#she's definitely got a chokehold on my brain right now...

[wordsofwhimsy]

❀ꗥ～𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 ～ꗥ❀

❀ꗥ～ Part Two ～ꗥ❀

Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x Southern Belle!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice-of-life, southern charm overload

Word Count: 2,303

Synopsis: Mark is definitely not obsessed with the new girl in school—he’s just... curious. Totally casual. Until she invites him to lunch under the big tree out front and serves up a full-on southern picnic. Between the cloth napkins and sweet tea, Mark finds himself spiraling farther into the honey-soaked abyss.

a/n: we in this y'all!!!! idk how many parts i'm gonna make for this but reader really got my ass in a mf chokehold 😭 boutta write a self insert x southern belle!reader fic LMAO jk

read part one ❀ꗥ～ Here! ～ꗥ❀

Mark walked into the cafeteria like he did every day—casual. Breezy. Totally unbothered. He was just a guy. Just a regular guy getting lunch like everybody else.

So what if he’d spent the last three hours thinking about the girl who sat next to him in biology? The one who talked like sweet tea tasted and looked like she’d stepped off the set of Gone with the Wind. That was… normal. Totally.

His eyes swept across the room as he passed the lunch line, definitely not looking for anyone in particular. Nope. Not at all. He was just… checking the place out. You know. Casually. Like a guy who did not care at all.

And yet—his gaze kept drifting. The same corners. The same tables. Maybe she left early. Maybe she wasn’t a cafeteria person. Maybe—

“So…” William’s voice cut in, eyeing him like he was trying to spot a fever. “You gonna stare into space all lunch or actually eat something?”

Mark blinked, yanked out of his spiral. “Huh? Yeah. I’m good. Totally fine.” He dropped his tray onto the table and shoved a handful of fries into his mouth like that would make it true. “Just thinking.”

“About what? The pizza?” William poked at his slice like it might bite him. “Pretty sure that thing’s been here since last semester.”

Mark gave a weak laugh, but his thoughts were already sliding back to you.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Like his brain had just been waiting for an opening.

William furrowed his brow, then his eyes lit with recognition. “Oh, the girl from Georgia? The one in that dress? Looked like she just wandered off the battlefield at Gettysburg?”

Mark choked a little on his soda. “She’s not—okay, she’s got a style. It’s charming.”

William smirked. “She was wearing pearls dude.”

Mark didn’t even try to fight the smile spreading across his face. “I know. It was… kinda amazing. She sat next to me in biology. She called me sugar.”

William snorted, shaking his head. “Are you—actually, yeah I believe it.” He leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “She would talk like a Southern Living magazine. Bet she drinks lemonade out of mason jars too.”

Mark leaned in, too excited to care. “She said something to me—I can’t remember exactly—but it was like… ‘You look sweeter than a cricket dipped in molasses on a June afternoon.’”

William blinked. “That’s… not a sentence.”

“No, no, it was something about pie. Or syrup? Maybe biscuits?” Mark frowned, trying to dig it back up. “‘Pretty as a pie cooling on the sill?’” He paused. “...That’s not right.”

William tilted his head, clearly entertained now. “You okay, man?”

Mark snapped back, blinking. “Huh?”

“I didn’t know you had a thing for southern girls.”

Mark opened his mouth to deny it. To say it wasn’t like that. That he was totally, absolutely fine. But instead, what came out was: “She gave me a butterscotch.”

William stared. Then nodded. “Oh yeah. You’re gone.”

But before Mark could sink any deeper into the warm, sugary spiral that was his brain on you, a flicker of movement outside the cafeteria windows caught his eye.

Under the biggest tree on campus—sprawling and sun-dappled like a snapshot straight off a postcard—there you were. Flowery dress. Ruffled sleeves. Lunchbox open beside you like something out of a 1950s Coca-Cola ad.

And then, like it was choreographed by fate itself—you looked up.

Right at him.

Mark froze. You smiled, your whole face lighting up like you’d been hoping he’d be look your way. Then you gave a little wave, the kind that made his stomach do cartwheels.

His first instinct was to look behind him. Surely you weren’t—wait. You were pointing. At him. Then you lifted your lunchbox slightly, tilted your head, and gave a beckoning little gesture, like Well, come on over, sugar.

Mark didn’t even feel himself move. His body had apparently filed for independence from his brain. One second he was at the table, the next he was halfway to the door.

“Dude,” William called after him. “You haven’t even finished your—”

Too late. He was already floating out the door like a cartoon character, drawn by the siren call of sweet tea, sunshine, and maybe—just maybe—a second butterscotch.

Mark tried to play it cool as he walked across the lawn. He really did.

He slowed his steps. Smoothed his sweater. Tried to remember how arms were supposed to move when walking like a normal person and not a malfunctioning robot. Unfortunately, none of it mattered, because the moment you looked up at him with that sweet, sunshiney smile—he short-circuited all over again.

“Well, hey there, darlin’,” you said, tucking a curl behind your ear. “You looked awfully lonely in that big ol’ cafeteria. Thought maybe you’d come keep me company.”

I will keep you company every day. I will build you a porch swing. I will learn how to make sweet tea from scratch. I will fight a bear for you. Just say the word.

Out loud, he managed: “Uh… sure. Yeah. That’d be cool.”

But as he got closer, he noticed something that almost made him trip.

You hadn’t just plopped down on the grass with a brown bag like everyone else. No—oh no. You had laid out a whole blanket. A soft yellow one, perfectly smoothed out beneath you like you were about to host a garden party and not just eat lunch behind the gym. There were napkins—cloth. A pastel plaid lunchbox. Was that… a tiny jar of honey?

Mark’s brain short-circuited again.

“You brought… a picnic?” he asked, voice caught somewhere between awe and confusion.

You just smiled and patted the spot beside you with one perfectly manicured hand. “Of course I did, sugar. What kind of lady eats her lunch sittin’ in the dirt like a possum?”

He sat slowly, like if he moved too fast you might vanish in a puff of lavender and lemon bars.

“I, uh… I usually just grab fries and call it a day,” he admitted.

“Well, that simply won’t do,” you said, already pulling out what looked like an entire home-cooked meal from your lunchbox. “I brought extra.”

Mark tried not to stare. There was a thermos. Cornbread. A spoon wrapped in a cloth napkin embroidered with your initials. The world around him went fuzzy.

“You, uh… pack lunch every day?” he asked, dazed.

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed, unscrewing the thermos lid. “Can’t rightly trust these cafeteria folks with my grits.”

Mark blinked. “Wait, you have grits in there?”

“Cheddar bacon,” you said with a proud little grin. “Made ’em this mornin’. Threw in just a pinch of hot sauce, too—don’t worry, not enough to make your ears ring.”

“You made these? Before school??”

You shrugged like it was nothing. “Sure did. Even had time to iron my skirt while the biscuits were browning.”

Mark stared. You offered him a spoonful of grits like you were handing him a sacred gift. He accepted it like one.

“Okay, uh, full disclosure, I don’t think I’ve ever actually had grits before,” he said.

You gasped, genuinely scandalized. “Never had grits? Oh, sugar, that’s a sin in some counties. Go on now—first bite’s the best.”

He took a bite. And stopped.

He blinked. Looked down. Looked back up at you.

“…This is stupid good,” he mumbled through a mouthful. “Like—I think I saw God for a second.”

You beamed. “Aren’t you sweet? They came out alright, I s’pose. Didn’t have time to melt a pat of butter on top.”

Mark laughed. “No, seriously. You’re like… a magician. Even without the butter.”

You leaned back on your elbows, pearls catching the sunlight. “And you,” you said with a wink, “are sweeter than my meemaw’s tea.”

Mark was absolutely, positively, entirely gone.

And just when he thought he couldn’t sink deeper—

“Oh!” you chirped, reaching back into your lunchbox. “Almost forgot dessert.”

Mark blinked. “There’s dessert?”

You unwrapped a tiny square of wax paper like it was gold, revealing a perfectly round, homemade pecan pie. An actual pie. At high school.

“I made a whole batch last night,” you said like it was nothing. “Wanted to bring one in case I made a new friend today.”

Mark stared at the pie. Then you. Then the pie again.

He almost said I love you out loud. Swallowed it back down with a wheeze. Accepted the pie like the precious relic it was.

It was flaky. Warm. Sweet. Perfect.

He let out a low, involuntary noise of appreciation. “Oh my god. That’s insane. How are you real?”

You just smiled sweetly, wiping a crumb off your skirt. “It’s just a little family recipe, s’all. Nothing special.”

Mark stared at you. No. It absolutely was something special. You were something special. The picnic blanket. The pearl necklace. The handmade pie. The fact that you didn’t even notice the effect you had on people—that you didn’t seem to realize you were currently starring in a very real, very serious romantic comedy happening exclusively inside his head.

And then you looked out across the lawn, something wistful in your eyes.

“This place is real different from where I grew up,” you said softly.

Mark blinked, the last bite of pie halfway to his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm,” you nodded, brushing your hands together to shake off some crumbs. “Back home, you can’t go ten minutes without runnin’ into somebody you know. My whole high school was the size of y’all’s lunchroom.”

Mark smiled, resting his chin on his hand like a lovesick golden retriever. “What was it like?”

You didn’t even notice the way he was looking at you. You were already off and ramblin’, voice all soft and syrupy and full of color.

“Well, let’s see… mornings usually started with the rooster two houses over gettin’ real full of himself. Mama always made sweet tea first thing—even before coffee—and you better believe if you didn’t say ‘good mornin’’ to every person you passed, someone’s auntie was gonna hear about it before you got home.”

Mark let out a soft laugh, totally enchanted.

“Church on Sundays, of course. Even if you didn’t believe in a lick of it, you showed up dressed to the nines and brought a pie so nobody asked too many questions. Summer nights were all lightning bugs and cicadas. And the air always smelled like grass and honeysuckle and heat.”

Mark smiled. “Heat has a smell?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, nodding like it was a universal truth. “Smells like pavement and freedom and the inside of your daddy’s truck after he’s been workin’ all day.” You laughed softly at yourself, brushing a curl back from your face. “Sorry, I’m ramblin’.”

“No—no, don’t stop,” Mark said quickly, leaning in without realizing it. “Seriously, I could listen to you talk forever.”

You smiled, a little bashful. “Aren’t you just the sweetest…”

But before you could say anything else—

BRRRRRRRRRRRRING.

The lunch bell screamed through the courtyard like it was personally out to ruin Mark’s life.

