping it and what can I do to change it?”

“I don’t know that you can change it because what’s stopping it is the other, bigger part of me that would rather start with a clean slate and not be the woman you have to rescue from a bar and has the idiotic ex-boyfriend who needs to be taught a lesson.”

“You’re not either of those.”

“I’m just the wreck you find crying in her car and won’t stop talking?”

He shook his head, his brown curls bouncing at the nape of his neck. “No. You’re the beautiful woman who seems to be holding everything together as best as she can and is having a hard day,” he said. “And who left me a lovely surprise of extra cookies.”

I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as my heart began pounding. I stretched my palms out on my legs, trying to covertly wipe the sweat that was suddenly pouring from them. I swallowed hard. “You think I’m beautiful?” I asked, my voice a rough whisper.

“You are beautiful.” He said it like a fact.

I looked at him from under my lashes, feeling too shy to look at him straight on. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

South York had been my favorite coffee shop since my senior year of high school, but that afternoon my new favorite became Birchwood Coffee. Sitting at a table by the window with Marshall, feeling the last of the afternoon’s sun shining through, warming me up as we drank coffee while we sat talking was the loveliest feeling that I’d had in a long time. I’d forgotten what it was like to have someone interested in me. Someone who cared enough to ask me questions and actually listen. I’d been lonely for so long, I’d forgotten that that’s what it was. I thought it was just a part of me, like my anxiety used to be, like my grief was. But talking to him I realized it was something far easier to sweep away. At least he made it seem easier.

“Do you mind if I ask about your daughter?” I said.

“What would you like to know?”

“You told me that she was thirteen, but I don’t think you told me her name.”

“It’s Faye.”

“That’s pretty,” I said. “What’s she like?”

He ran a hand over his beard, his fingers combing through it while he thought. He gave a small laugh as he let his hand fall back to his thigh. “She’s stubborn and strong willed, like me. But she’s smarter, far smarter than I was as a teenager. A lot more social, too. Which doesn’t make it easy to keep up with all of her friends, but I try,” he said. “And she can hold her own. She won’t take crap from anyone. Her mother and I got called into a meeting at her school not long ago. A boy had flipped up a girl’s skirt and tried taking a picture. Faye pushed him and he broke his nose when he fell. His parents wanted an apology for assaulting him. She refused. She said that if they were going to excuse him harassing a girl and attempting to violate her privacy as ‘boys just being boys’, then her physical assault to prevent him from doing that was just ‘girls having to be girls’ and that she should get the same slap on the wrist that he got. I said, ‘good girl’ and we both got kicked out.”

I smiled. “Did she get in trouble?”

He shook his head as he picked up his coffee cup. “No. My ex-wife is far more level headed - not to mention better at arguing her point - and she handled it.”

“Is it hard spending time with her with your job? I imagine you don’t have the typical nine to five hours,” I asked as he took a sip of his coffee. Again, my eyes were drawn to his Adam’s apple. I tried to drag my sight away before he caught me staring.

“We make it work,” he said. “I try to take her to school as often as I can and she stays over on occasion.”

He had an errant curl that drooped down over his forehead and I had to restrain myself from reaching out to brush it back. Something about him inspired a desire in me to take care of him. I wanted to make sure he got enough sleep, drank enough water, ate right and regularly while working a case. I couldn’t explain it.

He set his cup down on the table, his hand still clutching it. His arm was close enough to my own that was resting on the table in front of me that I could feel the heat from it. “How’s your mum?” he asked.

“She’s...okay. She’s going a bit stir crazy and keeps talking about going back to work, but I don’t know if she’s ready for it.”

“What did she do?”

“She taught music. The violin,” I said. “That’s how she met my dad; they both played the violin in the city orchestra when they were in college.”

“Did he teach as well?”

“No. He was a physics engineer. I think music was just a way to shut off the analytical part of his brain for a while.”

“Do you play the violin, too?”

I laughed. “No. That was my form of rebellion, I refused to play it or any stringed instrument.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I did play the piano, though.”

“You did? Not anymore?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t played in the last couple of years. With everything going on, it just slipped to the bottom of my list.”

He nodded. “That’s understandable.”

“Do you play any instruments?”

He laughed, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a smile, making a dimple visible on his cheek through his beard. “No, I was never patient enough for that. I was always outside, running about or riding bikes with my brother, getting up to no good.”

“Were you a trouble maker as a kid?”

He kept smiling as he nodded. “Nothing terrible. Not like the boys who stole or damaged other people’s property, but yeah, we got into our fair share of trouble.”

One of the women who worked at the shop came to our table to ask if we needed refills on our coffee. I passed but Marshall accepted. While she poured it for him, I couldn’t help but notice how she looked at him, how unnecessarily close she stood, how her touch lingered on his fingers as she handed his cup back. I couldn’t tell if he was really good at pretending not to notice her attention or if he was so used to having women fawning over him that he’d become oblivious to it. Something told me that it wasn’t the latter. The thought that I held his attention above all of the attractive options surrounding him made my heart flutter. I tried to hold back the smile that thought brought on, but I couldn’t. He noticed.

“You’re smiling. What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that you’re a pretty good cure for a rotten day.”

Eventually, despite all the coffee he kept drinking, exhaustion seemed to catch up to Marshall. I noticed him yawning more and more, and his already limited talking slowing down. When I pointed it out, he apologized but admitted that he hadn’t slept much while working his case and that it was finally getting to him. I told him that I understood and that as much as I was enjoying myself, it would make me feel even better if he went home and got some much needed sleep. He agreed, but not before asking if we could exchange numbers. I’d never given mine out with so much enthusiasm.

We’d parked side by side in front of the shop and he walked me to my car. After I unlocked it, I looked at him. He was standing in front of me, the warm lights of the coffee shop shining behind him, lighting him up like some other worldly being. I couldn’t remember ever being more attracted to someone as much as I was him in that moment.

“Thank you for the coffee. I really enjoyed it,” I said.

“Yeah, I did, too,” he agreed. “Would you like to do it again sometime? Perhaps when I’ve had a little more sleep?”

I smiled. “I’d love to. I’m very interested in what a fully rested Marshall is like.”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly, smiling back at me. “I don’t know if he exists anymore, but I can offer you a partially rested one, how’s that?”

“I’ll take it.”

He nodded, chewing the corner of his lip for a moment. “Can I call you?”

It shouldn’t have caused butterflies when he asked me that, we’d just exchanged numbers after all, but the simple act of him asking made my stomach feel like a thousand butterflies had taken flight. I tried to stay calm looking on the outside, though.

“Yes. Of course. Whenever you’re free.”

He gave me a smile, the kind where it was more in his eyes than his mouth, and I loved what it did to his already beautiful eyes. “I’m probably going to go home and sleep for the next four days, so it may be some time after that, but I’ll call you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “Now go home and rest.”

His smile widened. “Yes, ma’am.”

I called out for Mom as soon as I got in the door. She had been in the kitchen and came and met me in the entryway after I locked the door. When I saw her, I let out a happy little squeal.

“A good date, I take it?” she said, beaming at me.

“He’s just so stinking handsome!” I exclaimed. “And he’s lovely. And he smells nice. And he’s so warm that you can feel it just by sitting next to him. And I swear he’d be the biggest teddy bear if I could ever get the chance to hug him.” I sighed. “Mom, I feel like a teenager. I’ve not had a crush on someone like this in my entire adult life. I never felt this way about Ezra. Ever.”

“I’m so happy for you, sweetie,” she said. “What Ezra did to you was wrong. Breaking up with you after Dad’s wreck was bad enough, but leaving your stuff on our front lawn while we were at the hospital, and then ransacking your apartment to get his stuff back while we were making funeral arrangements.” She shook her head. “I still get so angry when I think about it. No one deserves being treated that coldly, especially not you, Bird.”

“And you let him know it, didn’t you?” I said, taking off my coat. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when you told him to sit down so that you could look him in the eye while you scolded him. That was a lot of anger jam packed in a tiny lady.”

“Am I going to have to do that with your Detective Marshall?”

“Scold him? I don’t think so. Sit him down so that you can look him in the eye? Absolutely,” I said “But it’s just Marshall, Mom. I’m not naive enough to believe he’s my anything after a single coffee date.”

I may not have believed it, but it didn’t keep me from wanting it.

#Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Night Hunter #Nomis #All I've Ever Known #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Night Hunter fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #HenryCavillFanfic #Walter MarshallFanfic

153 notes · View notes

ao3porcelainstorm · 4 years

Text

poison ivy & stinging nettles 1

'A Case of Poison Ivy and Stinging Nettles'

“Very original title, John,” Sherlock snorted. John glared up at his friend, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

"The whole case was about betrayal, plants, and pharmaceuticals," he shot back. "It's a clever title." "What about chemistry? There was plenty of chemistry." "Our client was a botanist," John rolled his eyes and continued typing at the laptop. "Don't worry, there's plenty of mention of your glorious prowess with chemical reactions."

On Ao3

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 2

Chapter 1- Amelia

~~~

Unlike most cases on this blog, Sherlock and I stumbled into this one quite accidentally.

Sherlock had made Mrs. Hudson upset, and when I revealed that it was her birthday, I quickly ushered him to the nearest florist.

That was where we met Amelia Brenner, the first person I'd ever known that spoke the language of the flowers fluently.

~~~

Amelia Brenner disliked the rain that so often plagued London. If she had a choice in the matter, she would have been back home, probably sunbathing on the rooftop of her Brooklyn apartment. Unfortunately, life had a cruel sense of humor, and that led to Amelia's present circumstances.

She often lamented that she was the one being punished for having done right by society, but the brief periods of sunshine that occasionally peaked through the London skyline, reminded her that this wasn't the all terrible exile she'd convinced herself it was.

Today, was one of those rare, beautiful, days.

And there were two grown men in the front of her flower shop bickering over which flowers they needed to purchase to appease their landlady.

“Roses are safe,” she suggested, eyes trailing to the clear sky outside longingly. “Red and yellow are happiness and excitement. Just yellow mean friendship.”

“I didn't realize flowers had their own language,” the shorter gentleman turned around with a nervous chuckle. He looked out of place, and clearly overwhelmed, but no so much as the dark-hair man beside him.

“Perfect, that'll do,” the second man shot in, visibly annoyed at the entire situation.

Amelia was just as eager to get the men out of her shop, and quickly moved to the side of the shop where she stored her roses in a refrigerator.

“Shouldn't we get her something more meaningful?” the shorter man asked, as Amelia's fingers nearly touch the stem of the yellow roses. She froze, throwing on a bright smile and turning around.

“Do you know what her favorite flowers are? We could add them to the rose bouquet,” she suggested, a passing child and their laughing friends running by with ice cream reminded her of her urgency to close up early for the day.

“God if I know,” the brunette shrugged impatiently. “John, you remember pointless things like that. Why don't you know?”

“You've known her longer, Sherlock,” the blonde, John, shot back. “Not once, have you gotten her a birthday present?”

“It didn't seem important,” he muttered, turning his attention to the numerous displays sitting in the shop window.

“I'm sorry, my friend is a bit difficult when it comes to any semblance of intimacy or emotional attachment,” John shot his turned away friend a scowl before approaching Amelia. “Are there any flowers that mean, 'beloved friend', or something similar?”

Amelia paused, half-tempted to just grab the yellow roses, but John seemed earnest in his request, despite the difficult behavior his friend was displaying.

“You know what...” Amelia moved toward a different section of the store where she had various flowers set in plastic vases for “do-it-yourself” bouquets. “Tell me about your landlady.”

“She's an older woman,” John started, hesitating slightly. “Very kind. Always has a cup of tea ready for you on a bad day.”

“Nosy, likes invading your personal space,” Sherlock chimed in.

“It's because you do things like shoot bullets through walls,” John reminded him tersely. “She gets concerned.”

Amelia plucked a few coreopsis, orange geraniums, and a large sunflower. Grabbing a few sprigs of sage and some Queen Anne's lace for accents, she moved to the main counter and dug through her drawers for a crystal vase she'd seen laying around.

It didn't take long for her to take the random assortment of flowers and turn them into a gorgeous display of yellows and orange. The white accents of the lace, pulled the whole thing together in a practical, tasteful way.

“What do they all mean?” John asked, glancing up from the card Amelia had given him to fill out and attach to the bouquet.

“Queen Anne's lace means sanctuary,” Amelia lightly touched the small white flowers. “A short sunflower means adoration, geraniums mean true friendship, sage means wisdom, and corepsis mean always cheerful.”

“That's perfect,” John practically beamed up at her, signing both his and Sherlock's name to the bottom of the card.

Amelia rang up his purchase, giving the men a small discount because she felt a little bad about their circumstances. Especially, once John went into more detail about exactly what it was his friend had done (something about a snippy comment about the woman's sweater).

“You said a short sunflower means adoration, what does a tall one mean?” Sherlock spoke up, looking quite uncomfortable as John shoved the vase into his hands.

Amelia had to bite her bottom lip to keep down the giggle that wanted to erupt with her response. She swallowed it down, turning it into a cough before coolly responding.

“Haughtiness.”

John snorted a laugh and ushered Sherlock out of the store before the taller man could make a comment. He thanked Amelia again over his shoulder and was gone in a flash.

Amelia quickly ran to the front door, flipping over the open sign to “closed”, and locked it in place. She looked at her watch and calculated she had about three hours until the sun began to set, giving her plenty of time to sit in the green house she'd constructed on the roof, and take in a bit of the sunshine with her plants.

She tided up the shop, humming an excited tune under her breath while she cashed out the register and wiped down the counters. All was going smoothly until a very urgent visitor began pounding at her front door.

Thinking she'd forgotten an order, or perhaps John or Sherlock had dropped something, she unlocked the door and swung it open.

What Amelia hadn't anticipated was the front end of a pistol to bed shoved into her chest and a group of three men to storm into her tiny space.

The last man in quickly closed the door behind him, while the other two started pulling down blinds, the gun still trained on a stunned Amelia.

“Can I help you?” she stammered, her hands up in defense, trying to think of an escape plan through the fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. The backdoor was too far. There weren't any nearby windows.

She was stuck.

One of the men kicked down a display. Gerbera daisies scattered across the floor in a splash of color that the man quickly stepped on, and twisted his foot. He chuckled at Amelia's face, distorted in distress at the careless handling of the flowers she'd dedicated her free time to.

“The data set,” the man with the gun snarled. Amelia noticed he was missing a front tooth, and that had distracted her considerably. He fired a bullet near her feet, repeating his question.

“I have no idea what that means,” she whimpered in response. The men were working their way around the shop, kicking over display, stomping on flowers, and pouring lighter fluid over their destroyed remains.

“Don't play dumb sweetheart, it's not a good look,” he stepped closer, pressing the tip of the weapon into her cheek. “The data set with the clinical trial results. A mutual friend wants it back.”

Amelia continued feigning ignorance, despite knowing precisely what data set he was referring to. It was safely tucked away in a deposit box, across town, under an assumed name.

“I just deal in flowers,” she insisted, a small sob pulling from her chest as they continued to demolished her little shop. “If you look to the bottom of your boots, that's the pretty stuff you're destroying.”