Mark flinched like he’d just been shot. “No. Noooooo,” he whispered under his breath, staring at the speaker mounted on the side of the building like it had committed a heinous crime against him personally.

You barely looked up, already starting to close your lunchbox with a frown. “Oh, I know, right?” you said, like he’d just commented on the weather. “Lunch period is way longer back home—forty-five minutes, sometimes an hour if the buses were runnin’ late. I mean, honestly, how’s a person supposed to eat a proper meal in thirty minutes? It’s barbaric.”

Mark blinked at you, utterly speechless. You were out here making actual points while he was two seconds away from flying up and ripping the school’s PA system out of the wall with his bare hands.

You just shook your head and sighed dramatically. “No time to digest, no time to gossip… and Lord knows I don’t rush when there’s pie involved.”

He stared. Absolutely down horrendous.

You crouched to fold up your picnic blanket with practiced grace, not a single crumb or wrinkle out of place. It was like witnessing the southern belle version of a superhero packing up her gear.

Mark watched you, stunned. You weren’t just charming—you were a menace. A dainty, smiling, cornbread-wielding menace.

You stood, tucking the blanket into your tote with care, and gave him that signature, sunshiney smile like you hadn’t just turned his entire world upside down.

“S’pose I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’,” you said sweetly, adjusting the strap of your lunchbox like you were heading off to a garden party instead of sixth period. “Thanks for keepin’ me company.”

Mark just nodded, completely useless, mouth opening like he had something to say—anything—but nope. Nothing. Brain? Offline. Vocabulary? Deleted. All that came out was a vague, helpless little “Yeah.”

And with that, you turned and strolled across the grass, curls bouncing, the scent of peach preserves still lingering in the air behind you like a spell.

Mark stood there for a solid five seconds, staring at the spot where you’d been like he’d just watched the sun walk away from him.

Then he looked down at the almost empty pie tin in his hands. Looked up at the bell speaker. Back at the grass.

“…I’m gonna marry that girl,” he whispered, stunned.

He was so far gone, he didn’t even hear William walk up behind him.

“You gonna finish that, or just keep whispering to it like a weirdo?”

Mark jolted, clutching the tin protectively. “Get your own.”

read part three ❀ꗥ～ Here! ～ꗥ❀

[emswritingsstuff]

Home at Last (Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader)

another request from @caseylicious !! i love your daryl ideas so much!! hope you enjoy!! 🫶🫶

Summary: After being left on the roof with Merle, you're separated from Daryl.

WC: 2.7k

--

“Merle was a danger to himself and everyone else, your husband did the right thing.” Andrea looked over at Lori, she just looked up at Rick and nodded, still looking unsure about the whole situation. “What about (Y/N)? I mean she definitely doesn’t deserve to be left with him.” Dale inquired. Glenn shook his head and held it in his hands, just dreading the conversation they were going to have with Daryl. “It's not our fault she wanted to stay; she wasn’t listening to us. What more could we have done,” Rick said matter of factly. Head nods and sighs were a sign of mutual agreement with Rick. They all knew you, but they also knew Daryl. 

It was clear to everyone that you and the Dixons were a package deal. Daryl and you were together for a while before everything had started. Making Merle practically your brother at that point, meaning you weren’t just going to sit around and let a random cop handcuff him. You did agree Merle was out of line but keeping him tied down the roof was not the move. Determined to make them let him go, you stayed with him. Without a second thought too. But that plan failed, as they did actually leave you. Ironically, without a second thought. But they all knew once the news got to Daryl, Hell would certainly break loose within the camp. 

The morning sun casted over the camp, everyone doing the daily routine with their chores. Shane had just brought in the water when screams were heard, the children screamed. Everyone ran to action seeing a walker had made its way onto the camp, eating a deer with a bunch of arrows in it. After disabling the walker, rustling was heard in the bushes, all of them breathing in sighs of relief when it was revealed to be Daryl. But the sighs of relief turned into stressful breathing when they realized what they were about to have to explain to him. 

Daryl was ranting on about the loss of venison, shooting the brain, and whatever else as he marched his way back into the camp. Everyone was keeping their distance from him, not wanting to get too close in case he exploded. Daryl had started yelling for you and Merle, completely unaware of what he was about to find out. 

“Daryl, I need to talk to you about them,” Shane spoke. Daryl looked at Shane with a questionable look, not so sure about what Shane was about to tell him. “Something happened on the run-” 

“They dead?” Daryl looked more tense now, ready to take his anger out on whoever got you both killed. The more Shane and Rick spoke, the more angry Daryl grew. FInding out they had stupidly left you both there threw him off the tiny edge he was standing on. 

“Lemme process this, ya handcuffed my brother to a roof? And left him and my girl there?” The anger was obvious, he was pacing around Rick. Nothing could be said in that moment to make him feel better. 

“If it makes anything better, I chained the door shut so geeks couldn’t get them,” point proven right there. Right as Daryl went to throw a punch, Shane put him in a headlock, pinning him to the ground. “Chokeholds illegal,” he mumbled as he caught his breath still in the group. Rick crouched down to Daryl’s level and told him how it is. That it just had to happen in order for the group to be saved, but he wasn’t buying it. 

Just like how they knew how much he meant to you, they knew how much you meant to him. You were the rational part of him, the part of him that kept him level headed, the part of him they all missed right now. But it was their fault you were gone, at least to him. He had started to break down, just enough to where it was noticeable. 

Rick had made the plan to go out with Daryl and Glenn to retrieve you and Merle, but also the guns. T-Dog soon made the choice to tag along as well. Though, Daryl knew everyone just wanted the guns and could give less of shit about the people he cared about. A nervous gut feeling hit Daryl, he didn’t want to show it, but he was scared shitless. If neither of you were there, he didn’t know what he would do. 

Daryl was getting antsy with Rick and T-Dog taking their sweet ass time getting into the truck. He was pacing again, nervous habit, just needed to see you were okay. Merle could defend himself, he knew that. You could as well, he taught you to, but he couldn’t let go of you no matter what. His leg was bouncing like crazy, the eventual drive feeling like it was taking forever. T-Dog looked at Daryl, just watching him. The tension was high, and he wanted to try and ease the air. 

“So, you and (Y/N), how’d that happen,” Daryl shot him a glare. T-Dog looked away, regretting what he had said instantly. Bringing his rag to his face, Daryl wiped it off and proceeded to speak. “None of yer business, just needa know you messed up leavin’ her there,” Daryl's eyes darted down at his hands not even wanting to engage in anymore conversations. 

Once finally getting to the department store, Daryl hauled his ass through it. Getting to the roof faster than everybody else. Getting the door open, the bright light threw him off. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he was devastated. It was empty.

Blood was all over the floor, Merle’s hand was on the ground and both of you were nowhere to be seen. The only thing of yours left behind being a necklace, intentionally placed where it would be seen. It was a sign that you were alive, but also a sign you were gone. Like you wanted to leave something of you for him. He lost you, he fucking lost you. 

Ever since that day on the rooftop, he swore to himself that he would look for you. No matter what, he looked. Tracking anything he could, any sign of you, just anything. The group had tried to convince him you were gone, to make him stop risking himself out there. Which never worked, he didn’t believe for a second you were dead. When on the road after the farm, he still looked. Going into the woods constantly, claiming to hunt, but in reality just putting up a front so he wouldn’t get chewed out for still looking for you. 

Daryl didn’t want to admit it. He really didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to lose faith in ever finding you again. As the days went on, the tracks were growing cold. The faith he had rapidly dying with it. “She’ll turn up, she’s like you,” looking beside him, Glenn had snuck up on him. He didn’t blame Glenn for the rooftop, Hell, he couldn’t blame anyone for it. Daryl just shook his head and put it down. Glenn spoke up again, just trying to make him feel better. 

“She’s stubborn, should’ve seen her that day. Thought she was going to kill Rick herself for Merle.” Glenn giggled to himself, Daryl just huffing. Not an angry huff though, it was something more lighthearted. The idea of you defending Merle was amusing. “Her ass was probably more pissed at Merle than anythin’” Daryl had gotten used to thinking back on memories with you. Merle and you had never gotten along, ironically it's what he liked about you. Never scared to put him in his place. In return, Merle gave Daryl his approval about you, which was really unneeded in Daryl’s opinion. 

Unfortunately for him, once the group got to the prison so much was happening that he didn’t have time to look. He felt horrible about it, surely feeling like the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth. Everything that had happened became a blur, trying to keep the prison up, the multiple losses, the birth of Judith, just so much going on he could barely keep track. The thing that brought him back to reality was the ambush on Woodbury, and the reunion with his brother. 

But still no you, still nothing. He had to hold back the tears the minute he found out Merle hadn’t seen you in ages. Apparently you had run off when you Merle got with the Governor. When the brothers branched off from the main group, Daryl was silent. Part of him was mad at Merle for letting you go, but the other part was dealing with the fact you were gone. Probably for good. 

Walking through the woods, Merle was talking his ass off. Just saying shit and Daryl couldn’t care to listen to any of it. “Lighten’ up brother! The Dixons are back!” He roughly pat Daryl on the back. Daryl was quick to grumble and shrug off Merle's sorry attempt at making a joke. “Now, what's wrong Darlina? Gotten soft?” Daryl stopped and let Merle keep on walking. It took a minute for Merle to realize he stopped, which made him stop too and look back at his brother. 

“Why’d ya let her go.” Daryl's words were harsh but quiet. Just enough to wipe the smirk off Merle’s face. Stepping up to Daryl, Merle was trying to intimidate him. But Daryl wasn’t going to budge, he was never going to let himself do that. Not with Merle. “I didn’t let her go, the bitch got scared. Didn’t trust the Governor, chose to fend for herself. Like the dumbass she is,” Merle was quickly cut off with a swift punch in his face. Getting knocked on his ass by Daryl. 

He crouched down to Merle’s level and got in his face. “Speak about ‘er like tha’ again, I’ll kill ya next time.” Daryl jerked forward to imitate a punch which caused Merle to flinch. Scoffing, Daryl moved forward through the woods. Just those few interactions made him realize staying with Merle was a mistake, he needed to get back to the family that cared about him and that he cared about. 

It had felt like ages since they had seen anything other than the woods, when it was actually a few hours. When Daryl had spotted a small shed, he was grateful. Maybe there was something in there that could be useful. Daryl whistled to get Merle’s attention and make him see what he saw. Inching closer and closer to the shed door, crossbow at the ready but no finger on the trigger. If something was in there he could act quickly, but he didn’t want to be irrational. 

Throwing open the door, there was nothing there. Putting down the bow, he breathed a sigh of relief and looked some more. There were signs of life but nothing that alarmed him. Water bottles were scattered around, some still filled. Jackpot. Snatching them up Daryl put them with their other belongings. If the person living there showed up, he’d give them back no problem. But finders keepers for now. 

The brothers decided mutually that they were going to camp for the night in that spot, just creating a small campfire outside the shed before turning in. The night dragged on, heavy tension filled air filled the brothers atmosphere. Merle had walked off to look for “food”, leaving Daryl by himself. Just him and his thoughts. He had found himself sitting around the fire just staring at it. The memories came flooding back to him, he just missed you so much. He hates himself for not continuing to look for you. He’ll never forgive himself for giving up, but more could he really do. 

As if the universe was giving him a sign, he heard twigs snap in the distance. His head snapped in the direction of the sound, instantly on edge about the whole ordeal. Standing up slowly he equipped his crossbow but before he could raise it up, an arm wrapped around his neck bringing him down. This wasn’t a walker, this was a person. And a pretty strong one at that. 

Making quick work of getting out of the chokehold he separated himself and the attacker in question. A bandanna was wrapped around their face to cover it, they were wearing a heavy jacket with a hood up. Daryl could barely make out who this person even was, which made it all the more weird when the attacker said his name. Quietly of course, but he heard it. Trying to figure out what was happening he was lost in his thoughts. He never even saw the attacker charge at him again. 

Standing his ground he fought them off as best as he could, just trying to figure out how this person knew who he was. Pushing down harshly, the attacker fell on their back almost knocked out. Daryl took this as his moment to get rid of the disguise the attacker had on, and almost broke when he took the bandanna off. 

It was you, it was really you. He could barely believe it himself. 

Daryl stepped backwards and fell to his knees. Hurting you was something he never once wanted to do, and he just did that. He was defending himself, sure, and you attacked him. Guilt started to weigh on him, causing him to go crazy a bit. The whole situation didn’t feel real, which was a shared feeling. You weren’t in your right state of mind, he knew that. But Daryl was focused on the tears and the emotions he was feeling that he didn’t notice you get up and pounce on him again, successfully pinning him to the ground.

He was trying to explain himself, trying so hard to make you see reality. It surprised him how strong you had gotten after all this time, fighting so hard against your strength. “You’re not real. If you were, you would’ve found me sooner,” you said holding a knife up to his throat. Having him in such a bad position. Daryl acted quick and knocked the knife out of your hands and flipped you over so that he was now holding you down. His strong arm was across your chest and his legs held down yours. 

Tears streamed down his face as you thrashed against him, begging to be let go. Daryl could barely speak, hating to see you like this and him being the reason for it. “I tried, I looked everyday, I never wanted to give up. Please, it’s me.” Daryl’s head fell with his hair covering his face. A few more hits flew from you, definitely going to leave marks, but did not care. He needed you back. 

Surprisingly for him, the thrashing stopped. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fake out, he didn’t look up. But once he did look, he saw your face was softened. Moving his arm off your chest, he freed you a bit. Still weary on if you were in a better space or not. Your arm snaked up from your side where it was held down, taking the necklace Daryl had on in your hands.

“It's my necklace. It is you. You looked for me..” Your voice was breaking and soft, like the regret had set in. He had always kept the necklace tucked under his shirt so it wouldn’t get caught on anything and risk losing it, must've slipped out during the fight. Wiping his face, Daryl looked in your eyes, “Course I looked, never wanted to lose ya.” He eased up and stood up off of you, helping you up in the process. The minute you were up and stable, his strong arms were around you, this time in a loving embrace. 

Tears were falling like they never had before, the both of you just living in the moment in each other's arms. “They left me,” you silently whispered, voice breaking even more., Daryl just shushed you softly and put his hand in your hair. “I know, but now I got ya. Never leavin’ ya again.”

--

btw if anyone has s1-s2 daryl request pls, send them i love him

[estellan0vella]

Love In Print│Bang Chan

Chapter Fourteen: This Is A Bad Idea SS: 3 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 2.2K Content Warnings:

Previous Next Masterlist

Ayame stands in front of her mirror, tugging at the dark green mini dress that hugs her curves in all the right places but feels slightly too bold for her mood. The neckline dips just enough to be suggestive, but not enough to scream desperation, and the emerald studs in her ears catch the light perfectly. She adjusts her coat, shrugging it off and on again until it falls just right. Her reflection glares back at her like it knows exactly what kind of internal chaos she's suppressing.

Minho leans against her bedroom doorframe, arms crossed, his eyes narrowing as he watches her fuss. "Alright," he says, his tone flat but dripping with judgment, "for the last time, why the fuck are you going on this date when you're very clearly not interested in Seonghwa? Like, at all?"

Ayame huffs, spinning on her heel to face him. "I told you already. I'm figuring things out."

"Figuring out how to torture an innocent man?" Minho deadpans.

From Ayame's bed, Seungmin snorts, his legs crossed and his phone in hand. "It's almost Shakespearean. Poor Seonghwa, just a hapless pawn in your self-deluded battle against feelings for someone who definitely has you in a chokehold."

Ayame glares at him. "I don't have feelings."

"Right," Seungmin says, his voice as dry as dust. "And Chan doesn't have the biggest dick energy in this office. Sure."

Hyunjin shouts from the living room, his voice carrying easily through the open door. "Seonghwa's a tragic romance archetype! Destined to be second-best to Bang Chan and his undeniably huge-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Ayame snaps, throwing a glare at the door.

Minho doesn't flinch. "He's not wrong."

Ayame spins back to the mirror, fluffing her hair with sharp, irritated motions. "I kissed him once, and now it's all you assholes ever talk about."

"Correction," Minho says, straightening. "You kissed him twice. Don't rewrite history, shortcake."

"Twice?" Seungmin pipes up, blinking. "Hold the fuck on- twice?"

Ayame sighs dramatically, pulling on her dark green heels. "It's irrelevant."

"Nothing about this is irrelevant," Seungmin mutters, still reeling. "Twice? Jesus Christ, Ayame."

Minho stares at her like she's a walking car crash. "So this date? Is this you pretending the kisses didn't matter, or is this you stress-testing Seonghwa to see if he can make you forget?"

"Neither," Ayame snaps, grabbing her purse. "This is me trying to live my fucking life."

Hyunjin appears in the doorway, holding a soda can like he's hosting a reality show. "Sure, live your life. Just make sure it doesn't end with you screaming Chan's name in bed with Seonghwa."

Ayame's jaw drops. "What the actual fuck, Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin grins devilishly. "I'm just saying, you've got unresolved sexual tension dripping off you like sweat in a spin class."

Minho rubs his temples like he's trying to physically erase the conversation from his brain. "Hyunjin, I swear to God-"

"I'm not wrong," Hyunjin says, taking a loud sip from his soda. "The BCCBC, Bang Christopher Chan Big Cock, is basically a plot device at this point."

"What the fuck is wrong with you people?" Ayame demands, grabbing a pillow from her bed and hurling it at Hyunjin.

He dodges easily, still grinning. "Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Don't murder her confidence right before she goes to dinner with Tragic Seonghwa," Seungmin says, scrolling on his phone. "Let her get this out of her system."

Ayame storms toward the door, her heels clicking furiously. "You're all fucking insane."

Minho follows her to the entryway, leaning against the doorframe as she pulls on her coat with jerky movements. "And you're not going to make it through dinner without thinking about Chan. I give it twenty minutes before Seonghwa's in second place in your head."

Ayame whirls around, jabbing a finger at him. "You know what, Oppa? Fuck you. I'm going."

The door slams behind her, and the apartment falls into silence.

Minho sighs, turning to face the other two. "If she fucks Chan, I'm fucking Jisung."

Hyunjin raises his soda like a toast. "I'll fuck Changbin."

Seungmin doesn't even look up from his phone. "I'll fuck Jeongin. We fall together."

Hyunjin smirks. "The only way to preserve balance in this goddamn mess."

Minho stares at Seungmin. "You just want an excuse to fuck Jeongin."

"And you don't want an excuse to fuck Jisung?" Seungmin retorts, finally glancing up.

"Fair," Minho mutters, collapsing onto Ayame's couch with a groan. "This is such a goddamn disaster."

Hyunjin flips open one of Ayame's romance novels, his expression bored but amused. "Yep. But hey, at least we're getting some action out of it."

Minho throws a pillow at him. "Fuck off."

The restaurant hums with soft jazz and quiet conversations, a haze of sophistication settling over the dimly lit room. Ayame sits stiffly in her chair, her dark green dress fitting perfectly, though it feels too tight in the suffocating atmosphere.

Across from her, Seonghwa leans forward, animatedly gesturing with his hands as he talks about something to do with typography. His enthusiasm fills the space between them, but Ayame's focus has long since drifted.

"So after I left L&M," Seonghwa begins, his voice a bit louder than necessary, "I realized it was finally time to pursue my real passion. Hwa Creative! It's sleek, it's professional, and I think the minimalistic vibe is totally going to set me apart in the market."

Ayame forces a polite smile, nodding as if his words are penetrating her foggy brain. "Minimalism. Very... now."

Seonghwa brightens, as though her generic response is the validation of the century. "Exactly! Everyone's doing flashy, over-the-top designs, but me? I want clean lines, Helvetica-inspired typefaces, and a splash of modern gradients. You know—simple but impactful."

"Impactful," Ayame echoes, her voice flat, barely hiding the monotony she feels crawling up her spine. She takes a slow sip of her wine, swirling it as if it contains all the answers she's searching for.

Seonghwa doesn't notice her disinterest. Instead, he eagerly pulls out his phone, scrolling through his photos with the speed of someone deeply in love with their own work. "Here, look at this logo I designed for my first client. It's not perfect yet, but I think it's a really strong representation of where my aesthetic is heading."

Ayame leans forward, squinting at the screen. The logo is clean, sure, but it's just a generic swirl with some blocky letters beneath it. It screams stock design, but she bites her tongue. "It's... nice."

"You think so?" Seonghwa beams, his chest practically puffing out. "I was worried it might be too derivative, but hearing you say that, it means a lot."

She manages a faint smile, her cheeks aching from the effort. "Definitely."

Seonghwa keeps talking, his voice a steady stream of excitement about colour psychology and the emotional impact of font weights. Ayame nods along, giving occasional "mmhmms" and "rights," though her brain is miles away. Specifically, it's back in the office supply closet, with Chan's lips pressing against hers, his hands on her waist, and that low, infuriating rasp in his voice.