“Don't get cheeky with me,” the man with the gun snapped back. "An American in London, setting up shop just after the biggest data breach in Chemco's history..."

“And what are you going to do about it? Shoot me?” Amelia regretted the words the instant they left her mouth. The small wave of confidence immediately fading while he moved forward. He pulled his hand back and hit her across the face with the end of his weapon.

“Am I interrupting something?” a voice asked, just familiar enough where Amelia caught her breath when she identified the source.

The king of sunflowers himself, standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest.

Sherlock Holmes.

“You'd be wise to turn around and pretend you haven't seen a thing,” the man with the gun aimed it toward Sherlock with a wicked grin. “This doesn't have to involve you.”

“I see,” he hummed, his eyes trailing over the scene, falling on Amelia and what she assumed was a large bruise forming under her eye. “Unfortunately, I left my mobile at the register, so if someone would be so inclined?”

The man closest to Amelia threw an elbow in her side, shoving her toward the register.

“Go on then,” he hissed, his weapon still aimed at the newcomer.

Amelia practically jumped at the touch, slowly edging her way toward the register. There was no cell phone left behind. No one had time to ask questions, because during the lull in the room, Sherlock moved.

With a crack, he smashed a large vase over the man with the gun. The goon collapsed on the floor with a grunt, the other two men moving into action with swinging fists.

Sherlock dodged the attacks, throwing one man into the counter top and knocking the other to the floor unconscious with a swift punch.

He looked up at Amelia, brow arched in question.

“Why does it smell like petrol?” he asked, an instant before one of the men tossed a lighter across the floor to Amelia's destroyed daisies.

Amelia bounded across the space in a flurry, catching him by the waist, and tackling him through the shop's open door to the busy street outside. She rolled across the ground, only being caught by the shoulder before hitting the curb.

It didn't take long for the shop to erupt into flames, the lighter fluid speeding up the consumption which the plants happily provided.

Dazed, Amelia and Sherlock gaped from outside as smoke billowed from the building.

Pedestrians screamed or stopped to get a better look. Somewhere in her muddled mind, Amelia heard someone calling the fire department.

“There's a green house on the roof,” Sherlock murmured. “Do you have fertilizer in the building?”

She sure did. Right by the register and tucked away in the workroom. She was going to bring it up that day.

Amelia's eyes widened at the realization, and it didn't take her new companion long to determine the answer.

Practically lifting her from their position, he dragged her stumbling across the street just as the first explosion sounded through the block, sending glass shattering across the area.

Dropping to the ground, covered in soot, small cuts, and dirt, Amelia looked to him and sighed.

“Thanks,” she said, resting her head against the brick building they ended on, and watching what little happiness she'd obtained burn to the ground. Go figure.

Fire sirens wailed through the block, firemen ushered passerby's out of the way, and before long, Sherlock and Amelia were scooped up by EMTs.

When she was patched up, an officer took her to Scotland Yard for a statement.

Amelia told the officers investigating that it had been a robbery gone wrong. No, she didn't know why they wanted to destroy her shop. She grew daisies and wrapped roses, why would she understand why they threw lighter fluid around the place? Of course it was reasonable that fertilizer was in a flower shop. She grew her own flowers after all.

Eventually, she was released from Scotland Yard, exhausted from the day, but with no where to go, considering her apartment was above the shop.

She had money in the bank, but her debit card and ID had been under the register when the shop caught fire. It was going to take some time before she could get what she needed to book out a hotel room. One of the officers had given her an address to a hostel they recommended to fire victims until things were settled, but the idea of something so public made Amelia nervous. She already wasn't thrilled that the news had covered the fire.

“Why lie to the police?” a baritone voice asked over her shoulder. Amelia nearly jumped out of her skin at the presence, whipping her head around and finding Sherlock standing a few meters away.

“Excuse me?” Amelia wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly, her mind numb and tired from the days events. She just wanted a shower and a fresh change of clothes, not the second degree from this vigilante ninja detective.

“You lied to the police, you said it was a robbery,” he repeated, taking a few steps toward her, his blue eyes skimming over her face. “You're a bad liar, and that obviously wasn't a normal robbery. They were looking for something specific.”

Amelia had over heard some of the officers at the station talking about Sherlock when she revealed he had been the one who had saved her. When she asked the officer taking her statement, he just shrugged and said that he was a consultant to the Yard, but others certainly had stronger feelings about the subject.

Amelia looked around the street, largely empty aside from a few taxis and a couple walking along the sidewalk across the road.

“Fine, I'll bite,” she replied. “I'm in possession of some important research regarding a drug that's about to be finalized by the FDA and the NHS.”

“I'd venture to guess this research isn't beneficial to the company?” he asked.

“They blew up my shop and pistol whipped me,” Amelia laughed bitterly, her hand moving to touch the swollen spot on her face. “It certainly isn't rainbows and sunshine cures.”

He paused, considering her words before speaking again.

“Do you know who sent the men?” he asked, and Amelia shrugged, exhaustion continuing to creep over her. She still smelled like smoke and gasoline, her arms and clothes still ripped and black. Not that she could do anything about it.

“I'm assuming the CEO,” Amelia replied, a hint of irritation was rising in her voice as she realized how hopeless her night was going to be.

“And why would a CEO become personally involved in a bad publicity matter?” he inquired. It was a reasonable question, and Amelia might have avoided specifics but she was in no mood to play games, and it seemed this guy was going to get his answers eventually. Besides, she owed him some explanation for saving her life.

“Because she's my mother.”

Chapter 2

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock bbc #sherlock/ofc #sherlock original female character #sherlock/oc #john watson #fanfiction #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock/reader #watson

8 notes · View notes

likeawildthing · 5 years

Note

in terms of design advice, any ideas for a broke college student apartment room? 💕💕

college is a weird time because you are kind of a grown up but also definitely not! and your interests and tastes will change so rapidly in the next few years. so honestly it’s a great time to experiment and be creative. this advice all depends on your particular space, but in any small space everything that can be double duty, should be double duty (night stand is also a tv tray/laptop tray, art is also bulletin board or jewelry holder), the more uses you can get out of something, the better! going vertical on the walls where you can get away with it is amazing. here are a few easy and cheap ways to upgrade and some basic design principles:

take this design quiz to find out your style (plug in a fake email) and then google or pinterest away. you’ll see repeat themes (for ex. major bohemian trend is macrame, which easily DIYable, or MCM is all about legs and clean profiles). maybe that would be fun post - to highlight different styles and trends. but here are some upgrades that translate to any design style for cheap:

PLANTS

don’t go to a nursery and drop a hundred dollars you don’t have. a plant or two or three you really love will change the vibe of the whole space, and give you something to take care of, which is ofc good for your mental health. tips for getting plants and planters on the cheap!

think of a relative or friend who already has houseplants and ask for free ones next time they’re splitting. i literally did my entire garden this way in my first place.

look on like FB marketplace or whatever your swap site is because people are often selling plants or cuttings for a discount.

i have literally split the cost of a plant with a friend and then split it in half, like a baby before Solomon

pothos plants of any kind are easy to take care of and can split into smaller plants pretty regularly.

succulents are usually a few dollars at the store and everyone loves them! start with one simple succulent.

herbs! if you get herb garden seeds or plants you literally make what you eat!

if you have pets, make sure they are pet friendly.

i do not spend a lot of $$ on planters! i use terra cotta because 1. they’re cheap as hell and 2. cute! some of my favorite planters are terra cotta pots kristina painted for me! you can also thrift pots, which i would encourage, or reuse food containers by putting small holes in the bottom.

create hanging plants by making yarn macrame holders! youtube is your friend on this! you can get a ceiling hook for like $3 if it’s a solid ceiling (drywall) and super easy to patch up when it’s time to leave.

ART

function + form. something organic that you can change out inspiration or art, like a cork or inspiration board (look on like a varage sale or in a thrift store for this). you can get four12x12 cork boards from target for $7 and create something like this from two of them, which is in and of itself a piece of art (and you can take it down w/out damaging walls)

other cheap things i have done for art:

calendar or magazine pages in thrifted frames (my favorite cheap tricks is to get matte black or white craft paint for $1.25 from wm or target and paint a bunch of odd frames to unify them)

a picture ledge like this from ikea is your best friend because you can interchange the art to be whatever you want!

embroidery hoop fabric bulletin boards

seriously, posters are cool. get a cheap poster online and hang it with washi tape. it’s not precious. if you want something more grown up, try to thrift a frame for it for cheap. if you don’t like the color of the frame, paint it! if you can’t hang something heavy like this on the wall, use command velcro strips OR set it on top of a dresser or bookcase and lean it against the wall.

i love tassels and buntings. just google either of those and you’ll get thousands of cheap ideas. in my last bedroom i just had a bunting i cut and made over my bed and it acted like a bedframe and i loved it.

just free prints from the internet hung up with little clips like this ($2 from target) or bulky push pins – those holes are so easy to patch!

when my kids were little until two weeks ago i had an entire wall covered with their artwork. i’m saying maybe go to the thrift store, get some ugly canvases with your friends, and have a painting party. everyone brings a $4 thing of acrylic paint and a brush and have a party. good memories + new art for everyone. swap at the end!

pictures! actually print out those pictures and tape them to the wall with washi tape. you can also do something like this with push pins for as big or small as you want to make it (i have this in my living room

here’s a proper primer on the 7 elements of design, but you can skip that and go here if you want!

BALANCE

white space and focal points. in the same way that you need to break up one massive wall of text into digestible paragraphs, you also need to break up the focus in your room. a FOCAL POINT is a statement area in your room (i.e. the window, over your bed, your desk) that your eye is drawn to, and where you want your eye to be drawn to. ideally rooms should have ONE focal point (that’s like the adverb room for writing) but in a dorm apartment, that isn’t practical because it HAS to be multifunction. the important takeaway is that white space on your walls is okay, and important. it gives you a soft space to land, visually, which is important in making you feel more relaxed and even productive.

groupings – grouping like with like makes great sense organizationally AND design wise. a collection of postcards will look amazing on the wall together rather than spread around the room.

LAYERS

adding layers can make a space feel luxurious – curtains, rugs, extra throw pillows or an extra blanket on your bed or chair. plants are great for this, but fabrics and baskets can add another layer. these can be pricey so i would a. raid your mom’s house if that’s an option and ask if she needs ‘x’ rug or curtains anymore. you can also thrift curtains for cheapppp or even look for clearance fabric – once you wash the curtains they really are safe to use. clearance frabric can be hemmed without being sewn and hung with curtain rings if you need to. and $5 tension rods can work as a curtain rod inside a window frame if needed. i could do a whole post on this but a cheap rug next to your bed and something soft on a window can do wonders! dude i have also bought cheap cotton weave cloth from walmart and used rit dye to make turqoise curtains and i loved for years. see also: RIT DYE

so decorative pillows are expensive as HELL but regular, cheap pillows are like $4. i get cheap fabric or thrift fabric and sew my own, which you could do by hand, really, and use the pillow stuffing to make it. ikea also sells great cheap pillow covers!

COLOR

gosh there are no hard and fast rule here but here is a great primer series on color theory for design that you can translate to your room

simplifying a color palette will feel more calming to you, and so will using cool colors like blues and greens. but again, no hard and fast rules. repeat a color or element (shape, pattern) throughout a room 3x (ex. i have a blue rug and that same blueish tone is in a chair and also on a bookshelf. they don’t have to be the same blue, just color family, and it makes it all seem more intentional)

HOW TO DO IT CHEAPLY

buy secondhand. there are entire thrift makeover and upcycle youtube channels that are amazing! same for diy blogs.

reuse and repurpose what you have. i turned a dvd player box into a toy oven for my kids and they used it as a play kitchen for four years. my bookshelf that stores our games in my living room was $12 from salvation army - i just painted it and added casters for $15. my dresser was a thrift from the REstore, a habitat for humanity store. my end tables are actually butcher block pieces that were in my dad’s factory for forty years. i love bringing old things back to a different life. and you don’t always need a ton of tools to do it.

barter and trade. i traded a one of my kid’s dressers for the hutch that holds our toiletries outside of our upstairs bathrooms.

sell and repurchase something that works for you. i sold my old bookshelves on fb marketplace and bought another that actually works better. this isn’t applicable to everyone!

make muffins for someone in exchange for their sewing skills or knowledge. i’m teaching my friend to sew right now! libraries often have classes and such to learn new skills.

OK so i have rambled enough. i could ramble more. i hope this gets you started and if you have more specific or follow up questions, on this or organization side of things, let me know! remember these are all just guidelines and the most important thing is having a space you love, that makes you feel comfortable and that you’re proud of and happy in. comparing yourself to others isn’t always the best and you can make it a space you love no matter where you are.

#linds dispenses hack job design advice #Anonymous #dorm room #design

163 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner One Shot: You Can’t Kid a Kiddo

Intro: It’s April Fools’ Day…and Tony is out to play. Avengers, beware!

Warnings: Bad language, very mild smut...no one gets naked.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:This is written for @wkemeup ‘s 4K Writing Challenge. My prompt was dialogue- “I take zero responsibility for this…”

This takes place in the Stark Spangled Banner timeline in April 2015 just before the events of AOU. Steve and my OFC (Katie Stark- Tony’s sister) have been together for 2 years ish and are engaged at this point as well. There’s also another Easter Egg in here for me to set up another One Shot I’m working on...

You don’t have to have read SSB to understand or enjoy this but feel free to check them out if you so wish. Stark Spangled Banner, and the prequel Stark Spangled Man can both be found here on my Masterlist.

Please re-blog and send me comments/thoughts. That’s my jam!

Steve’s hands were hot on Katie’s hips, gently gripping her bare skin just above her underwear, the top she was wearing riding up slightly. Her bare thighs were straddling his as he gripped her neck, pulling her down for a searing kiss, grinding up against her, the TV programme was long forgotten.

“You know…” he said, pulling back slightly to look at her, one of his hands tangling in the hem of the plaid button down she’d stolen from him to sleep in, as usual “Captain America doesn’t approve of theft.” “Captain America is an ass hole.” she grinned back “Stevie is my favourite.”

He gave a chuckle and leaned back against the sofa cushions, looking at her for a second “How did I get so lucky?” he asked, reaching up to tuck her long hair behind her ears. She smiled at him, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“What’s brought this on?” she asked, her hands sliding up his chest, resting on his shoulders, fingers gently playing with the collar of his polo shirt.

“Nothing.” he said, “Just seeing you before, today, with that reporter, just reminded me about how fierce...” he pressed a kiss to her lips “and loyal…” another kiss “and downright sexy you are when you’re angry…”

“He was a dick.” she mumbled, against his lips, her eyes narrowing slightly as she pulled back to look at him, his fingers gently tracing the outside of her thighs “I mean, it’s not like we haven’t already launched the publicity campaign already…”

“Well it’s big news.” he smiled up at her.

“Of course it will, it’s Harlan Thrombey…” she shrugged “His books are huge!”

“Did you ever get to the bottom of why he’s reached out to SIP to run the next one when he has his own publishing company?” “Oh something to do with his Son annoying him and needing to be taught not to take things for granted.” Katie shrugged “I can ask him that in October when we meet him to go over the final edit and discuss the covers and stuff… but that’s by the by. That ass-hat reporter should have been at the press launch like everyone else, not trying to accost us when we went out for lunch. And what the fuck has whether we’ve set a wedding date got to do with it anyway? Nosey bastard.”