"Am I boring you?" Seonghwa's question jolts her back to the present. His cheeks are flushed, his tone apologetic. "I'm rambling, aren't I? God, I do this when I'm nervous."

Ayame blinks, setting her glass down. "No, no, it's fine. Really."

Seonghwa's face softens, his gaze lingering. "You're amazing, Ayame. I've thought so for so long. And now that we're here, it feels... perfect, you know?"

Her stomach twists at the earnestness in his voice. Perfect? This? The tightness in her chest grows unbearable, but she forces herself to smile, leaning forward slightly. "Yeah," she murmurs. "Perfect."

Before he can say anything else, she closes the gap between them, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that feels more like an obligation than a desire. His lips are warm but soft, pliant, and utterly uninspiring. There are no sparks, no wild rush of adrenaline, no heat pooling in her chest. Just... a kiss.

Seonghwa pulls back, his eyes wide and bright, his expression so filled with awe that it makes Ayame's stomach churn. "Wow," he breathes, his voice hushed with wonder. "That was... wow. You're amazing."

Ayame forces a laugh, her voice hollow. "Yeah. Uh... wow."

Seonghwa takes her hand in his, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. "I knew it. I knew we'd have this connection. You're so incredible, Ayame. I'm the luckiest guy alive."

The tightness in her chest intensifies, and she swallows hard, nodding as if in agreement. "Lucky," she repeats faintly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Seonghwa dives into another story about Hwa Creative's big plans, gesturing wildly about branding and exposure. Ayame nods in all the right places, offering hums of agreement, but her mind is far from the table. It's still in the closet with Chan, his hands gripping her waist, his thumb brushing her lip, his voice low and possessive as he told her to figure out what she wanted.

She stares down at her wine glass, swirling the liquid absently as her thoughts spiral. Her lips tingle faintly, not from the kiss she just shared, but from the memory of the one she can't stop replaying. The weight of her decision settles heavily over her, and for the first time, she wonders if she's been lying to herself all along.

The crisp night air nips at Ayame's bare arms as she lingers outside the towering building. Her heels click faintly against the pavement as she shifts her weight, debating whether to leave. Her cherry earrings sway slightly as the cool breeze brushes against her skin.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself, half-turning to leave. "This is a bad idea."

Before she can take another step, she collides with a firm chest. Startled, her head snaps up, and her eyes lock onto none other than Bang Chan. He's fresh from a run, sweat glistening on his skin, his tank top clinging to his toned torso. A zip-up hoodie hangs loose over his shoulders, and his sweatpants sit low on his hips. His damp curls stick to his forehead, and, of course, that goddamn smirk curves his lips.

"Stalking me now, shortcake?" Chan teases, pulling out an earbud and letting it dangle around his neck. His voice is low, the rasp of exertion adding to its usual charm.

Ayame sighs dramatically, tipping her head back to glare at the sky as if it might save her. "Yes. You caught me. Just finished rooting through your trash."

Chan raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "And? Find anything good?"

"Oh, the usual," she deadpans, crossing her arms. "Food scraps, stiff tissues, and a few adult diapers. Riveting stuff."

Chan laughs, a deep, rich sound that reverberates in the quiet night. Ayame hates the way it makes her stomach flip.

"You're good at this," he says, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You know, being funny."

"And you're good at being annoying," Ayame shoots back, her lips twitching despite herself. "Natural talent?"

Chan grins, but his gaze sharpens slightly, taking her in. "So, how was your date?" he asks, his tone still playful but with a curious edge. "Did he roll the last meatball over to you with his nose? Very Lady and the Tramp."

Ayame lets out a long sigh, shaking her head. "You're unbearable."

"Yeah, yeah," Chan says, waving her comment off. "Come on, I'm genuinely curious. Did you kiss him?"

Ayame hesitates, her hands tightening slightly around her clutch. "Yeah," she admits finally, her voice quiet.

"And?" Chan presses, his smirk fading into something more serious as he studies her.

Ayame takes a breath, her gaze dropping to his chest, then back up to meet his eyes. "And I'm not going to see him again."

Chan straightens, stepping closer. The teasing in his voice is gone, replaced by something deeper, his voice lowering. "Why?"

She swallows hard, her heart thudding in her chest as she answers honestly. "Because nobody kisses me like you do."

The space between them feels charged, electric. Chan's jaw tightens, and then he moves. His arms find her waist, firm but not demanding, lifting her off the ground like it's the easiest thing in the world. Their lips collide, his kiss fierce and consuming. Ayame's arms wind around his neck, her fingers tangling in the damp curls at the nape of his neck. His lips part hers, deepening the kiss with a hunger that makes her knees weak despite not even standing.

Chan pulls her closer, his grip tightening as though afraid she might disappear. Ayame breaks the kiss just enough to speak, her voice breathy and teasing. "Are you going to invite me inside? I mean, it's only fair, I already showed you mine."

Chan grins against her lips, his breath warm as he murmurs, "You're ridiculous."

"And you're stalling," she counters, brushing her fingers through his hair, smirking at his sharp inhale.

He shifts her slightly in his arms, lowering her feet back to the ground but keeping her flush against him. His lips brush against hers again, softer this time, as he whispers, "I wasn't stalling. Just savouring."

"Uh-huh," Ayame hums, her tone laced with mischief. "Lead the way, wolf boy."

Chan chuckles, shaking his head but taking her hand, his palm warm and steady as it presses against the small of her back. "Come on, shortcake. Let's see where this night goes."

They step inside the building together, his arm still lingering on her waist. The warmth of his touch burns through the fabric of her dress, and for the first time all night, Ayame feels entirely sure of herself. Whatever comes next, she knows she's ready.

Taglist: @fackeraccount @ot8girlfie @nightmarenyxx @reimaybeidk

@ismelllikechlorine247 @drewsandsebastianswife @my-neurodivergent-world @rhonnie23 @hanji-coffee

@skzleeknowcore

[doomedpuppetyuri]

hey chat welcome to "gaige rambles about a goldfish for a probably obscene amount of time" ok so ive been like. really depressed lately. and since im a loser who doesn't have an irl social life within a 3 hour drive im instead going to remedy that by yapping to you all about sally seashore. mutuals you guys encouraged this so you're welcome so for about 5 months now sally motherfucking seashore has had me in a chokehold. i thought this fixation was just my brain's way of coping with there being no november issue of the radical left. but seeing as that was 5 months ago that is. evidently not the case "so gaige what the fuck is your deal with this canonically 60+ year old fish woman" WELL. basically i took one look at her introduction, hyperfocused on the use of the word "schadenfreude" and immediately clocked her as the second blonde puppet woman future skeletons was gonna put through some fuckshit. and then i was absolutely right and ive been clinging onto that "i-told-you-so" high since then. so this is going to be just about everything i find interesting about sally seashore. this is extremely self-indulgent but yknow what i deserve a little treat OK FIRST THING GURGLE AND SALLY HAVE SO MANY CHARACTER PARALLELS GUYS PLEASE HEAR ME OUT ON THIS like theyre 2 sides of the same coin. they were both actresses who were repeatedly put in the role of Living Punching Bag so their struggles could be laughed at by an audience who, at the time, deemed it acceptable. We see this more explicitly with Gurgle and her addiction, but i think Sally's intro implies more than enough. They experienced similar treatment during their time onstage, but their outcomes were so different. Gurgle is able to get some form of closure for what she's been through in the volume 1 finale, calling out Fawkes's attempts at using her and her addiction to fearmonger, and as of volume 2 has been recovering from her addiction quite successfully. Sally, on the other hand, never got any justice for what she endured. She was just carted off and locked away, still taking all of the fire and having to pay her tormentors' price. It makes perfect sense that she'd be so aligned with Herbert. She wants payback for what she's been through. side note but I want her and Gurgle to interact so badly,,,,I feel like there are so many possible directions that could be taken with that. What would Sally feel towards her? Jealousy? Sympathy? I'd love to see that explored in canon,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,character focused spinoffs when but uh this dm of mine works pretty well as a tldr i think /silly

SECOND THING THE SYMBOLISM Ok so like. Sally as a character is just full of symbolism. For starters, her design. She's definitely coded as a physically disabled character, with the species choice of a fish limiting her mobility and causing her to need help moving long distances until she receives an aid(her mechanical limbs), and to make her a goldfish in particular, a fish that so commonly suffers at the hands of its caretakers due to ignorance(goldfish aren't even supposed to be kept in bowls, and i feel like the choice of having her in one could very well further play into the metaphor of her not having proper accommodations pre-issues 3 and 4) adds another layer to the symbolism. There's also the problem attic as a whole, and how every inmate critiques a different aspect of normalized behavior in a bygone era of cinema. I think there being a lot of Looney Tunes-esque undertones was absolutely intentional(Sticky LePrick's name probably being a play on Pepe Le Pew, most of them being animal puppets as opposed to the Sesame Street styled monsters that make up most of the main cast, one of Sally's lines possibly being a reference to Sylvester the cat, you get the idea im rambling i need to close these parentheses) as older Looney Tunes cartoons were full of mean-spirited "humor" that would've received far more initial backlash if released today. So yeah I definitely think that switching to more distinctly Looney Tunes inspiration as opposed to the Sesame Street/The Muppet Show inspiration found in (most of)the rest of the cast was a detail that worked very well for the point they were trying to make with these guys Another little thing I like about Sally is that there seems to be a shift in her demeanor from her first appearance to her appearance in the finale. When she's first introduced in the attic, she comes across to me as somebody who's sort of resigned themself to what they believe to be their fate, understandably a bit depressed. However, when she reappears in the finale, she's a lot more outspoken. It's a subtle change that makes a lot of sense, considering that in the finale she's finally been granted physical autonomy. She has the chance to fight back, and she's taking it. It makes perfect sense for her to not want to listen to Hippy and Mr. Burton, she says herself that experiencing the power that she is is a first for her. also wasnt sure where to put this but im like 99.999% sure she was named after that one tongue twister so. insert that "the more you know" gif here I also just think she's a fun character. I love her design, her color palette is really pleasing to look at as someone who loves green and yellow/yellow and blue paired together, and i also like that she's the only one of the attic inmates who swears. Also her being an actress for 60 years gave me some more evidence for my "i dont know how puppets here age but it is NOT the same way humans do" theory so love that for me. but overall JIM JAMES PLEASE PUT HER IN THE NEXT VOLUME I DONT CARE HOW JUST PUT HER IN A PANEL AT LEAST PLEASE 🙏🙏💔💔 FREE MY GIRL

alrighty that concludes this edition of "gaige rambles about a goldfish for a probably obscene amount of time". if you are still reading this i love you and if you want my soul or smth just hmu because ill give it to you /silly

[caralluma]

Get 2 Know U Game

thank you so much for the tag @xxnashiraxx !! I'm very late on this because tbh I haven't done one of these before and I'm grateful to be tagged <3333

Under the cut because it's long AF ;_;

Last Song: I'm a die-hard LDR fan and I was listening to her while baking yesterday. her voice does things to me. this is my favorite song of hers probably ever, as well as the album. she knew what the fuck she was doing.

Favorite Color: this one is tough. right now I would have to say indigo/ultraviolet, very blueish purple. I had my hair this color for a while and I miss it.

Last Book/Fic: Until You by @bloodinwine has been nonstop spinning on the microwave plate in my mind since I found her work last summer ;_; June just released chapter 20 and I am still in recovery. please send help (or don't really) Effy and Star have been making out in my brain nonstop and I never want it to end-

Last Movie/TV Show: for movies, I watched Queen of the Damned recently for the first time in maybe 15 years and GOD it was so cool. the soundtrack, the vibes, the casting....... it's so Y2K goth/numetal I could die. if you haven't seen it you need to. Lestat and Akasha were my bi awakening back in the day and it still holds strong. RIP Aaliyah.

As for shows, I watched The Queen's Gambit all the way through for the first time a couple weeks ago and it was beautiful! I never thought I could cry over chess. They really put in work on the visuals since it takes place in the 1950s-70s and in multiple different countries, so I constantly found myself staring at the backgrounds and fashion. Very well-executed all around.

another show that has had me in a chokehold...you guessed it...Interview with the Vampire S1/2. I cried so hard at the end of S2 I had to keep pausing. too many feelings. I just love Lestat in everything. Beautiful cunty men are my biggest weakness.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Spicy forever I have zero shame - my fiancé and I recently made our own chili crisp because Lao Gan Ma isn't hot enough. we order level 5 hot every time. our bodies will hate us in 20 years but it's worth it.

Last Thing I Searched For Online: Sims 2 CC. I've been playing the Ultimate Collection for as long as I can remember (refuse to give EA any more money to break my precious game) and I have a 3GB mod folder. Safe to say I have 10k+ hours in it and I definitely got the Sims 2/Vampire brand of autism.

Current Obsession: Until You Until You Until You. I would say Astarion but FUCK if Effy doesn't just tie him all together. I might read it start to finish again soon ;_; I love them so much. Thank you always June. <33333

Looking Forward To: SPRING! I live in southeast Texas and it's been warming up here lately. When we moved here this time last year, there were thousands of little wildflowers covering the plains and I YEARN to see them again. Specifically Evening Primrose. Just look at these little babies. They're everywhere here!

As for tags, I don't really know who I can that hasn't done this yet! If you see this and you would like to do one, please do! I'd love to get to know my mutuals better <3333

[shrimptacodaniels]

fight so dirty, but your love’s so sweet

boxer au has had me in a chokehold. so here are the sillies 🤍🤍

——

She might throw up right now. 

Someone’s just walked into the arena. Tall, slender, fair skin. Katrina catches a glimpse of a tattoo sleeve winding up their arm. Short hair the color of honey. Determined face. Toned back. Incredible legs (which feels inappropriate to notice, but. Wow.)

Katrina can feel Josh press into her shoulder, but hardly registers it. 

Because shit, her opponent is maybe the most beautiful person she’s ever seen. 

Josh whistles lowly. “She’s hot.” 

“Astute, Joshua, really.” Katrina turns her head to speak into his ear. Cameras, crazy enough, are just about everywhere in the arena. It’s like it’s Media’s job. But Kat’s not exactly out yet, nor does she want her audience privy to her personal thoughts. To their eyes, this is just a last minute strategy exchange between an athlete and her manager. 

“She’s maybe the hottest person to literally ever exist. Which is an extremely unfair advantage.” 

“Well champ-“ Josh is doing That Face of his as he perches an arm on her shoulder. Part smug, part affectionate, and more than part devious. “-you’re gonna have to kick her ass about it.” 

“I hate my job,” Katrina mutters miserably. “Hitting beautiful women sucks.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Oh, so you like hitting women?” 

“You see me in the ring?” he retorts. “No, no you don’t.” 

“One of these days I’ll get you cancelled.” 

He chuckles at that. “Kat, love, my reputation is your reputation. Neither of us wants that to happen.” 

“Speak for yourself, kid.” She winks at him. 

“Get your ass in the ring.”

“Fine, Dad-“ she grumbles. There’s a huge smile on her face, which doesn’t match the bit in the slightest. Damn him for being so easy to joke with. 

“Have fun, sweetie!” he calls after her. 

If you say so. 

—

[Blood Time - Hemlock] 

each party will  be given to recuperate while Janice “Hemlock” Wood is attended to. 

Injury Report: Wood drew her own blood - bit down hard on tongue when attacked

“She’s telegraphing,” Barry says as he hands Katrina a towel. “Lookin’ to sweep your leg when you’re on defense. Change it up a bit more - you’re awful good about being evasive but I need you makin’ aggressive moves. Get yourself outta corners.” 

“Thanks, Barry.” 

“Yeah, Kat.” He takes the towel back, claps her on the shoulder, and walks back to his seat. 

Short and succinct. That’s that. 

Josh snaps her out of her thoughts. He tugs twice on her wrist, asking her wordlessly to lean over the ring. As she rests her head against his to hear over the din of the crowd, she has a sinking feeling she’ll hate whatever he has to say. Probably about the obvious tension between her and her opponent. 

“Proud of you.” 

Oh. Opinion disproven. 

“Hey wait, that was really sweet.” 

He pulls back, all innocence. “What’d you think I was going to say?” 

Katrina, not one to back down from a bit, hisses something vile to him at that - definitely not for public consumption.

“Language, Katrina,” he’s grinning again. “I have an image to uphold for you.” 

“Your ears only, dumbass.” 

“What a burden to bear alone,” he sighs dramatically, before switching his business brain back on. “You’re favoring your right side, by the way. Don’t know if Barry caught that, but Janice did. Fake her out.” 

“Huh, thanks.” 

“Got you, champ.” he flashes her one more quick smile, squeezes her arm in parting, then he’s walking back to Barry. 

—

It’s a tough fight. Janice is good, all steely focus and an evident thirst to prove herself (which is very attractive). But Katrina is better. And when she has Janice jammed in a corner of the ring, she definitely doesn’t think about kissing the scowl off of this stranger’s face. 

That would be crazy. 

Katrina wins. But not by much. 

The car ride back to their hotel brings a weighted type of silence. Barry’s opted to drive the rental, decidedly not trusting Josh or Kat behind the wheel (which, come on, the Highway Incident was a lifetime ago). That leaves Josh and Kat in the backseat to rest (read: debrief on Kat’s notes app so Barry doesn’t get on them for “gossiping” or lack of professionalism or “draggin’ the mood down”). 

Josh passes the phone back to her. 

I think stalking would do you some good.

Katrina stifles a laugh. 

That’s the most insane thing you’ve ever said to me. 

The most insane? Not the ti

Katrina wrenches the phone back before he can finish.

You said we’d never talk about that again 😭

Okay, chill. But seriously. The more we know about Janice, the better. This could be huge for you!! 

What’s your angle?

She’s a newer wrestler! And a damn good one. If you make a connection now, take her under your wing, could boost your image a bit. People love to watch other people be charitable. 

My image is fine

Your image is great, thank you very much. Because you’re a good person with a good manager 🙂‍���️

A humble manager, too

Someone has to give me credit :( 

I give you credit, freak

Mean :(

My moon my sun my stars, please can we stay on topic?? Because I <3 when you do your job

Is that all I am to you? A business man?

You’re also insane, dw 😚😚

Kat :( 

You’re my best friend and the best in the business and I love you to death. 

Okay better :) 

Good <3 now circling back to image

Right. Dude, you’re pretty up there. You’re likable, consistent, a seasoned performer, but adding another layer to your relatability could be huge. People know you, but in a way that makes you almost predictable. You’re good. You need to be a different kind of good. Open some doors. 

…why the hell not. You think she has Instagram?

THAT’S MY GIRL

“You two done?” Barry glances at them through the rearview. “Wanna share with the class?” 

“Business as usual, Barry my guy,” Josh replies. “Just talking about Janice.” 

“Yeah, Hemlock? She was good.” Barry parks in the lot, turning to the back to look Katrina in the eye. “Really good. Might even be a proper match for our girl.” He turns back around, muttering something about his daughters and “damn phones” and the two-point difference. 

They all split up after walking into the lobby. Barry will probably call his wife, Kat has some injuries to take care of, and Josh is working (read: stalking Janice on socials). There’s an unspoken promise that he’ll share the info with her. 

That’s all she needs. 

She’s just gotten out of the shower when her phone buzzes. It’s a text from Josh. 

mike wazowski

KAT SHES A LESBIAN 

No way. She types back immediately. 

HUGE IF TRUE

mike wazowski

AND HER MANAGER OS RAHCHAJS

ENGLISH PLEASE 🙏 

mike wazowski

Rachel

Glazier

S H I T

That’s impressive 

mike wazowski

I know

If you make a connection 👀

Are you asking me to hit on Rachel Glazier for you

mike wazowski

.

No.

Just. 

If you were to hypothetically fall in love with Janice and needed a couple to double with.

Hypothetically. 

Josh, my beautiful summer child

You’re a grown ass man who can talk to her yourself 

mike wazowski

:( 

I’ll see what I can do

mike wazowski

:) 

Although that’s definitely your job

mike wazowski

Help me out 🥺🥺

As a treat 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Because I’m your favorite 🥺🥺🥺

Can I file a complaint? For like. Harassment?? 

mike wazowski

But then who would your manager be??

This is an abusive workplace relationship

mike wazowski

Notice how you didn’t answer the question

ABUSIVE. 

——

no plot only vibes, but i had fun

ps - Josh’s contact name is mike wazowski bc he’s also the manager of someone much more muscly and terrifying than he is (Kat is “Sully” in his phone <3)

also Kat’s wrestling nickname is “Karnage” (like carnage but with a ‘k.’ Carnivorous queen.)