Steve chuckled at her rant and looked at her, his eyes shining. “We haven’t set one though.”

“Yeah well, we’ve kinda had a bit going on.” she said, “Maybe once all this business with the sceptre is sorted we can think about it.” Steve sighed “I know, it’s taking a little longer than we hoped.”

“Well it’s only the end of March.” she shrugged “I’ve always wanted a summer wedding so it’s not…”

She trailed off and Steve saw her eyes widen and her mouth dropped open as she looked at him. “Oh shit…”

“Kitten, what is it?” he frowned.

“It’s the 31st March…” she looked at him, swallowing. Steve felt the colour draining from his face "Crap." The reason for their horror was simple. Because, forget Christmas or Thanksgiving, April Fools’ Day was Tony Stark's favourite time of year, as his long suffering sister could testify. When she was a kid, Tony had done the usual stuff. Flour in her talc, washing up liquid in her shampoo, paper shapes of bugs (never spiders though, he wasn't that cruel) in lampshades so when she turned the lights on she'd think she had a huge cockroach in there, that type of stuff. But, as she matured so did the pranks. At one time whilst she had been at the tower for a meeting JARVIS sent her an alert that someone had slashed her tyres in the carpark. She had sprinted outside to see photos of Slash from Guns and Roses struck to the side of her tyres. Another year Tony had hacked her StarkPhone and Laptop and changed the language to Chinese. Of course she couldn't read fucking Chinese to change it back. When she found an agent in SHIELD who did and he reversed it for her, within 30 seconds it had flicked over to Russian. And when she fixed that it became Swedish and so on and so on... Steve had also been the butt of a few pranks since he had known Tony. In 2013 he had fallen for the old toothpaste Oreo trick when a box had arrived for him allegedly from the cookie company themselves after Steve had been papped eating a packet. That had nearly made him sick. And then last year there had been the none stop phone calls asking for Franklin. Every time it was someone different and Steve was getting more and more frustrated as to who exactly Franklin was and why people thought he was on his number. Then, as he and Katie had been on the sofa making out, he'd gotten one last call…

"Leave it..." she said, her hands in his face turning her back to look at him. He kissed her again, hands sliding up the side of her torso, grinding his crotch down onto hers making her purr with delight as her hands strayed to the buckle of his belt, soft fingers gently skimming his abs as she made to undo it, his tongue tangling ferociously with hers as he gave a soft moan of pleasure... But his phone was going again. Katie sighed as he dropped his head to her chest, mumbling a curse. "Unless that’s a Code Red, you can tell whoever it is to fuck off." she said with a frustrated growl, her head flopping back against the cushion as he reached over and answered it, still led over her. "Rogers..." he said sharply. It was another unknown number, but not an unknown voice. "Hi this is Frankin!" Tony greeted him Steve let out a growl of frustration as he realised he had been had. "Have there been..." pause as the inventor laughed "I'm sorry, have there been any calls for me?" "Tony I swear to god!" he spat through gritted teeth as the inventor cackled and hung up. "Your brother is a dick." he looked down at Katie, shaking his head. "Well yeah, I know that…" Katie looked up at her boyfriend "What did he just do?" "Those calls I’ve been getting all day. Asking for Franklin?" He looked at her and she nodded "it was him."

She paused and then let out a laugh “Ok, to be fair, that’s a pretty good one…” “I hate him.” he mumbled, dropping his head back to her chest.

She chuckled again, and ran her fingers through his hair. “Hey, Stevie…wanna get him back?" “How?” Steve queried, propping himself up on his elbows, looking at her.. “Call him...” she grinned, leaning up and nipping at his jaw line softly as he closed his eyes “Leave the phone on the table...” she bucked up under him, wriggling her hips, his trousers feeling uncomfortably tight again “and let him listen to us make out”

Steve hadn’t done that, because, well frankly the thought of anyone listening to them wasn’t a great turn on in his books so Tony had gone another year of getting away with it.

Simply put, Tony was king of the pranks, and this year he had the entire team at the tower to torment.

“We should warn the others…” Steve looked at her, and with a sigh she nodded. She untangled herself from him and straightened the legs on her denim shorts.

“JARVIS?” she asked.

“Yes Miss Stark…” “Where are the rest of the team?”

“Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the Common Room.” he spoke “Thor is in his quarters as is Mr Stark and Dr Banner is in the Lab…”

“I’ll text Nat, Clint and Banner.” she said, nodding “Can you go see Thor…he doesn’t have a phone and I’m not asking JARVIS to do it in case Tony catches on…” Steve nodded “Yeah, I’ll pop down and see him now.” Giving her a quick kiss he straightened his pants slightly and headed towards the hidden elevator, selecting the right floor. Thor and Clint shared one of the highest floors in the tower, both preferring to be higher up, closer to the roof but it was still below their’s. Exiting the elevator, he turned left and knocked on the door.

“Captain?” Thor answered and stepped back. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” “It’s not strictly pleasure I’m afraid Thor…” Steve sighed “I’m hear with a warning.” “A warning?” he frowned.

“Yeah, you got five minutes? It’s gonna take some explanation.”

***** Tony was giggling to himself as he put the final touches to the last of his pranks, before closing the door to the Lab and heading back to his floor. None of the team were up yet, it was ridiculously early, but the early bird catches the worm and all that. Fuck Killian and his second mouse bullshit. He had been toying with setting it all up the previous evening but he didn’t trust Kiddo and Spangles not to do some kind of recon mission before they went to bed.

“What have you been doing?” Pepper mumbled to him as he walked back into their dark bedroom.

“Nothing…” he said, with a grin, leaning down to give her a peck.

“Bullshit.” Pepper mumbled against his lips. “It’s April Fools Day…” “Is it?” he said, innocently and she rolled her eyes “JARVIS?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Hey buddy, I need you to set up an alert for me for today. If anyone goes into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my equipment I wanna know about it.”

“Of course Sir.”

Tony grinned as he headed into the bathroom for a shower. “Game on, Avengers...”

Prank 1.

Steve was the first victim. He and Katie were making their way, cautiously, down to the large meeting room where they were all due to congregate to look over the plans of an abandoned British prison they suspected of being a Hydra base. They made sure to check round each corner before they walked round it, checking up high, low, everywhere.

But there was no avoiding this prank.

Steve pressed his palm to the Biometric Pad on the meeting room door and the pair of them gave a loud yell and a jump as their ears were assaulted by a sudden chorus.

“Who's strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?”

“Oh for fucks sake…” Steve groaned as he pulled open the door, the song echoing through the PA system.

“Who will campaign door to door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America? From Hoboken to Spokane? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Clint and Natasha were stood, poised at the table, both wearing identical looks of astonishment on their faces. They turned to Katie and Steve as they walked into the room, the song still playing.

“We can't ignore there's a threat and a war we must win! Who'll hang a noose on the goose-stepping goons from Berlin?”

“I’m assuming this means Cap is the first of us to fall victim to Stark?” Clint asked, his lips quirking into a smile.

“Who will indeed lead the call for America? Who'll rise or fall, give his all, for America?”

“Please tell me it isn’t going to go through a full rendition…” Steve sighed, dropping into a chair.

“Who's here to prove that we can? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Silence. The 4 of them waited with bated breath, but thankfully it had stopped.

“Just the first two verses…” Katie said, sitting next to him. “Suppose we should be grateful.” “Kiddo, you’re as much of a sneak as Tony…” Clint looked at her, as Thor walked into the room. “How come you’ve never managed to get him back?”

“He’s too smart.” she sighed, “I’ve tried and tried before. It doesn’t help that he has JARVIS either, watch this…JARVIS?”

“Yes Miss Stark?”

“Has my brother got an alert going for you to warn him if we try and prank him?” “I couldn’t possibly comment Miss Stark, on whether or not your brother has an alert set up to warn him if you attempt to tamper with any of his equipment…”

Normally she would chuckle at the AIs tone but she was too frustrated with her brother and the seeming lack of loopholes in any of his instructions she could exploit. She leaned back in her chair and gave a huff “See?”

“I could just shock him with some lightning?” Thor suggested

“Think that’s a little harsh.” Steve sighed.

“See if you still think that by the end of the day when every time you open a door that song starts.” Natasha looked at him.

“What, you think…” Steve looked at her and then gave a groan. “It’s not just gonna be the one door is it?”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Of course it isn’t just one door…” _______

Prank 2.

Bruce was sincerely hoping that whatever inevitable prank Tony was going to pull on him that the Billionaire had been sensible enough not to shock him so far that the Hulk erupted. Bruce had a pretty good hold on him, so he wasn’t too worried but still, you never know.

He made it to his lab in one piece, opened the door and stopped dead.

In front of him on the floor, for about 2 metres square were cups of water. And they were positioned hat close together that there was no space for him to step over in any direction without them spilling all over the floor. Which meant he couldn’t get into the room. Had it been anyone else, they would probably have simply kicked them over, but not Bruce. He was always paranoid about the liquid seeping through the floors and down onto the machinery which looked after the Iron Legion.

So if he was going to get into the lab, he was going to have to move them one cup at a time.

“Damned you Tony!” he said with a loud, exasperated sigh “JARVIS? I need a bucket…”

_______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Good luck finding one Brucey…”

_______

Prank 3.

“I don’t think there’s much else to go on…” Steve sighed as the rest of the team finished looking over the plans “We need to get out there and do a recon really.“

“We prepping for another mission then, Cap?” Clint looked at him. Steve took a deep breath and nodded.

“I don’t think we have an alternative.”

“Ok, well, if we get everything ready we can go at first light tomorrow.” Natasha suggested “I’ll get onto the British Authorities, let them know we’re planning on coming.” “Get Hill onto it” Katie suggested “She’ll go through the UN.”

With that an alert sounded on her phone and she looked down at it. “I gotta go take a conference call but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Steve nodded to her as she stood up and left the room. She made it to her office, safely and swung the door open, pausing just to make sure nothing fell from the door frame. She darted through, took a look round and everything seemed to be in order.

Suspecting Tony of most likely sabotaging her computer or screen, she sat down on her chair and a loud horn sounded causing her to scream and involuntarily he entire body jumped, and her chair toppled backwards. She went with it, arms and legs flailing and she hit the floor with a crash.

After taking a moment to sort herself out she stood up, and looked at the bottom of her chair. There was an Airhorn strapped to the main leg which mean as soon as she had sat down, it would push the handle causing it to sound.

“I know you’re watching this you fucker!” she yelled, spinning round to the CCTV camera and flicking it off “I hate you!”

_____ Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Nice fall Kiddo…”

_______

Prank 4.

Given that there was nothing else to do, Natasha decided to head to the gym, as she did every Tuesday morning, to practice Pilates. It was a routine she tried not to break as it helped her keep supple and relax. Katie sometimes joined her, and surprisingly so did Steve. He said it helped keep his mind clear.

She knew that the routine made her an easy target for one of Stark’s pranks, but she was damned if he was going to catch her out. She was one of the world’s best spies, no way was he going to get her with some stupid, childish trick.

She entered the room and glanced up and around, checking the corners, you name it. Satisfied that no one was going to jump out at her, and even if they did, she’d floor them- more fool you, Stark, she leaned up against the bench and stretched her legs out.

“Who's strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?”

She spun to see Steve shaking his head as he made his way into the room in his gym gear

“You joining me or hitting the bag?” she asked as they both tried to ignore the song as it continued ringing from the speakers.

“Joining you if that’s ok?” he said, “I went for a run this morning so…” “Sure.” she nodded, and as the song finally stopped they made their way to the store cupboards, picking out their mats. Natasha picked her favoured one, and lay it down on the floor.

As soon as she stepped on it there was a loud popping noise, like a gun going off, and she jumped backwards, dropping to the floor by instinct.

“Nat…” Steve said, a smile tugging at his lips “It’s ok, it’s not a gun.” Angrily she stood up, stalked over to the mat and pulled it up off the floor. She examined it a little before she gave a snort.

“Bastard!” she exclaimed, slipping her hand into a small, almost invisible hole on the underside. She pulled out a tiny little firecracker, the type that kids used to throw on the floor in front of someone to make a loud bag. “He’s filled my mat with these!”

______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Even Super Spies get fooled, Romanoff…”

_______

Prank 5 and 6.

Later that day the team met in the common room for lunch. Steve already had a headache from that damned song following him every time he opened a door, Katie was sporting quite a sore elbow after falling harshly on the floor, Bruce was pissed as it had taken him a good hour to get rid of the cups of water, and Natasha was seething at the fact she’d been caught out too.

“I don’t know how you’ve put up with it for your entire life.” Clint said to Katie as he opened the fridge, pulling out a can of his favoured Dr Pepper. He grabbed a glass and a few ice cubes, the way he always like his soda and walked over to where they were all sat on the sofas with various lunch items on the coffee table. He poured the soda into the glass and set it on the table.

“Yeah well, you better be careful.” Katie said “You too Thor, there’s no way he hasn’t set one up for you both.” “I am mighty Little Stark.” Thor grinned, nursing a plate of his favoured chocolate and sugar covered strawberries he had snaffled from a tray in the fridge “it will take more than…” “SHIT!” Clint exclaimed, and with a loud yell they all jumped back as the soda in his glass was exploding over the top with such veracity it was showering them all in the sticky drink. As Steve and Natasha headed to grab some paper towels, Katie marched over to the freezer and yanked out the ice dispenser tray.

“He’s put fucking Mentos in the ice cubes!” she said with a shake of her head. “Jesus Christ…” “You gotta hand it to him.” Bruce sighed, wiping his glasses off on his shirt

“I’d like to hand it to him.” she mumbled, “with my fist closed.” Thor gave a chuckle and popped a strawberry in his mouth, before he gave a grimace, gagged and spat it back out onto the plate.

“That’s…” he stood up, nearly pushing Steve over in his attempt to get to the sink.

Katie watched him as he grabbed a glass of water and filled it from the tap.

“What...” Natasha looked at Bruce who was examining a piece of the fruit, holding it in front of his nose.

“Salt…” Thor mumbled as he rinsed his mouth out “It isn’t sugar, its salt. He put salt on my Chocolate Sugar Fruit!”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Ice Ice baby... not so mighty after all Thunder God.”

_______

*******

“We have to get him back…” Natasha grumbled as they all sat in Katie and Steve’s apartment, having retreated to the relative safety as their living quarters were the one place there was no CCTV, and Katie had the authority to banish JARVIS from earwigging. (Tony had learnt that lesson one day after hearing something he really didn’t want to hear…)

“Believe me I’ve tried.” Katie sighed “And you heard J before, anyone tampers with his equipment and…” She stopped dead. That was it. That was the loophole. With a smirk she looked round the assembled faces. Steve arched an eyebrow at her, he knew that look very well.

“What you thinking?” he asked and she grinned at them all.

“Ok, listen up.” she said, leaning forward. “I have an idea...”

They listened attentively, Clint and Natasha sharing a grin as she outlined her plan whilst Thor slapped his thigh with glee. Steve leaned back in his chair and looked at Banner who was also smiling ear to ear.