[screampied]

I LOVE YOUR NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS THEME ITS SO PRETTY I LOVE THAT MOVIE SO MUCH

well with that said, this is random but plug sukuna is lowkey crazy but like I see it, for someone who’s lived as long as that old hag how does he not have some just lying around

also I’ve been binge watching the walking dead , like always 💔 but I hate all these new characters there introducing and father Gabriel gets on my nerves ..like excuse me but I wish he’d die off already

also (if you celebrate ofc) happy early thanksgiving!!!! , tbh I do love thanksgiving but I think it’s one of my more disliked holidays

also .. I tried playing the walking dead games but something about my brain can’t get into something completely new while currently liking something, because my hyperfixation and the chokehold the walking dead series has on me is insane (and the fandoms like dead 😭) but I still see some posts here and there 🙏

but besides that I hope your doing good!, your work continues to be amazing as always, and make sure to take care of yourself when you need it 🫶

little note , but I truly do need michonne so bad, she punched Rick in this episode and oh my god she look so beautiful

-cowboy liker anon

THANKYOU POOKSIEEEEE 💟💟. ahhh missed u !!!

omg plug! kuna talk, i am so listening. LMAOO you’re honestly right. sometimes a 1000 year old curse needs a blunt every now n then, shit. i feel like getting high with sukuna would be hilarious. i gottttaaaa write that one day.

wait it’s a new season? PLS i can’t keep up. greys anatomy all over again im crying. but thank u !!!! u too !!!! 🧘‍♀️ woah really? twd games r super good, i got too attached and the first season literally crushed me. lee 💔💔💔💔 season two was super good, three was trash but four was yum! they made a comic too i think. sorta?

but thank you again my love :’) i appreciate you as always <3 i will most definitely, you too!

[grillthegridmydear]

Miss Americana - Bucky Barnes x Rogers! OC - Chapter One

A/N: Thunderbolts has me back in a Marvel chokehold, so this idea has been living in my brain rent free, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: period accurate misogyny, mentions of war and violence.

“This is the last time i’m letting you talk me into anything”

For anyone living in Brooklyn longer than a year, it didn’t come as a shock to see the Rogers siblings tearing through the crowded streets. Granted, on a normal day one or both of them were outrunning whoever they managed to piss off that day, but today they were weaving through waves of people minding their own business to catch the enlistment office before they closed for the day. 

This was the fifth time they filled out the papers, the fifth time steve had dragged her out of her job at the bakery and raced her to the same building, and it would be the fifth time that Evelyn would stand in front of the scrutiny of a man in khaki, with tobacco breath and a condescending smile as he told her, for the fifth time, that women weren't wanted to fight in the war. 

For such a small and frail man, Steven Rogers could still beat her in a race if she was wearing the uncomfortable heeled boots that their mother had buried in the back of her closet, a half size too big but practical for her work. Evelyn knew that she had memorised every detail about her big brother, she knew every trait and character flaw, she could bet money that she always knew what was going on in his head, because he got this look in his eye that warned her that he was going to do something brave (his words) or stupid (her words), she knew that he wasn't going to give up on this. 

Grabbing his wrist right before they turned the final corner she managed to pull him to a temporary stop. “Listen, forging papers once is bold, twice is stupid and three times is insane, doing it a fourth time is asking to be arrested and if I miss work because I'm in federal prison Mr Lewenski is going to murder me.” 

She liked to think that she had mastered her mothers stern nurse glare, Sarah Rogers was a kind woman but people knew she was not to be messed with, and looking at his sister in that moment, Steve was convinced that his mother had possessed his sister from beyond her grave just to try and knock some sense into him. “You really want to give up now, when we are literally ten steps away from the desk?” His question almost knocked the wind from her lungs, of course she didn't, she wanted to fight for her country just as much as he did, and Steve knew that. 

“You know I don’t Stevie, but any more rejections and I’m going to go crazy. Plus it is illegal.”

If Evelyn inherited their mothers no bullshit glare, then Steve definitely got their fathers pathetic pleading face, the kind of look that would convince you to walk into busy traffic if it would help someone. “Evie, I have to do this, I know you do too.” 

“I am weak willed”, was all she could mutter to herself as she sat in the corridor of the Brooklyn enlistment centre for the fifth time, clutching her papers like her freedom depended on it, because if anyone managed to put two and two together and figure out she couldn't be from Paramus and all four other places from her previous attempts, then it would. “Rogers, Steven” was called by the man sitting at the reception desk and her brother gave her a hopeful smile as he stood to learn his fate, but even from across the room she could see his shoulders fall, and the loud thud of a stamp solidified what she already knew, 4F, rejected again. Her nerves shot through the roof and her grip tightened on the folder of forms in her hands, she could go up to that desk and beg for a chance, to be given the same opportunity to do the right thing that any other man in this room was given, or she could accept that the only answer she would ever be given was that the factories were always looking for more workers if she wanted to make herself useful. 

When she rounded the corner to find Steve waiting for her, her hands were empty and the trash had gained more paper. 

“I’m sorry Mr Lewenski, it won’t happen again.” Evelyn mumbled as she exited the tiny cramped office in the bakery with her tail between her legs. Arthur Lewenski was a kind man, and he treated her like he did his own daughters Maggie and Ruth, which is why she hated letting him down. She knew that ditching work to chase after Steve and their dreams of joining the military was only going to end in her being unemployed and their bills being unpaid. She also hated the look of pity in his eyes every time she had to explain to him why she disappeared on an extended break when her brother came running through the door, he knew what she was trying to do, and while he admired her courage and compassion to help those who were suffering, he was also aware that unless she wanted to do basic first aid on men who were coming back from the front lines half dead if they were coming back at all, she was never going to see the insides of an army camp, let alone the inside of a uniform. 

Work was slow after the events of the afternoon, and before she knew it she was sliding the last of the trays of pastries and loaves of bread back into their boxes for tomorrow, the last customers had left and the doors were locked up, she was the only one left in the building after she promised her boss that she was fine to lock up by herself and that someone was coming to walk her home, lying was becoming a habit these days. 

A shallow knock on the glass of the door was unwelcome at this hour of the evening and while she knew that she could handle herself she would rather just go home and sleep off her embarrassment. “We’re clos-” was all she could call out before she looked up to meet a familiar face, eyes that could kill and a smirk that could steal a million bucks. 

Steve and Evelyn were definitely a dynamic duo all their lives, but there was very rarely a place they could go where you wouldn't find Bucky. Inseparable would be the understatement of the century and while most guys would groan at the thought of their best friend's little sister tagging along on their adventures, Bucky always seemed glad to see her, at least he smiled at her like he was. The click of the lock and the delicate ring of the bell above the door greeted him as Evelyn switched off the lights and emerged from the storefront and finally put the day's work behind her. 

“So, Paramus huh?” he chuckled, leaning against the window like he had nowhere else to be. “Yes Paramus, and in my defence I barely got in the door so technically I didn’t commit a crime this time.”

It was only when she finally looked up from the keys in her hand that she got a good look at him, James Buchannan Barnes was her neighbour, her brothers best friend and the man she had been in love with since the third grade, and if Evelyn knew her brother inside and out then Bucky was a mystery, a beautiful mystery who was standing in front of her in an army uniform. 

The look in her eyes clearly betrayed every thought that was running through her mind because he straightened up before he addressed the elephant in the room. “I ship out tomorrow, the 107th, Sergeant Barnes.” 

The feelings in her chest would have flooded out into the street had she not mastered the art of putting on a brave face, pride in her friend for his achievement, jealousy that something that came so easily to him was the one thing she couldn’t have, fear that she could say goodnight and never see him again. Losing her dad and then her mom taught her that she could feel all the emotions in the world but they had to be invisible. 

“Sergeant, suits you.” said with a practiced smile on her face “That definitely won’t inflate your ego.” 

“I’m sorry Evie, but I know I'm going to sleep a hell of a lot better knowing that you and Steve will be here when I get back.” 

‘If you come back’ flickered through her mind like an unwanted memory, Bucky had long since learned that Evelyn Rogers could not be talked out of something when she really wanted it, at least not by him, so knowing that he was going somewhere they couldn't follow, it was eating her up inside and he knew it. “Stark’s Expo is tonight, we’re going.” 

Looking at Bucky in the eyes stopped being hard when she was 15, and she knew by that look that he wasn’t going to let her slink off to the comfort of her bed to lick her wounds by herself. Stolen moments were all she could get nowadays with him, if she wasn’t working then he was off chasing some beautiful girl or keeping Steve out of trouble, so while she knew that her pride was knocked down a few pegs and her feet were aching in those damn heels, the stolen moments would be all she had until he landed back on american soil when this was all over. 

So she dusted the flour off her dress, reattached her ‘everything’s fine’ smile to her face, and started walking. “Fine, but I want cotton candy.”

As it turned out, the cotton candy was a bad decision, because it was ready to come back up with a wave of regret. She knew she should have turned around the second she saw two beautiful girls waiting for them, calling for Bucky as he lead Steve and her through the gates of the expo, at least he had gotten a date for her brother, while all she could do was follow behind as a fifth wheel to the biggest science exhibit of the year. 

Her hopes had built as they walked from the bakery, steps falling into harmony and easy conversation flowing, but now as she dipped away from the stage that held Howard Stark and his flying car that had crashed to the ground all she was left with was a sugar crash and disappointment in herself that for a second she thought that Bucky wanted to spend his last night here with her. She walked without purpose before she stopped to wipe the single tear from her eye, she was used to this, Bucky had never been more than Steves best friend, she knew that he didn't have feelings for her, but the universe decided that she needed a few more knocks today, which is probably why when she looked up at where she had landed she found herself at the steps to another recruitment centre. That’s it, the universe was officially mocking her. 

It was definitely more grandiose than the one in her neighbourhood, flags and posters littered the pristine hallways to motivate people to join the war effort. Her woes were interrupted by a familiar argument, one she had been hearing for weeks now, turning to see her brother and Bucky she knew that Steve was going to do something stupid again, and this time Bucky was not going to do it with him, he had his orders, and he had a date waiting for him. Her steps were quiet as she caught the last of their words, “Right, cause you and Evie have nothing to prove.” 

Falling into line with her brother she could feel the air leave the room, they were three peas in a pod, each just as stubborn as the last, but she knew her brother was right. This was about doing the right thing, and while Bucky struggled to see it, the same way everyone else did, Steve and Evelyn knew that they wanted the chance. 

Their paths had never branched off before but as the girls called for Bucky she knew that this was marking a turning point, he was going somewhere that they couldn’t follow, this was the goodbye she was dreading. Words were exchanged between the boys that didn't register to Evie as she watched the love of her life wander further out of her reach, but when he locked eyes with her Bucky had her full attention, a stolen moment, as per usual. “Are you coming dancing Evie?” She couldn't stop her smile even if she wanted to, because as much as it hurt watching him choose someone else again and again, the look in her eyes made him easy to forgive. 