“That might just work.” The Doctor said “It’s a pretty good loophole, and we have the stuff in the lab so…” “I’ll need a distraction.” Katie said, “something that’s gonna draw Tony out of his office for long enough for me to do it but…” “That’s easy.” Thor said, “I’m sure I can cause a good deal of noise in the Training Facility, break a few things with my hammer…”

“Fry something.” Steve said, looking round “If you do that then JARVIS won’t be able to fix it remotely, Tony’s gonna have to get his hands dirty.”

“You all know what you’re doing?” Katie grinned as everyone nodded. “Ok, Avengers, let’s do this…“

Operation Payback.

Tony heard the bang seconds before JARVIS spoke

“Mr Stark…”

“What the hell was that?”

“There’s been an incident in the Training Suite.”

“Course there has…” Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation at how stupid they thought he was. He wasn’t falling for a distraction like that. “Where is everyone?” “Miss Stark, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the shooting range.” Jarvis informed them. Doctor Banner was in his lab, although it appears he is now making his way down to the Training Facility to find out what’s going on. Captain Rogers is already there as is Thor.”

“What’s the incident?”

“It appears Thor has struck the speakers and the access pad with a bolt of lightning.” JARVIS replied “I’m currently assessing the damage but as a result he is locked in. And he isn’t happy.” Tony gave an exasperated groan and pushed his chair from his desk. “Suppose I best go see if I can help…remember what I said, anyone comes in here and tampers with my equipment…” “Of course, Sir…”

When Tony arrived Thor was kicking the door to the training facility, waving his hammer irately.

“Thor!” Steve was stood by the glass, attempting to calm him down. “Don’t buddy, we’ll get you out of there…” “I can get myself out…” Thor blazed, raising his hand and Tony blanched at the fact Thor was threatening to send his hammer straight through the wall. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the walls and glass to get damaged but they’d only just had it replaced after Steve and Thor had been practicing using Steve’s shield and Mjolnir to cause an outwards blasting shockwave.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, and Steve spun to him shooting him a glare.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on…” Thor roared “That infernal song…”

His hammer crackled ominously again and Tony looked back to Steve.

“He was fed up of hearing Star Spangled Man With A Plan ringing out every goddamned time I opened a door.” Steve folded his arms “So he lost his temper. And I can’t say I blame him.” “We’ve talked about this.” Tony looked at Thor “You need to use your words buddy…” “Words, I’ll give you more than words, Stark!” Thor roared “Now get me out of here!”

“JARVIS?” Tony asked, looking at the pad on the door. “Damage report?”

“The Circuit is completely fried Sir.” JARVIS said “I cannot access or override, you will need to do it manually.”

“Great…” Tony mumbled “Let me just go get my tools from the lab.” Mumbling to himself he set off down the corridor and once he was gone, Thor grinned and tossed his hammer in the air as he gave Steve and Banner the thumbs up before he caught it expertly again in his right hand.

“Good job!” Steve nodded with a smile as he pulled his phone out and dialled Katie quickly. “You’re up.”

****

It took Tony roughly 30 minutes to replace the wires and unlock the door. Thor stormed out, pushed him harshly in the chest before he left down the corridor.

“Guess they don’t have April Fools’ day on Asgard.” Tony mumbled, rubbing at the front of his shirt.

“To be honest Tony, it’s pretty annoying.” Bruce sighed “Can you at least turn it off now, I mean its almost 2 in the afternoon.” “Yeah I suppose…” Tony sighed, before he grinned “it was a pretty good one though, right.” “Hilarious.” Steve deadpanned, his hands falling to his belt buckle. Tony flashed him a grin and a shrug before he gathered up his tools and made his way back down the corridor.

��JAR?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Turn off Prank Spangles will you, before anyone else breaks more of my tower.”

“Right away Sir.” “And I’m assuming from the lack of contact no one’s been in my office tampering with my equipment?” “That’s correct sir.” “Today has been a good day.” Tony grinned to himself.

Once he was back in his office he sat down at his chair, and went through his emails quickly. He absentmindedly scratched at his beard, which felt a little dry to be honest. But he hadn’t oiled it since that morning. Reaching into his drawer he grabbed the small bottle, tipped a good amount onto his hand and spread it across the expertly groomed whiskers before he continued with his work. It took him a few hours but he cleared his inbox and then decided it was time to face the music. Heading down to the common room he found the rest of the team lounging in front of the TV. They were watching Kitchen Nightmares.

“S’up Kids?” he asked and none of them looked at him. “Ok, alright, I know…sorry if I pranked you but if I buy takeout will that make you forgive me?”

No answer.

“Oh come on!” Tony said, crossing the room, sinking into a spare arm chair. “I’ll get Thai…"

The team exchanged glances before Bruce gave a sigh. He was always the one to cave first, the mild mannered Scientist found it hard to stay outwardly angry, which was ironic when anyone thought about it.

“To be fair, that trick with the water was pretty clever.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, and I suppose the salt strawberries were a little amusing.” Thor said, looking at Katie.

She shrugged, her feet resting in Steve’s lap as he was gently running his fingers up and down her calf.

“Oh come on Kiddo…” Tony sighed, flopping onto an arm chair.

“Payback’s a bitch…and so are you.” she said simply, still not looking at him.

“You’ve never managed to get me back yet.” Tony snorted.

At that point he noticed that Natasha and Clint exchanging smirks.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Clint said, shaking his head.

“I like your beard” Thor said, grinning “I have always admired how you keep it so neat and groomed. Maybe I should trim mine the same way.” Tony frowned. “Oh is this the part where you pin me down and shave it?” he rolled his eyes “You know I can call my suit to me in like 5 seconds flat.” “We know.” Steve said simply, looking at him. Tony’s frown deepened. The way the Captain’s blue eyes were shining with mirth made him uncomfortable.

He looked round as 6 pairs of eyes were all completely focussed on him now before Katie cracked up laughing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…I can’t hold…” her laughter grew more and more as she threw her head back against the arm of the sofa “You look ridiculous…” Tony frowned and without a word stood up from the chair and made his way to the bar to glance in the mirrored surface between the shelves.

Oh. Holy. Jesus.

His goatee. His beautiful goatee...was blonde.

He spun round and the rest of the guys in the room cracked up laughing. Steve had his head thrown back, right hand clutching at his chest as Katie wiped tears from her face whilst Natasha doubled over on her seat. Besides her Clint slapped his thigh, his chuckles loud.

“What…how…” Tony spluttered, looking again at his reflection, before he glared back at the group.

“Slipped a little peroxide in your beard oil…” Katie managed to stutter between laughs, Thor’s loud rumbles continued, punctuated every now and then by a snort from Banner.

“JARVIS!” Tony roared “I told you to tell me if anyone went into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my stuff…” "I take zero responsibility for this...sir” The AI responded “And I believe your instruction was to alert you if anyone entered your office or the garage or anywhere in the tower and messed with your equipment. Technically Miss Stark didn't touch your equipment, only your Male grooming product. I believe they exploited a loophole.” That made the group laugh even harder as Tony went bright red, spluttering obscenities at JARVIS. Eventually he calmed down and sighed, before he glanced at his sister.

“You know I’m almost proud…” he said, shaking his head. “Almost…”

Katie gave him a wink in response. “You know what they say…you can’t kid a kidder, or in this case Kiddo…”

Tony gave a groan which turned into a resigned chuckle. He could always dye it back...

Yes, April Fools’ day was still Tony Stark’s favourite time of year.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes

89 notes · View notes

wongiemei · 5 years

Text

Roommate!Jeno

a/n: maybe i should just turn this blog into an nct dream one

okay

letsgetit!

first of all,

story time!

your uni is fucking expensive and it’s more expensive if you live in the grounds

so you being the wise human,

you went to get an apartment near the campus

it was great and all since roommate!jaemin was paying for his stuff

you were both living respectively until he had to leave

the dumbass didnt even bother to tell you

one morning you just woke up and found his note

‘hey bitch! figured you were too much of a rock to wake up but i moved out! the family wants me to go back home and tend the restaurant’

the whole day yesterday, you were working

bc,,, yknow

broke college life

and you just walked in half asleep towards your room and fell asleep

so you didnt really see or notice

but were you freaking out bc your roommate suddenly moved out?

ofc you were freaking out

not only was your roommate gone,

how were you going to find a new one?!

jaemin expected your phone call that afternoon and he endured through all your screaming

‘babe, i’m just going to be gone for a year-or two’

‘oR tWO?!’

‘hun, my dad’s injured and his back can only let him do so much. ma’s working too much and i dont have any siblings to help. i figured i could just hold off college until my parents are ready’

ugh, jaemin is such a family boy

‘but jaems! you couldnt have at least told me that yOu wERe mOvING OuT?! and! rent is due soon! i can’t pay for that myself!’

jaemin couldve easily told you to warn yoy

but he didn’t want to tell you bc he couldnt handle you sad and didnt want to upset you

however, now jaemin really understands how shitty that move was

‘tell you what. i’ll pay for this month and make a few phone calls and i’ll get you set up with a new roommate, deal?’

knowing how much of a social butterfly he was, you agreed

ofc you trusted jaemin but part of you feared that he might pair you up with a freak

but he’s not that mean, is he?

you can definitely see renjun doing that but not jaemin

so there you are,,

sitting on your couch alone

without jaemin, your apartment felt really empty

its been a few days since he moved and you were miserable

jaemin hasn’t even texted you about that potential roommate

just as you were about to call him,,

your doorbell rang

you froze and you looked at the time

it was nearing 11 at night and you don’t remember ordering delivery

see,,

if jaemin was here,

he would answer it for you since you would be too scared to do it

but you mustered up your courage and peeped through the peep hole

the man was dressed in all black with a black mask and a black cap with his hood over it with a black hoodie and black pants

ngl, you were terrified and trembling

he rang it again and you jumped

typing out a quick text to jaemin saying ‘hey bub, if i don’t text you in an hour, that means ive been kidnapped so call the police’

you grabbed a pan from the cupboard and gulped before you opened the door

thinking he would just walk forward and grab you, you closed your eyes and raised your pan over your head and swung

a shriek from in front of you made your eyes snap open and found the guy on the floor with a fetal position

you both just froze for like a phat minute

snapping back to reality, you held the pan in front of you

‘if youre going to kidnap me, i got a pan and im not afraid to hit you with it!’

you tried to sound intimidating but your voice was shaking so much

the guy stood up and he took off his hat and the mask to reveal a blonde haired kid

okay, so you were sHOokETh

damn! this boy is fine!

he gave you a shaky smile and held out his hand

‘hi! i’m lee jeno! you must be y/n? jaemin told me you had an opening for a roommate?’

now you noticed the two duffle bags at the side

the embaressment and the shame settled in slowly and you found yourself burning up

nodding, you motioned him to come in

jeno awkwardly walked in and was amazed at how big the layout was with the low rent

‘yea, its kinda hard to believe that we only pay that much. at first i thought there was a ghost in here and that’s why its so cheap’

you tried to make small conversation but laughed weirdly at jeno’s slightly terrified face

‘no! there really is not ghost here! ive lived here for a year and there hasnt been anything so please dont understand! please be my roommate!’

you begged and jeno thought you were weird

but jaemin was right, you were weirdly adorable in a way

so that’s how you and jeno became apartment buddies!

now onto the good stuff!

so, jeno is a vv clean guy

like he’s the type to just pick up a wrapper in the street and throw it in the garbage

so naturally, he likes to keep the apartment as tidy and neat as possible

but you being a mess you are,

you usually leave a lot of things everywhere

lets just say you have a short memory

‘oh? how did that get there?’

eventually, jeno gets sick of it and he confronts you with it

ofc you understand and you actually try to be better

since jeno is literally the most perfect roommate

maybe even better than jaemin

(but don’t tell him that)

jeno is the type to re-stock the pantry with snacks and the fridge with ice cream

since youre both college students, ramen is practically always available in the house 24/7

he also makes the coffee every morning since he works early and wakes up first

even though he doesn’t like the drink and prefers milk, he still notices how you survive off of coffee

babie likes to pick you up some iced americano while he gets a frappe

you on the other hand,,

you’re very surprised

when you got to bed after showing jeno around,

you messaged jaemin

ofc he was worried af and was blowing up your phone

‘WHAT?!’

‘bitch answer the damn phone!’

‘whatthe fuck is happening?!’

‘i need to know if you’re still alive!’

‘oh fuck i shouldnt have moved out’

smiling softly at how worried he was, you responded to him

‘you hoe, it hasnt been an hour yet so chillax. i’m alive, unfortunately, and i just met my new roommate. again, thanks for the heads-up. youre so bad at those. i literally thought he was a burgular or a kidnapper. but he seems chill and emo. just my type.’

but jeno is F A R from C H I L L

oh my goodness,,

hes a crackhead

theres this sound he makes when he’s confused and you couldnt figure out if its cute or weird or if he’s doing this on purpose or thats just how he is

you and him basically communicate with memes

sometimes, at the weird hours at night, he sends you a dumbass meme

you cant help but snort

also, you promised to take jaemin out to dinner to repay him for the great roommate

‘hes literally one of the best people youll ever meet. it just so happen he needed a place to sleep. now you owe me’

hes a science major while you were a computer major

he basically brings home weird stuff to analyze and it just hella stinks

but hes considerate enough to actually put it outside

whenever he’s focused, he talks to himself or the thing he’s analyzing

‘okay mr. fishy. your scales are really big and its bigger than average’

its so cute

oof also!

jeno doesnt have a job yet he always makes rent on time with extra money to spare

he even sometimes buys you stuff saying, ‘they reminded me of you’

for your birthday, he bought you a pearl necklace that mustve costed thousands

at first, you thought he was a chaebol or smth

which you wouldve been vv jealous of bc youre a struggling college student who works at the coffee shop

but, you were answered when you caught him walking in half-dazed and half-asleep with cuts all over his face

it was like 2 in the morning and you were pulling an all-nighter for some project and wanted to get a glass of water

but here he is, hood up, lip busted, black eye, cheek cut

you shrieked and ushered him to sit on the dining chair

thinking he got mugged or something, you start drilling him questions

‘hun, if you were beat up, we need to call the police! this is illegal!’

but jeno chuckles and brushes the stray hairs out of your face as you tend to his lip

‘pls dont. if you do, ill be broke and i wont have money to pay rent then i cant be your roommate anymore’

cue confused y/n

‘wUT?’

‘if i dont make money, youll kick me out and youll have to find another roommate. i dont want you to go through that hassle again’

ofc you were flattered that even during this situation, hes still thinking about you

‘how is this making money?!’

‘i cant believe youre oblivious to so many things. i thought for sure youve caught on.’

more confusion

‘eXCUse mE, lEE JEno? since when have you started coming home with all these things in your face?’

you were worried that this wasnt the first time this happened

but if you think hard about it, thats why he always wears his mouth masks and he always has his blonde fringe down and sometimes wears sunglasses even though its cloudy outside

‘ohmygod lee jeno are you in a gang?!’

jeno was shocked that you came to that conclusion but laughed at how adorable you were rn

with your wide eyes and mouth open

‘nah, bro. i box. its the only way i can make easy money.’

‘but,,, why did you hide this from me? if you needed money i couldve helped you’

he looked at you skeptically

‘sis, you could barely afford that muffin the other day’

lee jeno now looked different from the jeno you met the first day

What you thought to be an innocent little squish was a fighter at night

‘yah, can-um-you need to take this off’

you mumbled while tugging on his sweatshirt

he nodded and slipped it off

he explained why he came late when he first moved

‘i had a late night match and yknow,, school and all, i barely had enough time to come'

as you dab the wound, you try to make small talk to distract yourself

‘so,, youve been boxing this whole time?’

you asked, trying not to get distracted to the way his tight shirt clung to him, showing his defined body

there were bruises up and down his arms and his knuckles were busted

‘yea. i have been since senior high. gotta make money, yknow?’

‘but jen, you can work in coffee shops or at local bookstores. its not worth seeing you busted up like this’

your lips trembled at the thought of him being beaten up too hard to the point he gets into a coma

jenos eyes widened at your wobbling lips and he softly cupped your face

‘hey, im okay and ill be fine. you dont have to worry about me. i usually win, anyways’

his confidence made you chuckle

‘i trust you, lee jeno. just make sure to make it home to me every night.’

‘i know you do and i will. always.”

ever since then,

youve become his little caretaker

youve informed jaemin of what hes been doing and he knew but didnt want you to judge him immediately

smh, jaemin really sucks at informing people

but jeno tries to help you keep up

he even sends you texts that hes fighting that night and your little ‘fighting!’ always makes him smile

his manager and friend, chenle, noticed that hes starting to smile more

chenle likes boxing and wants to be a part of it but doesnt want to be hurt

so,, what better to be the manager of his friend

‘yah, hyung. what’s got you giggly today?’

jeno pointed to the screen and giggled at the little good luck gif you sent

his eyes turned to crescents and chenle smirked

‘wah, you like her, don’t you?’

at the mention of ‘like’, his smile dropped and he shook his head

‘no. of course not. shes just a friend.’

chenle being chenle,,

he continues to prod

‘okay. so every night, you make it your priority to make sure you’re home by 2 in the morning for your friend’

smh, chenle youre so annoying

but hes so right

ever since you caught him,

hes been making sure he gets home at the same time

he sends you a text that hes on his way and you set your ringtone at a very high volume so you wake up and take care of him

during fights, he makes it his sole mission to make out of this alive and a winner for you

but that never crossed his mind as his feelings for you

he just thought of it as making you not worry for him

but then, he starts to think about your stupid little habits

the way you make this face whenever you dont understand

or when you still leave little post-it notes everywhere with ideas you come up with

he noticed it all and he loves them

‘hOLy ShIT!’

that night was when he realized his feelings for you and he was so dedicated on finishing it that he quickly won and he dashed home with his money

bursting through the door, you looked at him with wide and startled eyes

‘what’s wrong?’

you came running but he scooped you up to a hug

ok you were confused but relieved that he was home and alright

jeno looked at your face and wanted to confess but chickened out at the sight of you

you were so good to him and honestly, he doesnt deserve you

(his thoughts, not mine)

‘i-i’

he stuttered and you motioned him to continue

‘i won!’

he shouted and you congratulated him, even though he literally won all the time

guiding him to the chair, you began to dab his cuts

(dab that bitch)

‘im starting to think that your opponents either really suck or youre like the god of boxing’

he didnt know how to take that but blushed red at the mention of him being a ‘god of boxing’

‘nah, im just good’

you eyed him and smiled

he continued to watch you heal him and inspected your face

heavy eyebags and sunken cheeks, it mustve been a long night

he felt a pang in his chest thinking that you push your stuff away just to help him

‘you dont have to keep doing this for me, yknow’

you halt and look at him seriously

‘i know i dont. but i cant sleep at night thinking youre in pain and alone when i can be there for you’

even though he just realized it, jeno was pretty sure he fell in love with you a long time ago

but if it was possible, he fell in love with you even more

‘thank you’

his soft voice filled the silence and you vowed that you will always be there for him whenever he needs help

a few days later, jeno hasnt been to a fight

sure you were worried at what was going on in his head but partly relieved that you dont have to see him so battered anymore

but this was so un-jeno

just as you were about to talk to him about it, he announces he got a job at the bookstore down the street

‘huh? i thought you didnt want to work’

you question while he looked sheepish

‘i realized that i was starting to become a burden since you take care of me every time. so i thought i should quit and get a regular job. besides, it doesnt hurt as much’

he laughed but you didnt react

‘lee jeno, you gave up boxing and the money,,, for me?’

he nervously looked up at you and you noticed the redness of his cheeks

‘i-well-if you put it that way’

‘listen to me, im flattered and i truly love that you dont want to get beaten up anymore. but i dont want you to quit something you like because of me'

‘but you always take care of me and push your priorities away to clean me up. i dont do anything in return and i dont think its fair!’

he argued and a soft smile crept up your face

‘yah, lee jeno'

your voice became a whisper

‘it doesnt matter to me if you dont do anything in return bc i dont see this as a favor. you are mine to take care of and i will do anything for you, you understand that?’

he looked at you in shock after hearing your response

he also turned red at the mention of him being yours

‘so-but-i dont think-'

he stutters but you place your hands on his arms making him stop

‘all i ask is you to come back home, to come back to me'

by now, yall were blushing

even though it might not sound like it,

but yall just indirectly confessed to each other

yall stared at the ground and jeno looks up, biting his lip

‘hey, y/n, can i make it up to you with some coffee?’

your head darted up and looked at him with wide eyes

‘like-like a date?’

it came out suddenly and you stepped back in surprise, cursing yourself

but jeno chuckled, eyes scrunching cutely

‘it'll be one of many'

lmao i didnt really like this but i made it at 2 in the morning and i kinda like boxer!jeno

#lee jeno #jeno #jeno imagines #lee jeno imagines #boxer!jeno #nct dream jeno #nct dream jeno imagines #lee jeno scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #boxer!jeno imagines #roommate!nct dream #roommate!jeno #lee jeno fluff #jeno fluff #nct dream fluff

234 notes · View notes

smutav · 4 years

Text

So i posted the pictures I had for my xray and comic in this post here and I said id wait a year but I’ve decided I need to lay this project to rest and move on to what comes next. Its under the cut because its mad king heavy

the old man part was fully scripted out so I’m going to throw the script in here first then it’ll be just notes for the general plotline

(M) Old Man = O1 / (J) Old Man = O2 / Xray = X / Vav = V

we come in on Xray and Vav coming onto the scene but we start lookin at the old men

O2: "Uh Oh, the calvaries here" O1: "issit the popo? tell them they cant make me go back... to that horrible home... fulla old people..." O2: "No.. its those spandex kids again" O1: "Oh, the blue one confused me... so blue jus like those dirty cops" O2: "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE" [O2 throws something that lands nowhere near xray and vav] V : "Look you have to stop causing a ruckus!" O1: "ah ah ah prettyboy we got da bomb" O2: "Thats right if you get in our way it'll be a real stinker!" O1: "Uh Ohhhh"

X : "you have got to be kidding me" O1: "I'm too old for kidding, im old-ding over here" V : "What are you doing with a bomb!?" O2: "We've got demands!" O1: "Oh yeah lots of demands!" O2: "We want.... Pudding!" O1: "Oh yeah and none of that rice shit in there" O2: "get that rice out of our pudding no chunks!" O1: "itsa chokin hazard, I almost died when they had that at the home" O2: "thats why we left they was tryna kill us" O1: "But you only show up to stop two guys havin fun" O2: "Ya punks!" [Vav has snuck over to the obviously hidden 'stink bomb' and gags when he sees whats under the cover]

O2: "Ey!" [he smacks Vav with a cane] "gettaway from there" O1: "These two have no manners" O2: "they jus go touchin stuff that doesnt belong to them!" O1: "Well two can play at that game" [he moves towards Xray pointing at his glasses] "I want those" X : "How about I give you this instead" [he shoots a lazer at the old guy but it bounces off his walker] O1: "uh oh you shouldn't have done that" X : "oh yeah what if i do it again" [it really has the same result smart guy]

[Vav at the same time is dealing with.. a really slow old guy. and he dodges a punch an the old guy just keeps goin down and hits the ground] O2: "Ah! I'm hit thats it for me! [he tries to get up but just knocks himself over again] it's over for me I'm deadd. You killed me ya bastard" V : "I really didn--" O2: "this blood is on your handssss ohhh im goinnnn" [Vav backs off while the old man keeps slowly 'dying' to help out with Xray who's wrestling for his glasses from O1]

X : "Youre smudging up my glasses!" O1: "oh i'll do more than that" [he moves to take a lick at them] X : "no you dont!" [He punches the old man square in the jaw] O1: [catches himself on the walker] "you want a boxing match, i used ta have the belt ya know" [he lands a punch on xray who doesnt even flinch]

V : [Vav comes up from behind and pulls the old man away] O1: "No he's got me!" [he flails a bit but ineffectively to get out] "this is just like the 40s you cant stop all this" V : "We're sending you both back to the old folks home just stay there this time!" O1: "You'll never keep us caged! We'll always be ba-- Oh no is this a heart attack? Ma is that you in the light I'm-- I'm comin... comin to kick your dead ass" [and he's dead]

[Xray and Vav dump the old guys on an elderly bus they're used to dealing with these guys 'dying' and approach the stink bomb which is the stink jug but theres wires and stuff attached to supposedly detonate it] X: "Well I guess we'll have to deal with this" [he kicks the 'stink bomb' and Vav goes green] V: "I guess it'd be best to get it to Hilda she'll know how to get rid of it" X: "right lets go" [he starts walking leaving Vav to carry the barrel, poor vav]

I hope the notes after this make sense plot wise a lot of it was going to be explored deeper as we get drawing XDD ((also you get all my note writing jokes that i make to myself))

V = xray and vav / K = mad king / R = rimmy tim / M = mogar

(V) - I need,, some basic everyday hero biz to start the story with - tIME TO THROW THE OLD MEN IN THERE (K) - He decides to try out his powers a lil test run ((around Hilda's lab)) - Xray and Vav crash the party ofc - He gets by them EASY slow mo can't do much against teleporting - He didn't have much of a goal for it but, now he knows he has the upper hand on Xray and Vav - He leaves victorious (V) - He gets the business end of a run in with ender ryan - What was that?? he can teleport?? - Well we have to figure something out! (R) - Rimmy Tim runs into Mad King - Which is wild! thought he was dead! - but he does have some weird ass shit going on (K) - Wow running into Rimmy Tim isnt that neat? - He pays no mind to the Battle Buddy (R) - Rimmy Tim is crashing at Jake's place ((to be relevant)) - He also meets Xray and Vav but nobody knows what his full deal is ((and theyre distracted from having they ass kicked))

(V) - Vav is the plan guy - They get intel that he has a weird power source - it gave him the powers so if they can figure it out maybe they can take them away! - We'll need to be stealthy boys... - MOGAR! - ask mogar for help, he distract while they sneak in and nab the gem (M) - The plan involves Mogar fighting Mad King up front - Mogar runs into Rimmy Tim and is suspicious of him (K) - Ofc he knew Xray and Vav would make a plan - Mogar comes to fight him aw they just decided to send a fwiend - Mad King is busy beating Mogar and doesn't notice that they got the gem ((Uh Oh! Plothole!)) (M) - They dont see him at the meeting place (K) - He Notices when he decides to experiment with it and tries out a lesser power source - Resulting in Zombie Mogar

(V) - They HAVE to find Mogar - poking around the outside for a sign of him they find his sword in the dumpster - thats,,, not good - its really heavy but if vav straps it to his back he can handle it - they wind up splitting up for any sign of Mogar (K) - Well if you're going to be rude about it - [teleports in the streets] - Have it your way do what you want - [and he leaves Mogar there] - when he teleports back Rimmy Tim is there and he quips ab how convenient tping is (R) - MK has him get rid of the new power source obviously a failure (V) - It gets dark but vav hears a noise in the alley - He finds Mogar! But he's eating something - Mogar growls and starts running at him - *british screaming* - As he BOOKS IT around a corner Xray runs into him and Vav just grabs his arm - NO TIME TO EXPLAIN - so what the plans just fucking run - oh wait thats Jake's van - *climbs in* wEHAVE TO GO HIT THE GAS - bro its a red light - iTS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT THERES NO TRAFFIC JUST - Mogar jumps on the vAAAAAAAA - Thats enough to convince Jake she slams on the gas - " you guys are paying for any tickets i get"

((for context, Jake is my oc she has an ask blog that I was planning to use to be like in between she and rimmy tim are hanging out and you might find out things from interacting w her. But for character knowledge she’s an appliance installer that works with The Monarchy’s Servants. Which that is the company that installs the stuff that comes out of Monarch Labs. there was also a whole bit where she and rimmy tim would be hanging out and he’d be joking like oh do you ever go in like “ah m’lord!! is this installation to your liking thank you m’lord!!” and she’d goof back if he ever had a house for her to install shit in she’d do it just for him.

and for how Jake and Rimmy tim met it was at 3am dennys a few years ago and they been buds ever since))

(R) - Jake's checking on her van later and Rimmy Tim comes out to give a hand - and he asks what happened and she's shaking a lil - she just leaves it as hero biz as usual she thinks (V) - bloody hell we have to help mogar! - yeah what did Mad King do to him! - they gotta bait and catch him (R) - Jake gets a call from xray and vav asking for help getting mogar to a lab - Rimmy Tim tags along and gets to see Mogar (M) - Xray and Vav catch mogar and have him leashed in the lab - But?? Is he dangerous?? Can he contaminate others??