“When you get back.” words that sounded like rejection but were actually a promise in disguise, a promise that he would come back to her, and with a mock salute, he was gone. 

“This is it, if i never have to see another form in my life it will be too soon,” she sighed, slamming the papers on the reception desk before the man with an incredulous look could argue with her. Steve had already gone in for another medical evaluation where Evelyn knew that they would find the same problems as before, and another 4F would be stamped onto her brother's heart. 

She waited, tapping her feet in an anxious rhythm while the questions and condescensions of her previous failed attempts washed over her. Ladies don’t fight in the army, Why don't you volunteer with the nurses?Being a soldier is a man's job, all the same words every single time, spat at her by men in uniforms who saw her as incapable. 

People asked her why she bothered trying, but no one actually wanted to hear the answer. Just as she resigned herself to give up and accept that she would never see the duty she always wanted, she heard her name. 

“Evelyn Rogers” called a nurse, who was flanked by military police. Shit.

The walk down the hallway felt like it spanned for years, this was it, she was going to federal prison for pretending that she was from New Jersey, or just for not being able to take a hint and accept that she wasn’t wanted. But when they stopped and pulled back a curtain to an examination room she saw Steve sitting there looking nervous. Great, they were both going to federal prison for lying about being from New Jersey. Whispers were exchanged by the nurse and doctor before the curtain drew open again, and someone else stepped in. He was definitely not military police, but somehow, even when everyone else left the room, neither Evelyn nor Steve thought they were in any less trouble. 

“So, you want to go overseas, kill some Nazis?” He asked like he was asking for the time. Confusion spread through the siblings as Steve asked him to clarify, Evelyn stayed silent, just listening. 

“I’m Doctor Abraham Erskine. I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve. From Queens. 73rd and Utopia Parkway. And before that, Germany. This troubles you?” 

She could hear the test in Dr Erskine’s question, seeking prejudice that he no doubt found everywhere he went, but as both of them shook their heads he smiled. “And where are you from, Mr. Rogers? Ms. Rogers? Is it New Haven, or Paramus, or... “ Shit, they were in trouble. “Five exams. In five different cities, but it is not the exams I am interested in. It is the five tries.  You didn’t answer my question. You want to kill Nazis?” 

Evelyn could feel the nerves rippling off of her brother as he answered him. “I don't want to kill anyone, I don’t like bullies, Doctor. I don’t care where they’re from.” 

Seeming satisfied with his answer Dr Erskine turned his attention to her. “And you Ms. Rogers? Not a lot of women in the army, why try so hard when the odds are stacked against you?” The look in his eyes told her that he was willing to listen to the answer. “Because innocent people are in trouble, and if I can do something about it and I don’t, then I'm no better than the people who are hurting them.“ 

The doctor studied them both, eyes shifting between them for a moment before he nodded. “I can offer you both a chance, only a chance.” 

And with that, two stamps sealed their fate.

1A.

[drabbles-mc]

Hey I see you’ve been on a Rick Flag kick. Can’t blame you! He’s a tall, sexy man! Which Rick do you like most? Suicide Squad 1 or 2? I loved the first Rick. I love that confident, dominant side of him!

Omg thank you for this. I'm truly in the depths of my Kinnsanity right now. Joel's characters have me in a chokehold like you wouldn't believe 😂

Of the two films I liked the second one more overall. I loved the team dynamics and I love that Rick was very much just like. Exhausted but he still cared. Task Force X are like his unruly children that exhaust him but he keeps showing up for them anyway. 😂

However I will say that seeing him get a bit of a romance arc in the first film???? Rewired my whole brain lmao. The fact that he knew Enchantress was lying to them because she tried to make him believe that someone would be there to comfort him after he woke up from a nightmare??? I get 🥺😭 just thinking about it. Plus, I agree, something about the aggro side of him really is just soooo chef's kiss.

I know that both films sort of exist in their own vaccuums, and there weren't really any storylines that carried over from one to the next, but I still think about him and June and whatever happened with them. I don't have answers about it I just like to think about it lmao.

But yea, at the end of the day I'm very much a team dynamics & found family type of gal and I feel like we definitely got more of that from the second film. I love Rick and all his criminal children 😂

Thank you so much for the ask! 🥰

[cnohpytxyz]

HHL 4

prologue | HHL1 | HHL2 | HHL3

synopsis: C deals with her heat while her bond is near by, Ben struggles to feel safe in his new home, Terry misses C.

word count: 5598

genre: werewolves, my own take on A/B/O, female OCs, domestic bullshit

warnings: s*xual themes, pretty graphic bl**d/c*m descriptions, pessimistic thoughts (not extreme), mentions of gay s*x in a poor light, weird ass simping from multiple characters

notes: while editing this ff I was trying to think of a way to pass the bechdel test. imagine my surprise (/s) when I reread and find I passed it in the first chapter .-. guess it's not as hard as some people think it is.

~/*\~

This is torture. C thought as she was tossed into the nth scenario of the week. 

Someone—probably Beah—thought it would be funny to set her bond up in an apartment near her heat room. He couldn't have been far. C supposed he was in the octagon, maybe a thousand or so yards away. If she had a window, she might have been able to see into his new home.

Thank God she couldn't.

Ben had moved in about a week after their initial meet and, for the past five days, he'd been dreaming up various ways to fuck his brains out...

…and hers, much to her dismay.

After the first day, C was grateful when the sun went down, assuming he’d be going to sleep. And he did. He definitely slept, but apparently his unconscious mind was just as thirsty because the following few hours were a miserable mix of lust and absurdity who in their right mind considered Cats: the Musical fap material that couldn’t quite get her to cum. 

It had been years since she’d had sex—not that it bothered her most days—but that night she found herself clawing at the thick metal door, begging to be released from her prison. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, now that she was a little more clear headed) the room was soundproofed, so no one heard her desperation. 

She had never cried from an orgasm before, but, holy hell, C found herself downright sobbing when Beomgyu finally released into his hand at 4AM that first night, her own orgasm flowing in sync. Some time during the following days, she had tried to close the bond only to fail time after time. She didn’t know if it was because of his proximity or because of her own weakness, but there was no stopping the images from flooding her mind. Those nights were miserable. 

Tonight didn’t seem like it would be much better, but, luckily for her, Terry and Kai had taken Beomgyu to explore the compound for the day. The few hours she got alone helped her calm down a bit. She tentatively tried to close the bond.

No dice.

C felt desperate tears prick her lash line as she realized there'd be at least three more days of various sexual scenarios she couldn’t control if she got turned on by Sonic and Mario one more time she might lose her damn mind. 

Usually her knotting dildo (specially made to take care of Lupina heats) would do the job just fine. It wasn’t enough to satisfy the mating urge, but it kept her skin from burning. 

Now though… 

Sigh…

Now it was useless. Granted, she hadn’t been satisfied during a heat in a long ass time and Beomgyu’s fantasies certainly delivered, but, damn, the time and images it took to get there was the absolute worst. It felt like she was back in Russia and strapped to that table again… deprived of touch with satisfaction just out of reach. 

She shook her head. It was useless to focus on those things now, and it wasn’t like it was completely awful. 

Just a little awful. A smidgen of… awful.

A moan cut through her thoughts and C belatedly realized she was on the verge of another orgasm. Even when she tried to focus on other topics, Beomgyu had her body in a chokehold. But if his fantasies were any suggestion, she wasn’t the only one.

No pun intended, she vaguely thought, as the image of her hand around his throat consumed her thoughts. She could almost feel his pulse under her palm when she leaned down to whisper in his ear, “You like that, pup? ” C groaned, gritty with lust and a good helping of cringe (she’d find time to gag at those words later), suddenly very thankful for her upcoming “business trip”. 

She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to look him in the eye without either combusting or punching him in the face and, ironically, the gunpowder excursion would give her time to cool off. 

Seconds later C felt a familiar tensing shoot through her spine, signaling her release. And then…

And then?

…

There was supposed to be more. 

There was usually more. 

C directed her attention inwards again, brows furrowed in concern, only to be met with darkness. Was he that tired? More silence followed and she groaned in relief. 

She closed her eyes and took a breath before sitting up on the now ridiculously wet mattress. Her mattress protector had mostly abandoned its post and now laid on the floor, only a single corner desperately clinging on. She had done away with any sheets on the second day, a decision she was now unsure of seeing how much blood and cum came out of her. Then again, a thin sheet wouldn't have made much of a difference. Not to mention the dried red clumps already made her skin crawl, a whole sheet of crunch might make her pass out.

A finger slid up her thigh on impulse, catching a trail of cum and blood before it joined the rest of the abominable puddle, and her face twisted in a grimace. C fought the urge to fling her whole self into the trash can, reasoning that it wouldn’t be any cleaner.

Disgusting. She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment before a yawn prompted her to stand. For the past five days Beomgyu had tormented her to the point of exhaustion and she’d only gotten some sleep while he was out that morning. She supposed more fantasies would follow later, but for now she felt normal—dehydrated as hell and more tired than she’d ever been since the change, but normal nonetheless. C glanced back at the bed, debating the pros and cons of sleeping in a puddle of her own fluids again.

Turning away with a sigh, she let her disgust win. A shower was certainly in order, but she should probably take care of the mess first. After kicking the blankets to a corner—a cleaner would take care of them once she left—she grabbed her water bottle with one hand, flipping the mattress over with the other. 

C sighed at the hassle of replacing the bloody, cum-soaked monstrosity, but there was no helping it. Usually two mattress protectors would do, the blood being her only concern during previous heats, but in the wake of her thrashing, they were utterly useless. Flipping the bed would do for now and maybe later she could find a way to attach a protector to the mattress.

Snaps maybe? Whatever. She could pour over the specifics later. Right now, there was a hot shower calling her name. 

~/*\~

When Ben opened his eyes in the morning he had expected to be hard already. His morning wood had gotten significantly worse during the time he’d spent at the HHL—something he blamed on that stupid Alpha—and his midnight fantasies were relentless. But today, it seemed he was off the hook. 

For the first time in a while he just laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. There was definitely something wrong with him. He’d always been on the hornier side of things, but every day? 

It was starting to wear on him and a lingering disgust tickled the back of his mind every time he came down from his high. But that only served to make him angrier. Why should he be the one to feel disgusted? They made him like this. Why was he the only one who felt how wrong it was? 

And that damned Lupus. She just had to save him like a knight in shining fucking armor. And then she had the audacity to smile at him like that. He would sue. 