(R) - This is wrong - RYAN is wrong - Rimmy Tim,, Has to do something - discussion doesnt work, Ryan's just a wall discussion wise - theres no talking him out of anything he's too absorbed (V) - Mogar has good moments - reference the rotten flesh test w vav (K) - Rimmy Tim is getting increasingly worried ab him - Rimmy Tim mentions Mogar - Well it wasn't on PURPOSE - but yeah i did that - No, I don't particularly know how to reverse it (R) - Rimmy Tim tries talking hey what if we just did this partner like - Nothing can beat the battle buddies then this can all be done right? - Mad King brushes him off and tells him to stay out of his business - Ryan gets caught in the rain - He claws Rimmy's face oh no! his money maker! - Rimmy Tim decides enough is enough and leaves to help Xray and Vav fix this,,, fix him,,, (V) - They hear Mad King in the rain - hhhhh i dont want to deal with more monsterrrrssss - Rimmy Tim joins the team! - he explains his history with Mad King - and how he's worried - wORRIED LOOK WHAT HE'S DONE TO MOGAR - He digs out the lesser power source that was used on Mogar - THIS made THAT *points at Mogar* (K) - Mad King is bandaged and goes to sleep off the pain and *emotions* (gross) of the evening - as he drifts off instead of dreaming he finds himself seeing through Jeremy's damaged eye - He just sees xray and vav but he cant hear a word - needless to say he feel betrayed

(Finale leadup)

- they need a plan to catch MK - Xray and Vav decide to drill RT ab possible weaknesses - he doesnt have much to contribute though they havent worked together in years and he didnt have all this magic junk going on. - and all RT's seen of the magic junk is teleporting - Well have you seen his hideout? can you explain like layout or whats going on there - oh fuck yeah i guess that is intel lemme sketch it out

- Hilda is playing around with whats the difference between the gem they stole from MK and the one that RT says changed Mogar - Mayhaps after some experimentation gone wrong she figures they cant use the thing against him but need a device that'll remove that specific energy - so you know a SUCKING machine - While she's working so closely with this she starts having enderhilda dreams but like when she's awake shes like yeah thats neat but you aint caught my interest you dumb gem

- Wait RT if you and MK used to be in cahoots do you have any powers that can beat him? - I got guns we were guns for hire you know battle buddies - wot MK doesnt use guns he plays mind games - well yeah NOW he does he uh-- didnt have it all together after our last mission

(flashback)

- Battle buddies are cleaning up after a mission - they're both pretty angry like we wound up being the bad guys AGAIN how does this keep happening - RT agrees he's not a fan of dirty cash - MK comes to the conclusion if i controlled these sheeple nobody would be calling my shots and makin me do the wrong thing - come on ryan ya cant control people thats wrong - whats a little more blood on my hands if it means making things better on the whole - and MK winds up leaving the battle buddies :C

(Finale)

- Hilda comes in like hey i got your guys's sucking machine go suck off mad king or whatever - and vavs like Alright! lets make a plan lads! - then we go to MK - he can see them coming, he's gotten practice watching through RT's eyes - he gets the machine from them as theyre barely through the door - "well I was curious what this would do but what does it matter anyways" - and he's got like some full ender shadow clones to help with the fight and they all pair off ((not like an army literally just enough to pair off MK dont need an army to beat these guys)) - the real MK personally faces off RT though :) - RT "why do i get the real ryan why couldnt you face off with like vav or something" - MK "im curious if you could shoot me 'buddy'" - RT "well I doubt i'll do something but i do owe you one ;)" and he do shoot him but yeah the bullets are stopped and do nothing - MK "I do hope you brought something else if youre turning against the MAD KING you have best be prepared" - RT "what can i say" [drops gun] "I stick to my guns" [throw punch]

- but yeah after the fighting and witty dialogue clears it looks like MK do have the upper hand - RT was left bleeding out ((stabbed through with pointy fingers oooo MK got his blood literally on his hands)) - While MK is monologuing RT sneaks into the bathroom which MK pauses mid monologue when he sees a flash of RT's bloody hand reaching for the showerhead - cant believe that fuck - and RT comes out and hoses him down ((yes it reaches that far LOOK its got a long hose)) - then MK's on the ground fucking sizzling - vav's like oh right! and jumps up to get the sucking machine and they use it on MK

(epilogue)

- Jake drops RT off where they got MK locked up and shes like "do what u gotta do man" and RT's like "thanks for understanding bud" - and he gets in MK shifts to look at him - RT starts to apologize for ruining his plan but gets interrupted as MK says "you were right" - which is a SHOCKING thing to hear from that guy - and mad king is like "thank you" - and we end on "anytime buddy."

so that was my plot I havent been kidding when I said it was a long comic plan. Its been heartbreaking to have this whole thing ripped from me but I can’t tell a story about friendship w a manipulator.

I’m not sure how long it’ll be until I actually get another thing started but I hope its soon because I was very excited to share a good long story with the xray and vav fandom and I thought this plot wouldve been like a good season worth of content

I had some draws tagged under “#its all connected” and they were all me working on this idea before I actually decided to write it out and try for a whole comic after being inspired by some close friends and the good at being bad animation collab

#xnv #xray and vav #tav script

3 notes · View notes

txladyj-blog · 5 years

Text

This Time Around Chapter - 20

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx by request of @txladyj-blog

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 25/?

The next morning brought with it the promise of rain and a mist that had descended over the woodland surrounding Alexandria that made it both hard to track and see anything in the distance. Jess exercised her morning hunt and Walker elimination with extreme caution, although the party the night before had attracted unwanted attention from the undead due to the humdrum of noise and light from Deanna’s house. The numbers of animals were still thinning and she found a need to expand the area she usually covered.

With her mask and hood equipped, she decided to check Enid’s usual spot for any signs of life before she headed further out into the woods. Eventually, she found her conscientiousness paid off when she came across the girl where she was normally sitting, in a hollowed-out tree that doubled up as an ideal hiding spot from Walkers. She was reading and her head snapped up unexpectedly when she was stirred by the sound of Jess cracking a twig beneath her boot. A rookie error when in stealth mode.

Enid quickly began to shove her book back into her backpack and scramble to her feet, using the trunk of the tree for stability. Jess held out her hands to halt her.

“Woah, it’s OK. It’s just me.” She said.

Enid regarded her with suspicion and began to loop her arms back through the backpacks handles, soon settling it just below her shoulder blades. She took an obvious step forwards, but then changed her mind and retreated back to the hollow of the tree.

“I-I was just heading back.” She stammered.

“No, you weren’t.” Jess countered “But it’s okay. You know you can stay within the boundaries we talked about. You’re fine here.”

Enid was partially hiding behind a curtain of long, brown hair and kept her head low, as if she was afraid of someone being able to see who she was, what she was thinking and what she was all about like she wore it across her forehead. Jess could relate.

“It’s not about the boundaries.” Jess stated knowingly with a small nod. “You want to be left alone.”

She didn’t need a reply or a confirmation either way, it was written all over what she could see of the girl’s face. Being outside helped her to feel something. Anything. It made her feel alive. The walls were imposing and prison like, boxing her in and making her complacent when she thought about the world outside.

“I get it. Stay. If you want. This side is clear of Walkers so you’re safe enough. For now.” Jess informed her. “Just, don’t stay out here too long. I’ll be around so I’ll check on you in thirty minutes or so.”

Jess, having laid down the law and done her parenting duties for the day, turned on her heel and set off for the hunt. She was reasonably satisfied that Enid would be safe enough until she returned. After all, the girl was probably out there more than she was when she really thought about it.

“Parker?” Came a small voice from behind her, cutting through the air like a songbird, soft and innocent.

Jess stopped and turned around blinking with the realization that Enid was quite possibly the only one that didn’t know her real name yet. Her absence at the party meant she’d missed the drama and revelations. Jess gently flipped her hood back and nuzzled out of her mask, seeing Enid’s eyes widen slightly.

“Please, call me Jess. Parker is my brother’s name.” She smiled

Enid moved closer, shrugging her black backpack further onto her shoulder. She studied Jess’s features and scanned the rest of her while she had her locked in her sights.

“Why lie about your name?” She asked.

“Same reason you like to come out here and read, all alone.” She answered confidently “Anonymity. Privacy. Peace.”

The young girl seemed to understand and nodded with a small smile. Nothing else needed to be said when there was a mutual comprehension between them both. Jess had been keeping an eye on Enid for as long as she'd lived at the fairground. She needed the freedom of being able to leave for her own sanity and she also had no one behind the walls to tell her otherwise. She spoke to Aaron, who cast a watchful eye over her when he could, but on the outside, Jess made sure she came to no harm. They rarely spoke and when they did it was only when necessary and Enid was grateful for that. In fact, the extent of her gratitude reached further than Jess thought. She inched closer and quickly looked around at their surroundings, Jess remained in place.

“Right. I just wanted to say thanks. For looking out for me.” Enid said sincerely.

Jess was rooted to the spot when the girl loosely wrapped her arms around her middle in a feeble, fleeting but meaningful hug. She found herself smiling as Enid stepped back and a genuine grin was exchanged between them before Enid head off in the direction of the gate.

Jess decided to wait until The girl was out of sight, something in her gut told her there was a reason for her lingering until she’d gone. It was proved right when she saw another figure emerge from between the trees from the other direction.

Shards of light from the sun beaming between the leaves illuminated Carl’s Sheriffs hat and Jess sighed to herself. She should have known that where Enid was, Carl wouldn’t be that far behind, despite her earlier warnings for him to stay inside the walls.

She wasn’t surprised when he stopped moving upon noticing her presence, his shoulders sagged and he offered her a strained smile that told her; ‘Alright, you caught me.’ Jess marched towards him and motioned to a couple of tree stumps to her right. Trees were cut down occasionally to allow for the community to make fires for cooking and warmth, thus saving the generators for as long as possible. He plonked down onto the stump, readying himself for what was expected to be a long lecture about following Enid over the walls.

“What did I tell you, Carl?” Jess started.

His defenses went up and he turned to her, his eyebrows knitting together and his face changing to an expression of desperation.

“She’s alone out here! I can’t just leave her!” He cried.

Jess held her gloved hands up to quieten him. Sensing that her intentions were not solely to scold him, he immediately backed down and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I knew she was here. I just spoke to her. She’s gone back over the wall now.” She explained “You’re the one that was alone. You need to be more careful, Carl. Stop following her out here or I’ll have to tell your dad.”

Yes, it was a threat but it was only delivered out of necessity and Jess had faith that Carl would heed her advice, meaning that she wouldn’t have to follow through and inform Rick of his son’s venturing into the woods in pursuit of a girl. What’s more, she hoped she wouldn’t have to explain her knowledge of it for the past few weeks and why she never spoke up in the first place.

“You wouldn’t.” Carl challenged.

“Wouldn’t I?” She smirked in response.

Don’t test me, kid.

“Uggh, don’t be a snitch” He groaned “I just get worried about her, okay?”

“I know you’re worried about her. That’s what happens when you care about someone. But you have to look after yourself too. You have a Family that love you and don’t want to lose you.”

If she had to be honest, she couldn’t say that if she was Carl’s age and in his situation that she wouldn’t have done the same. But Carl was precious, not just to Rick but to the whole group and the community having to come to terms with such a loss didn’t bear thinking about.

“I know. You’re right.” He conceded.

It was the perfect opportunity to bring up the topic of discussion between her and Daryl in the abandoned house. Jess took a few moments to decide which angle to approach it from and shifted her body to face Carl.

“Daryl told me you were asking him what you need to do to be good to Enid.” She said. “You already know this, in your heart. But I guess a little more advice wouldn’t hurt.”

Carl shrugged a shoulder up, if he was anywhere near embarrassed, he wasn’t showing it.

“Yeah, Daryl said to ask you because you’re a girl.”

Jess almost laughed when she remembered Daryl’s reasoning for dragging her back into the fray.

“Yeah, I got that.” She sniggered “OK, I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise not to tell anybody else.”

His face lit up at the prospect of being trusted with information that was to stay between the two of them. First, he’d kept her identity under the radar, now, she was relying on him to keep something else to himself. It’s had become. A strange bonding exercise, being entrusted as the keeper of secrets.

“Yeah. Sure. Of course.” He quickly agreed

“And you have to promise not to come out here alone anymore” she added.

“But Jess-”

“Carl” she warned with a stern voice and a raised eyebrow.

“Ok, fine. I promise.”

Jess took a deep breath and tried to evaluate the consequences her words would have should Carl fail to keep them under wraps. It was a risk, but one she could probably explain away should she need to. It all depended on how she worded what she was about to say

“He doesn’t know it, but Daryl is who you should be using as a good example of how to treat a girl. You should pay attention to how he treats me.”

It had been said and it wasn’t until she heard the words spoken instead of in her head, that she realized just how much she believed them.

“What?” Carl said “You mean, you guys are-”

“-No! Oh, no!” She corrected, a little quicker than desired “We’re friends. Close friends. But he knows how to treat a girl the way she deserves and it’s strange because he’s never had anybody in his entire life to tell him how to do that. He just knows.”

“Well…What does he do?”

Her vision moved out to the trees while her mind worked to filter though her memories of Daryl and every time his actions or words had made her feel like she was worth something. There were a lot and she was sure that if she ever told him he wouldn’t have even known.

“He makes time for me. I think he likes being around me. He laughs with me, teases me, actually listens to what I have to say and if I need him, I know he’ll be there.”

“That sounds nice. For you.” Carl mused.

“Yeah, and it’ll be nice for Enid to have somebody like that because you can bet your ass that idiot boyfriend of hers hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing. If he did, she probably wouldn’t be out here most days on her own” she told him with a wag of her finger

Carl laughed at her take on things “hope you’re right” He mused. “If Daryl is so good to you, why aren’t you his girlfriend?”

A wave of nervous energy washed over Jess and she couldn’t help the strained and somewhat odd giggle that escaped her lips. Knowing her only option to bypass being tangled in a conversation on a topic she really did not wish to discuss was ignoring the question, she slapped her hands on her knees, rubbed over her jeans and got to her feet.

“Carl, you’re never going to get a chance with the girl you like unless you stay inside the walls. Because you’ll be dead. Now, c’mon, let’s get you home” She declared.

With that, she linked her hand under his arm and pulled him upright, frog marching him towards Alexandria and trying to ignore the mocking grin he was giving her.

Daryl was sitting in a truck by the gate when Jess managed to smuggle Carl back in without Rick or anyone else but the gate guard noticing. Stealth and secrecy were her expertise and Carl was glad of it when he spotted his father outside the armory in discussion with Carol. He quickly ran behind the houses, evading Ricks focus.

Daryl smoked a cigarette and followed Jess with his eyes as she crept around the perimeter, keeping Carl in the shadows and sending him on his way once he was out of sight. Then, she made her way towards him where he was already enjoying seeing her inside the walls with her hood down and mask hanging around her neck as opposed to hiding her face. She’d braided her hair and the loose strands from the front blew gently in the breeze, it added a delicate and feminine edge to her mysterious and capable front.

He squinted at her in the sun and pushed away his anxiety about what had transpired the previous night. It wasn’t something he’d planned, or even thought about. Rather, it had just happened and he couldn’t say that he regretted the mildly flirtatious things that he’d said. The result was better than he could have anticipated and instead of him needing to awkwardly back track and apologize, Jess reacted in the best way possible; he could even hazard to say that she’d flirted back, not to mention that she’d referred to him as ‘handsome’. Daryl mused that there was indeed a first time for everything and for him, it was being able to steer a conversation with a pretty girl towards something that hinted at a little more than friendship, even if he wasn’t necessarily sure that she was on the same page. The prospect of her having a genuine interest in him in that respect had come from the certainty that she did indeed have a crush on him back at the quarry and that she quite frequently appeared flustered while in his presence. But now he was under no illusions that their flirtatious exchange was likely to be little more than an instance of getting to know one another. After all, she’d probably forgotten all about it by then anyway. He dared to hope for anything more, disbelieving that he was anywhere near good enough for her anyway.

He watched her closely as she crossed the street and headed in his direction, her hand lifted in a small wave and his fingers rippled up on the frame of the open window of the truck, acknowledging her and returning the gesture. She was back in her regular clothes but Daryl would never forget the image of her in a dress with soft curls and wearing a shy and altogether bewitching smile when he’d informed her of his interest in finding out more about her.

“Morning handsome” she greeted in an echo of the night before

She leaned against the open door of the truck and smiled broadly at him. Something had changed in him and the longer his eyes lingered on her the more he wanted to follow through with his idea of working harder to find out the things about her that he didn’t yet know.

“Not sure which nickname I prefer” he expressed “that or ‘Stinky’.”

“‘Stinky’ is now reserved for when you piss me off. ‘Handsome’ is for when you’re in my good books.” Her head tilted to one side and she traced over the edge of the truck’s door with her fingertip.

“I’m in you good books now?” He asked

“You might be.”

“How’d I manage that?”

“Told me I looked nice last night.” Was her honest and surprising reply.

Daryl was shocked to discover that his flirtatious comments hadn’t been brushed off like yesterdays shopping list at all. They were very much still at the forefront of her mind and for some reason he couldn’t quite place, she presented as different to him. She was bolder and for the first time he was able to see a glimmer of a side to her that had hijacked his curiosity more than he cared to admit.

“You did” He reiterated bravely.

“Ooh.” She hummed “You’re determined to stay there, huh?”

“Kind of a good place to be” He mentioned “Better’n you pointin’ guns at me in the woods like a crazy lady”

“Aaaand you just secured your place back in the bad books, Stinky.” She giggled while she his gaze, bravely grinning at him and trying to stop the sparking mass of excitement in the pit of her stomach from making her do something she would regret. From her peripheral vision, she could sense Rick at the other end of the street. He was still at the top of the armory steps, shoving his Python into its holster at his hip.

“You heading out?” She asked Daryl.

“Yeah, found a guy livin’ in the woods a few miles out all by himself. Rick is coming with me to talk to him, see what he’s about” he explained.

The smile stayed on Jess’s face and she nudged her head up, conveying that she understood. Part of Daryl wished he didn’t have to leave, that Rick wasn’t on his way to climb into the truck and venture with him outside of the walls. He wanted to stay, to stay with Jess and spend the day just talking to her. Or, to at least find a reason to spend time in her company.

“Come with us.” He suggested from nowhere. It was driven by impulse, and idea that wasn’t thought through but said regardless.

“Thought you didn’t want me going anywhere that wasn’t local. You put your big, protective foot down, remember? Breaking your own rules, Dixon” She reminded him with an element of smugness.

“Ain’t gotta.” He shrugged. “plus, what’s the point of rules if they ain't for breakin’ from time to time?”

“Daryl Dixon, the eternal rebel.” She smiled with a much better executed wink than her previous effort “I’ll tag along.” The idea of a trip far from the town was an appealing one and not just because of the company she would be keeping. Jess was beginning to get cabin fever after pacing the same paths and looking at the same walls. She left the quarry to be a free bird, to go where she pleased and on occasion, she felt nothing but hemmed in. She needed to be busy and Daryl’s offer couldn’t have come at a better time. She hopped in the back and hung an arm on each of the seats in front while they waited for Rick to arrive. Daryl discarded his smoke and swung his legs into the truck, closing the door and turning his head to see Jess peering at him from her position between the seats.

“So, what’s the deal with you bringin’ Carl through the gates like he’s contraband?” He wanted to know.

“Oh, about that, I caught him outside the walls looking for Enid. I’m keeping an eye on him. Don’t tell Rick”

A slight glance over his shoulder told her that he didn’t like the idea of withholding information from Rick, but some things need not be said to save any unnecessary dramas.

“You tell the kid what ya told me?” he asked.

“Told him what he needs to do, yes.”

“Alright. We’ll see if it works, I guess.”

“It will.” She commented with a firm confidence only to be met with a suspicious side glance from Daryl. “It will!” She reiterated “He’s got excellent mentors.”

“What, me n’ you? Two people who ain't never had a relationship before? Alright, whatever you say.”

Jess playfully slapped at his shoulder and scoffed at his negativity, although she couldn’t deny that he had a point, she wasn’t about to agree with his statement.

“It doesn’t need experience; it needs patience and faith. You’ll see.”

“OK, cupid.” He mumbled. A thin piece of red thread garnered his attention on the dash and he picked it up and began winding it around his fingers as he leaned on the steering wheel. “Whatcha say to him anyways?”

It was the second time he’d made a try for specifics on the subject and his intent felt dangerously thinly veiled. He was interested, curious to know about Jess’s expectations and advice. For a moment, he considered the idea that he probably needed the advice more than Carl did. A quietness from beside him concerned him and he looked to his side to see her lip curled up at one end and a glint in her eye.

“That’s between Carl and I.” She finally replied. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

A short huff from Daryl meant he was dismissing the subject rapidly and started to rummage around in the glovebox, secretly hoping that she would grace him with the truth someday. More than aware that her conversing with him was becoming a lot more than just chit chat and jest, Jess toyed with the idea of asking something a little more direct than she usually would.

“Were you drunk last night?” She questioned.

As if the notion had sparked a fire under him, Daryl shot back to his seating position and frowned at her.

“What? No.” He answered, “Why?”

“Wondering, that’s all. Was thinking maybe you were drunk or it was the dress that I told Aaron was too short but he made me wear it anyway.” As she spoke, her nerves began to rise and it was translated into the flicking of her hands in the air, making her appear to be rambling when she wasn’t.

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?’ He queried, turning his body to face her. She blinked at him and sucked her lower lip into her mouth.

Say it, Jess. Just say it. You want to see his reaction.

“Just…trying to figure out why you flirted with me.”

Far from the response she wanted, Daryl slowly twisted back and settled in the driver’s seat. She heard him sigh deeply, a long, drawn out exhalation. Along with the drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel, she figured they would be the only two sounds she would be presented with. Seconds passed, the longest seconds she’d ever encountered and she was on the verge of sitting back in the seat and pretending she never even bothered to ask.

Daryl was at a loss for words. Such a question was totally unexpected and he hadn’t given a single thought to how he might answer it. He could have been revealingly honest and told her he’d flirted with her because he had feelings for her that he couldn’t explain but didn’t dislike. But the point of such an admission would have been absent and so, he resigned himself to the less is more approach.

“That a problem?” He eventually muttered.

“Uh…No.” She replied uneasily.

It may not have been a problem, but it was still an issue of some sort and for Daryl it was enough to make him highly uncomfortable. His face was stoic with a discipline he’d practiced for years, he peered out of the windscreen at the gate guards swapping shifts. Then, movement in the mirror caught his attention. Rick was on his way to the truck. The air was thick with anticipation and as much as he just wanted to keep quiet and not fuel any more confusion between them, he knew he owed her an answer at least. With Rick a few feet away from the back of the truck, Daryl diverted his gaze to the rear-view mirror and found Jess peering back at him innocently and with a hint of worry on her face.

“Was sober n’ it wasn’t ‘cause of no dress.” He whispered just as Rick interrupted by climbing into the truck.

Over an hour of fleeting glances in the rear-view mirror and frustration near to boiling point meant Jess had to force herself to swallow the urge to ask a barrage of questions pertaining to Daryl’s absolute conundrum of a statement. Reaching their destination, Jess jumped out of the truck and demanded to be shown the route they were taking on a map. Once she had a clear idea of the direction they were headed in, she surged ahead, not wanting to having to endure any more confusion by meeting Daryl’s eye.

Since when did he flirt with her? Since when did he offer such a non-answer when questioned about something? Since when did everything get so complicated? She needed to know what was happening, because something was and she could feel it in her gut. Something in him had changed and she needed to know what. It was obvious that he’d timed his answer strategically, in the seconds before Rick opened the truck door and climbed inside. He knew she wouldn’t continue probing about such a sensitive subject in front of anyone else and he took advantage of it.

Smart She thought Smart and annoying.

The day was hot. Dry, dusty air howled through the leaves and branches of the woods and Walkers were congregating in higher numbers than Alexandria had to deal with. Rick and Daryl took it upon themselves to put most of them down as the small group moved towards their destination with Jess picking off the stragglers at a distance with her bow. Multiple times she’d heard Daryl call her name during combat with the undead, but every time she ignored him. She could handle a few Walkers with her bow and didn’t need his assistance. What she did need, was an explanation.

As they approached a camp nestled in the bushes, Jess slowed her pace and switched her bow up for her machete, gripping it in her hand until her knuckles turned white. She didn’t know why she was so uneasy about the situation, but a niggling in the back of her mind was telling her to proceed with caution. Rick signaled silently with his hand for Daryl to take the left while he took the right and the three of them crept closer, scoping out the area and listening for any sounds. Jess halted and squinted at the dull light in the trees, thinking she’d spotted movement in the entrance of a ripped and moldy tent.

The wind was knocked from her lungs when Daryl's arms locked around her middle, yanking her body backwards and causing her boots to scuff along the ground. He held her flush against his body while hissing in her ear after she yelped in surprise.

“Shhhh”

“Wha-what are you-?" She tried, but his hand shot up and clamped over her mouth. She could feel his breath on her neck as he held her still, his strength obviously hard to rival.

“Trap.” He breathed in her ear.

Rick quickly shuffled along from the far side and partially knelt in front of them, positioning himself in Jess’s eye-line. He raised an arm and traced along the nearly transparent wire that she had almost activated.

Jess wriggled from Daryl’s grasp and brushed angrily at her clothes. Why hadn’t she seen that? She had one that was identical set up by the gate of the fairground. Her mind had undoubtedly been elsewhere and now she was embarrassed about missing a trap she considered to be child’s play.

“Y’all go ahead” she told them both. “I’m too distracted to lead anymore”

The displeased glare that Daryl received as she passed him was not lost on him and he charges ahead, stepping over the trap with Rick and pushing through the trees towards the tent.

Everyone knows the feeling; when you’re looking at someone and you know that you’ve seen them somewhere before but your mind withholds vital information that would lead you to figure out exactly why that person was already in your memory before you happened upon them.

Daryl and Rick kept their distance and their weapons drawn while the scruffy, toothless man before them rambled about living in the woods for months and how hungry he was. Tilting her head to the side, Jess examined his arms and the rotund shape of his stomach. This man most certainly was not starving and his voice was also ringing a bell. It made her skin prickle and turn cold. She stalked back and forth behind her two comrades, aware that she was not avoiding the leering gaze of the man that was sitting on the floor outside his ruined tent. His clothing was in decent enough condition. Holes in the knees of his pants sewn up and his plain, blue shirt was devoid of the stains and rips that living in the wilderness would create. Something was amiss. Jess stopped walking and adjusted her grip on her machete.

“How many people have you killed?” Rick asked. It was one of three questions that were customary in the recruitment of outsiders that helped to identify a good person from a bad one.

“I dunno… a few. Gotta do what you’ve gotta do, right?!” The man declared before releasing a throaty, loose laugh that seared into Jess’s memory.

I know you.

She charged through the gap between Rick and Daryl and flung her machete at the man, stopping centimeters from his throat. Time suspended around her and for a few seconds, there was nothing but her rage and the flash of fear in the man’s eyes. She was sure Rick and Daryl were speaking to her, probably urging her to back down. But she heard nothing but the thud of her heartbeat in her head.

“Did you find what you were looking for in the city?” She hissed

“W-woah, lady. Relax. I don’t know what you-” he stammered, saliva sprayed from his toothless mouth as he spoke, dotting her blade with spit.

“-are you sure? Because I remember you. That phlegm infested laugh and how you drummed on the metal cage you drove through the streets with a half naked, screaming woman inside.”

Gradually, the sound of Daryl and Ricks voices began to sleep through her rage and she could sense Rick approaching her, holding a hand out towards the handle of her blade.

“What did you do to that woman?” She wanted to know.

“What woman? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He cried

“The woman from the damn cage, asshole! I know you and I know the band of pricks you’re working with! I heard you in the woods, before we killed your buddy. You’re collecting women, and you’re out here as bait, aren’t you?! Poor, starving guy all alone in the woods, begging for help from passers by. Where are the rest of your group?”

The man’s face began to tremble with each escalation of fury in Jess’s voice. Her anger was rising and everything blurred when she bypassed needing an answer to her question and moved her arm back, readying herself to slice his head clean off.

Daryl came out of nowhere, barging into her and knocking her to the floor. Her machete left her hand and scattered across the dirt, skidding to a stop a few feet from her fingers while Daryl pinned her to the floor. Her back hummed with pain from the impact and her shoulders were locked under his weight. She kicked and bucked beneath him, her strangled yells sounding out across the area. She could see Rick lunge towards them and scoop up her blade with his revolver still pointed at the man, who was staring, wide-eyed at the scuffle.

“Let me go!” She growled “I know what he is… fucking rapist bastard! We need-we need to kill him!”

Daryl was shushing her as best he could, but his words were falling on deaf ears.

“Let me go, Daryl! GET OFF OF ME!” She bellowed. But he shifted his grip on her, most of his body now covering her in the dirt. He managed to bring a hand to her face, steadying her thrashing and lowered his lips close to her ear.

“I get it” he told her “I get it, Jess. But you gotta calm down. We gotta be sure”

“Let me go” she snapped

“Can’t do that until I know ya ain’t gonna chop his head off or put an arrow between his eyes. We can’t just kill him.”

“Yes, we can. He’s one of them. The men from the woods when we hid in the stream. You know what they are. I saw him, I looked back and I saw him. They pick up women and use them. I saw them in the city. They had a woman in a fucking cage, Daryl!” Her lungs were straining and her speech was forced from her throat into a stream of rambling. She paused and struggled, snapping her head to the side and locking eyes with the man “Rapist pig!”

“Hey, hey, hey, c’mon. Don’t look at him.” Daryl soothed, gently turning her head back to him. “Look at me.” He peered down at her flushed and enraged face, noticing that the fight seemed to have left her limbs “Look at me. it’s just me n’ you. Please.”

He was so close to her that the sweaty strands of his hair were tickling her face and it occurred to her that if she lifted her head slightly, she could see right down his shirt to the toned landscape of his chest. All at once, the situation became about more than just him keeping her in line.

At least I get to know what it’s like to be under you, Dixon.

The contact wasn't lost on Daryl either, who was becoming starkly aware of the dangers that friction coupled with being on top of an attractive woman held. He forced his mind to the task at hand and tried to remain logical and focused. But the curve of her hip and waist was making things extremely difficult.

She grit her teeth and wriggled while shooting him an angry look and breathing through her nose. She had to concede soon or the man had a good chance of escape. She needed to change tact and the only way she could do that was if Daryl allowed her to get up from the ground. She began to calm and shifted slightly under him.

“fine.” She spat.

She turned her head and huffed against the dirt, sending a cloud of brown dust up in front of him.

“Slowly. Don’t try nothin’. Please” he requested as he gradually moved back and let her have control back in her upper body. She sat up and he still held onto her legs, still straddling her thighs, untrusting and wary. She brushed the dirt from her hair and clothing and stared at him.

“You alright?” He asked

“You know we have to kill him. He’s not going anywhere near our people” She whispered with a quick glance at the man, who was now being grilled by Rick and staring down the barrel of his gun.

“We can use him. Keep in the cell. He could have information.” He reasoned.

It took all manner of pleading looks before Jess finally gave in and agreed not to hurt the man if Daryl let her up from the floor and when she was finally able to stand, she cleared her throat and dusted herself down, throwing an awkward glance Daryl’s way and finding him imitating her expression.

Maybe I should kick off again, that was kinda fun. She thought.

After a detailed discussion between Rick and Daryl while Jess paced angrily back and forth behind them, it was decided that the stranger was to be tied up and taken back to Alexandria’s jail where he would be interrogated for information. Daryl was confident in Jess’s declaration that she knew the man and had seen him twice before. If he was a part of a larger group that were a danger to the people of their town, then they needed to know what they were up against.

Throughout the negotiation and with a gun still pointed to his head, the man remained adamant that he had no idea what Jess was referring to and he was, in fact, simply a drifter living alone in the woods.

“You got any weapons?” Rick asked.

“No. Even if I did, you could shoot me in the head right now.” He answered.

Daryl and Rick didn’t believe him any more than Jess did and so it was with great caution that he was lifted to his feet with Jess volunteering to search him and bind his hands at his back. Rick handed her some rope and she stepped around him, lowering her eyes to his wrists which he’d brought around to his lower back. Between his hands, she spotted the unmistakable grip of a pistol tucked deep into his waistband.

“He’s got a gu-”

It was a blur and it felt like her feet lifted clear of the ground. In one swift movement an arm was clamped around her throat, pressing on her windpipe and her other arm was bent behind her back. A cold, circular pressure on her temple made her heart sink. Her chest constricted and fear hammered through her veins. She tried to struggle, to use her feet to stamp on his boots, her one, free hand desperately clawed at his forearm but he didn’t budge.

“Back up or I shoot her.” The man said calmly with a crazed grin on his face that made Daryl’s blood run cold. Both Rick and Daryl took a couple of steps back, Daryl’s face etched with worry. “Weapons on the floor”

“You don’t have to do this.” Rick tried as he and Daryl placed their weapons in the dust. “We’re just going to take you back and talk to you. Let her go.”

The man turned his head and pushed his nose into the side of Jess’s hair. He sniffed loudly, his eyes rolling up and a laugh crackling from his lungs.

“Let her go?” He chuckled. “Why would I do that? She’s a prize find. They don’t come in such good quality after all this time. He’s gonna loooove you, sweetheart.”

“I’ma fuckin’ kill you” Daryl growled.

Jess’s body began to shake with terror and her mind kicked into overdrive at the many horrendous possibilities that could befall her if the man was able to drag her away somehow. She tried to think, tried to formulate and plan and hoped that Daryl and Rick were coming up with something themselves.

Another mocking laugh and Jess could feel the vibration from it rumble through her back. Nausea swept over her and she swallowed hard, her eyes lifting to Daryl who stood, motionless and staring at her captor as if he was imagining tearing him limb from limb. Rick was still trying to talk him into submission, his every attempt met with mockery and an even tighter grip around her neck. Around his prize.

Out of nowhere, Daryl dived at them, his shoulder colliding with the man’s hip and lifting all of them into the air.

BANG

Jess landed with an almighty thud at the same time as the gunshot rang out through the woods. She shook her head as her eardrums ached and her hearing muffled and quickly felt over her clothes for wounds or blood. In her peripheral vision she could see Rick running towards them in slow motion.

Am I hit? Did he shoot me? I can’t feel anything. No, I’m not hit. Then who did he…?

She scrambled up to her knees, spinning around and taking in the scene before her. Everything was still moving in slow motion and her ears were now ringing with pain from the noise. Her mouth dropped open. She was hyperventilating. She blinked rapidly, able to make out Daryl scrapping with the man on the floor. Punches were being thrown and footsteps neared her. She was knelt on something metal; her knee was thrumming with discomfort. She shifted and picked up the strangers gun.

“ON YOUR KNEES ASSHOLE!”

It didn’t even sound like her own voice. It was loud and built of fury and fire and a determination unlike she’d never felt before. The man threw his hands up and climbed up from where he’d been subjected to Daryl raining punches down on him.

“Woah, lady. Everything was goin’ just fine until ya boyfriend here jumped in.” He commented. “We was just gonna have ourselves a little trip before I delivered ya to the big guy. It ain't nothin’. Just give this up n’ nobody else has to get hurt. We’re all just trying to survive, right? Whatever ways we know how? Why don’t ya just put down the gun? Huh? Sweetheart.”

Rick, who was also pointing his gun in the same direction, noticed Daryl roll onto his back and clutch his thigh. Strained grunts and cuss words filled the air and Jess put two and to together. They exchanged a glance that conveyed Jess would be the one to hold the assailant at gunpoint while Rick dashed over to Daryl and began applying pressure to his wound.

He shot Daryl.

Tears filled her eyes and her vision blurred. The man’s face distorting through a glassy view and her breath suddenly becoming incredibly difficult to pass through her lungs. Intermittently, her eyes flickered over to Daryl on the floor, losing blood quickly as the crimson pool in the dirt beneath him grew larger. Rick partially obscured her view as he tended to him, using his knife to carve off a part of his sleeve to double it up as a tourniquet.

“Daryl?!” Jess yelled, ignoring the pleas from her target who was still waffling on in front of her and trying to talk his way out of being shot in the head. “Daryl?! Are you Okay?!”

“Uggghh…yeah. M’okay.” Came the unconvincing reply. Her hands were shaking around the gun. The gun that she’d failed to check for ammo. She quickly examined the magazine, satisfied that she wasn’t being taken for a fool. Her blurred vision coupled with Rick’s body positioned in front of Daryl meant that she still couldn’t see much and she began to panic.

“RICK?!” She bellowed but was met with nothing. Her labored and shallow breaths sounded ten times louder than usual and she felt like everyone could hear the terrified rhythm of her heart pounding in her chest. “RICK?! ANSWER ME!”

“Yeah?” He shouted back.

“Tell me the truth, is Daryl lying to me?”

At her feet, the man was giggling maniacally and Jess was trying her hardest to ignore the uncomfortably unstable way in which he was conducting himself in such a situation.

“It’s funny.” He chucked “This is all pointless. You’re all going to die anyway! Ain't nothin’ but the hell down there and the hell up here!”

“Shut up” Jess snapped. “Rick?! I need an answer here!”

“Yeah. He’s hit. Got him in the thigh.” Rick eventually called over his shoulder to the tune of Daryl’s painful cries. Jess’s stomach flipped.

“Tell me that bullet hasn’t hit his femoral artery” She told him.

“No, I think it missed it.” He replied, straight away this time. “You alright over there?”

“Yeah. I got this.” She affirmed.

Jess messily swiped at her eyes with her sleeve, clearing her vision somewhat and allowing her to see the blackened rings under the man’s eyes, his toothless void of a mouth twisted into a sickening grin and the rapid swelling of his cheekbone that must have been courtesy of Daryl. She tilted her head to the side and shifted her weight evenly over both feet. Both of her hands gripped the gun and she sniffed away her tears, finding some semblance of strength that had suddenly been mustered from some part of her being. It didn’t need to be thought about, she knew what she had to do.

She lowered the gun slightly and pulled the trigger. The deafening noise ripped through the trees.

“Jess!” Daryl yelled, quieted when the man’s piercing screams sounded up from in front of her as she stood over him and watched him grip the bleeding, ragged wound in his thigh. He squirmed and writhed in agony. Her face was blank and her actions were fueled by a need for a violent revenge. Jess had never been a violent person and recoiled at any type of physical force. But it was the end of days, humanity was reduced to a ‘them or us’ mentality and when it came to those she cared about; it was a different. No one shot Daryl and got away with it. She slowly crouched in front of the bloodied stranger, hoping that he was feeling even an ounce of the torture that Daryl was experiencing.

“Shh” She hushed gently. “Shh. It’s going to be alright. You’ll see” The man gradually raised his head to her, his face revealing the extent of his pain. She held the gun up to his temple, choosing the angle so she could escape being splattered with blood. It was strange how her logic was working when everything else was a mess.

“No. No. Please” he cried, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Shh” she cooed. One of her hands sought his, taking hold of his bloodied fingers and tenderly rubbing her thumb across his skin. “It’ll be alright” She repeated. “You’ll see.”

BANG.

Bright sunlight was the first thing Daryl saw when he woke. He squinted in discomfort and turned his head away from the window. His head was heavy and his stomach was empty. His throat was dry and there was a dull numbness to his entire body that he thought was consistent with the time he’d raided Merle’s stash and taken his Oxycodone. But he didn’t remember taking anything. In fact, he didn’t remember much at all. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling his lungs tighten and his limbs tingle. Just how long had he been asleep?

Moving his head back, he scanned the room, alarmed to find that it was not the usual place he lay his head. He recognized it to be the infirmary and like a floodgate had opened, everything came rushing back to his memory. The woods. The stranger with the gun. Pinning Jess to the ground. The gunshot wound to his leg. Jess putting an end to it all.

Jess. Where is she?

He grunted and screwed his face up when he tried to move. It dawned on him that he was actually under the influence of strong painkillers that were doing a good job of masking the pain, but not managing to take it away altogether. His leg spiked with agony and he balled his hands into fists as he raised his head from the pillow and noticed the still form of Jess, sitting by the side of his bed with her head resting on her arm on the mattress. Her dark hair was covering her face and her hand was draped over his forearm. He swallowed; his throat drier than the Mojave Desert when he tried to speak.

“J-Jess?” He croaked.

She stirred and let out a small moan, adjusting her position on her bent arm. Daryl smiled at the sight, he didn’t want her to see him in his current state at all, but in truth there was no one else he wanted to see in that moment. He glanced down at her hand delicately placed over his forearm and rotated his wrist, bringing his elbow back and catching her hand in his. He could have stayed there like that for hours. With her fingers wrapped in his grip and her sleeping on his bed. But he needed to know if she was okay and so, he squeezed her hand.

Jess shot up and jerked her hand away from him, her chair scraped against the infirmary floor and her wild eyes checked the room before landing on Daryl. She brought her hand to her chest and caught her breath.

“Oh my god. You’re awake.” She sighed.

She ran a hand through her hair and blinked the sleep from her eyes. Daryl noticed her clothing, a far cry from what he was used to seeing her in. She wore plain black jeans and a white T-shirt. No logos, no emblems or superhero symbols.

“How long ya been here?” he rasped.

“Since we brought you in.” She said “I haven’t left this room.” He furrowed his brow and tried to comprehend exactly how long she meant and wondered how she’d managed to change if she’d not left the room. “Eric brought me some clothes. I got changed while you were sleeping.” She explained, like she could read his mind.

“How long have I been here?” He wanted to know.

“Almost forty-seven hours.” She yawned, covering her mouth and propping her head up on her elbows, using the mattress beside him as a table.

“Jesus.” He grunted. No wonder he couldn’t properly feel his limbs.

She rose to her feet and hovered her hands over him as he struggled to sit up. When she tried to offer her assistance, he quickly held up a hand and shook his head, wanting to complete the simple task himself.

For a moment, Daryl pondered over who had undressed him when he looked down at his bare torso and his arm hooked up to a drip as he sat there, shirtless and slowly dragging the covers up as far as they would go. It had, in fact, been Jess and Denise that had teamed up to get him into bed, aided by Rick, who did the heavy lifting due to Daryl passing out from blood loss and becoming a dead weight.

Denise, who was trained as a surgeon but ended up in psychiatry before the turn, had panicked when it was revealed just how much blood loss she was dealing with. Daryl’s blood type being a complete mystery to everyone in the room only served to heighten her worry. It was Jess that volunteered to donate, quickly announcing that she was O negative and therefore able to donate blood to anyone. She was quickly hooked up and gave as much as she could without collapsing, eventually falling asleep in the chair next to Daryl’s bed and moving only to explain the drama to Aaron and Eric, who brought her clothes and food and tried unsuccessfully to coax her back to the comfortable, warm, spare bed at their place.

“How are you feeling?” She questioned.

“Kinda lit” He admitted

“That’ll be the Oxy” She replied with a quick giggle. “The bullet missed your femoral artery but you’ve got some damage to repair and it’s going to take time. Denise got the bullet out but she says you’ll need physiotherapy to build the muscle strength back up in your leg."

“Mm. Great. This Oxy’s some good shit. You know where she keeps it?”

She didn’t bother to answer, only throwing him a stern but amused look under a raised eyebrow. Sitting back down in her chair, she was aware that the cushioned seat had now become flat and hard from hours of being compressed by her tired body. She really needed a bed for a couple of hours and a belly full of decent food. But leaving Daryl when he’d just woken up was not an option. She briefly reached up and checked his drip was still working, looking over the connections in the wires and gently turning his arm to check the valve. Feeling him staring at her, she met his eye and sat back against the backrest.

“You good?” He asked.

She didn’t know the answer. On the one hand, she was filled with overwhelming relief that he was alive and would live to carry on his constant mockery of her. On the other, she was horrified at the very real possibility that should the bullet had hit his artery, she’d have been preparing to attend his funeral instead of staring him down when he hinted at wanting more Oxycontin.

"Fine" She squeaked.

She cursed herself internally when she couldn’t hold her tears back. Like a freight train, the events of the last two days had hit her all at once and it was wholly overwhelming. Salty drops flittered down her cheeks and she lowered her head, hoping that Daryl was high enough not to notice.

“Don’t look fine.” He commented.

Typical. Turns out he’s not high enough to overlook me being an emotional wreck.

“Don’t. Don’t do that” He urged.

She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and sighed quietly.

“Jess” He cooed, his tone of voice quieter and soothing “He’s dead. It’s over.”

“He shot you” she exclaimed abruptly, “I won’t have…have anyone hur-he shot you. It’s- no. Just no. I won’t have it.”

She wrung her hands in her lap, irritated by the sound of her blathering.

“Been shot before. Takes more than that to kill me” Daryl pointed out.

She managed to look up and meet his eyes, smiling at him tearfully and fiddling with the corner of the blanket on the bed. She froze when he subtly but very deliberately slid his hand across the sheets and touched her fingers to interrupt the twiddling of the blankets hem. He lightly rubbed back and forth over her index and middle fingers. Her skin ignited and she gazed down at his bloodstained hand over hers.

“What are ya doin? You actually cryin’ at me right now?” He asked.

“No” She lied with a croak.

“Stop this now, alright?” He told her. “C’mon, don’t be no crybaby, s’posed to be a badass.”

Jess couldn’t help but laugh. She was discovering fast that playful, well-meaning jest was actually customary to his personality, he was just very selective with whom he chose to share it.

“No, that’s you. Mr. Indestructible.” She chuckled with a couple of sniffs.

“Hey.” He uttered, noting her gaze drop again and forcing her to look up at him with a slight squeeze of her fingers. “Thanks for shootin’ that prick. I’d have done it myself but I was-”

“-Dealing with a hole in your leg?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll kill anybody that tries to hurt you.” She revealed without thinking. Too terrified to look at him for fear of him thinking her comment strange and dramatic, her lips parted and she fixed her vision down into her lap.

Oh, lord. Apparently, I’m just broadcasting everything in my head now.

“Same.” He mumbled unexpectedly.

The eye contact that transpired between them following such a deep confession was unlike anything either of them had felt before. It was an intense, lingering connection in which the rest of the room seemed to fade into a vignette effect and there remained only the two of them. Time became irrelevant, it could have been hours that passed and neither one of them would have noticed. It was only when a noise from the door snapped them out of their trance that Jess flinched and swallowed hard. Now slightly uncomfortable, but determined not to show it, Daryl simply observed her shift needlessly in her seat. It was quite the moment to him and one that meant so much without saying anything at all.

Masterlist

tagging as requested

@lilred254 @woundmetender

#daryl #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x oc #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction

9 notes · View notes