If that was even an option. He doubted it, but surely he should get some remuneration for how often thoughts of her consumed his mind and his dick. It was straight up unfair of her to monopolize his head like that, especially since he’d only seen her twice. 

Ben groaned and tossed his left arm over his face. He was such a fucking simp. A simp for a girl who didn’t even seem interested. 

…

Ok, maybe that was a lie, he thought while her last expression flew through his mind. For a moment she looked like Sasha. He couldn’t help but overlap their images, but in the next instant C looked at him like she’d wronged him some how. He almost felt guilty. 

But then he caught himself. 

Why should he feel guilty for his thoughts? It’s not like she could read his mind. And even if she could, that didn’t mean he was in the wrong. 

…

Damnit, so fucking guilty and for what?

Ben groaned again and decided to let it go. She wasn't even around for him to vent his frustration on, so any more thoughts would just be letting her win. And he refused to let her win. The bitch would be so smug if she knew what he was thinking.

He could see it now—the cocky smirk, the raised eyebrow, if he was lucky, maybe some tongue…

Fuck . The now moderately turned on human sniffed delicately. He really needed to get a grip on his thoughts. All this thinking was draining and he had shit to do. 

Not that it was important shit, but it was shit that would keep his hand away from his dick and his mind off that damned Alpha.

Kai and Taehyun (Terry now, Ben corrected himself) would be dropping by soon to help him shower and get away from the musty apartment-esque residence. Yesterday had been great. He missed his friends immensely, their unknown fates often being his biggest source of comfort while he was pressed under some “patron” in the early morning hours. 

Now that he knew half of them had better fates than him, he was both relieved and slightly jealous. Why did they get years of safety, when all he got was unresolvable trauma?

Ben clicked his tongue. There it was, that ridiculous sense of guilt creeping in again. 

It wasn’t like he wanted them to go through what he did, but it felt so unfair. If only he hadn’t hidden when C searched the street back then. If only he had grabbed her attention at the start, then he wouldn’t have all these complicated emotions. He wouldn’t be so broken. He wouldn’t feel so ashamed to be in his friends' presence. He wouldn’t feel so disgusted with himself.  

Even if he had reacted just slightly slower maybe… maybe he could have ended up like Kai rather than like Ben. 

But he was Ben. 

…

Now he was Ben...

And there was nothing he could do to change the past. Fuck it.  

Maybe he couldn’t change the past, but surely he could change the future… right?

Hang on. Ben’s eyes widened in shock. That was almost a positive thought. A strange sense of pride rushed through him and he couldn’t help but smile. It must be the air here. He took a deep sniff only to be attacked by a sneeze, the sharp motion jerking his body and making him squeak in pain. 

Ben laid on the bed for a few minutes, furrowed brows and stilted breaths taking over his mind. Whoever said emotional pain was worse than physical, should be shot, Ha! He snorted at the double meaning only to follow it up with a sharp gasp of pain. He bit his lip and fought the urge to laugh or snort or breathe or slam his fist into his own face to see if that was less painful.

What time was it? A glance at the clock told him it had only been a few minutes since he woke up. Great. Depressing thoughts at the speed of light. Just what he needed. More time to overthink. The human mind was truly incredible.

Whatever, Kai and Tae–Terry would be showing up soon. Maybe he should try and get up. The nurse told him it would take a few weeks to a few months to recover—and not to move without help—but he was tired of waiting on people to come to him. He could at least sit up. 

Moving his good arm into position, he attempted to push himself upright. Attempted being the key word. It wasn’t entirely the fault of his wounds, he was just too weak to support himself and the pain took out the rest of his strength. The Quickshot Alliance didn’t let him do much while he was there, letting him wither away as they pleased. It wasn’t like he needed physical strength to get pounded in the ass anyway. 

Now that he was here though, he supposed they would let him work out, or at least walk around freely. The management here didn’t seem inclined to use his body for their own gain. No, they seemed more likely to let C take what she wanted. It’s not like anyone else in the New World had the power to stop her. 

Maybe a few powers overseas could do it, but in the Americas, the HHL reigned supreme. 

Ben wondered how they came into power so quickly. He distinctly remembered his first encounter with them being only weeks after the outbreak aired on tv. He was no expert, but that seemed like a remarkably fast time to set up a whole society and secure it enough that they could go scouting for people without worrying about raiders/werewolves. 

He could definitely be wrong… but… did they have something to do with the apocalypse? Did they cause it? Did they send the world spiraling just so they could play hero? Was he even safe here?

Here.

Damn.

He was really here. Like actually, physically here. He pushed aside his fears and let a tear trickle down his cheek. He could finally confirm his friends’ lives, but his thoughts wouldn’t let him rest. The alliance wouldn’t come for him, would they? Would the HHL give him up if Nocturne threatened them? 

He scoffed at the intrusive thought. Nocturne wouldn’t even try to threaten the HHL. He was too much of a coward and Ben wasn’t worth that much anyway. Then again, he was their “prized bitch”. Maybe they wouldn’t outright threaten, but they might infiltrate the HHL to steal him back. 

Ben shook his head, trying to clear his head. Alright, all he needed to do was get buff fast. Yeah. He nodded with an absurd amount of conviction. That was a solid plan. 

…

Or it would have been a solid plan, if he hadn’t been fucking shot, he reminded himself. Maybe he should convince Kai or C to bite him. He doubted they would be convinced, but if he used his body, he might get an edge on C.

He stopped himself. That was a very dangerous line of thinking. Fantasies were fine, but the actual act might make him throw up. But if it keeps me safe. He tried to brush the little devil off his shoulder, but the damned thing chose his good one and shrugging didn't do much to dislodge the bastard. 

He sighed, eyes screwing shut to block his thoughts from taking over. It was gonna take awhile to get rid of that thing. He refused to accept it was his own mind. He wouldn’t betray himself like that.  

“Knock knock.” The door slammed open before Ben could respond, nearly startling him into a ball. A reflex that didn’t go unnoticed by the men that walked through. 

Kai pounced on the bed laughing at the older man’s clear overreaction, “Did we scare you, 형?” Ben felt himself slip into another headspace as he laughed back, the floating feeling offering a mix of comfort and anxiety. Whatever response he managed to force out didn’t raise any flags with Kai, but Terry was different. 

Terry was suspicious. Ben could tell by the intent stare, but why was he suspicious? Or should the question start with what? His pondering threatened to pull him down from his high and for a brief moment he struggled against it. 

Until he realized there was no reason to fight. He was safe. The boys might have startled him, but they weren’t going to hurt him at all. His conversation with Kai got more stilted as he eased himself down, but the naïve Lupus still didn’t notice anything. Terry, on the other hand, was only growing more concerned. 

At least Ben hoped it was concern. The look he was getting could have been a death glare for all he knew. Out of his two old friends, Terry had changed the most. He was missing a leg and the scar tearing from the corner of his mouth to his upper cheek gave him a predatory vibe. If Ben didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that Terry was the Lupus. 

“Hey Kai, could you go grab the wheelchair?” Ben almost sagged in relief when Terry looked away. “I’ll get Ben into the shower.” 

The tall as fuck Lupus pouted, but didn’t hesitate to obey, and Ben was struck with the anxiety of being left alone with Terry. A truly terrifying thought. 

It wasn’t just the younger’s scars that intimidated him. It was also everything else. The height—Terry was probably taller than him now—and the absolutely ripped physique were just cherries on top. Seriously though, Ben didn’t doubt that Terry could lift him with one arm.

A thought that was proven true mere seconds later when said human slipped an arm under his torso and brought him to the edge of the bed in one smooth motion. His anxious thoughts were put to rest at the gentleness of the much larger man’s actions. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The anxiety came rushing back. Ben looked at Terry, the younger man now squatting in front of him. He struggled to school his expression, refusing to let himself slip back into his other headspace. It was a lot harder to control his face when he was so present with it. 

“Talk about what?” He said it with a laugh, but the reply was too late and the laugh was too hollow for it to seem natural.  

Terry watched him with the same eyes as earlier, this time he could tell it was concern. Ben chewed his lip and looked away, the familiar guilt slipping back down his throat to pool in his stomach. 

A sigh brought his attention back and his gaze followed Terry as he stood up. “You don’t have to tell me what you went through, but you should tell someone. If you need a counselor, just let me know. I’ll arrange one for you.” 

“You have counselors here?” Ben’s mouth gaped in disbelief. It was almost unreal how much the HHL could offer their residents. And to think that just anyone could walk up and ask for refuge. It made him wonder why people didn’t flock here by the hundreds. 

Terry smiled and Ben was hit with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. “We have just about everything here. Beah and C made this place into a haven.” He sat next to Ben, staring ahead as he continued. “There’s a few missing perks here and there, but they’ve really tried to gather everything one could possibly need.” 

He seemed very proud of his home. Ben didn’t have to wonder why. 

And there it is. The taste of vinegar sat heavy on his tongue, and he couldn’t hold back a quick jab. “If it’s so perfect, why aren’t there more people here?” 

Terry glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but Ben refused to look his way. “We went under a lock down of sorts about a month ago.” He hurried to complete his thought before the elder male could interrupt. “We usually lock down around the time of the Lunar New Year, since the Lupi get pretty restless around now, but it’s looking like it’ll be a longer lock down.” The scarred man sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The HHL has a lot of resources and therefore a lot of enemies. It hasn’t really mattered before, but now there’s rumors of a larger anti-HHL alliance gathering, so Beah is deciding to keep the gates closed for now.” 

Ben nodded in understanding, but then a thought hit him. “Wait, then how did I get in? Was it just because I’m injured? Will you be throwing me back out once I’m better?” He couldn’t keep his thoughts from spiraling, but Terry’s laughter cut through the fog like a knife through butter. 

“We’re not going to throw you out again.” He made it sound ridiculous. What was the point of a lock down then, if they were just going to let in whoever anyway? “We don’t let in just whoever, dumbass.” The words were followed by a huff and Terry leaned back on the bed. “C brought you back and C can do whatever the hell she likes around here.” Ben sensed a hint of something darker from his friend. 

“What’s your relationship with C?” He swore he didn’t mean to come off as a pissed off boyfriend, but it just happened. It was that damned Alpha’s fault—always up in his head like she owned the place. It was straight up unfair. Why couldn’t he have the same power over her? 

…

Did he have the same power over her? Should he… ask?

No, that would be stupid. Even if he asked, he doubted she’d tell him honestly.  

“I’m sort of the honorary Beta.” Terry’s reply cut through his thoughts at just the right time. But honorary?" C is the Alpha, which is both a title and a… I guess you could call it a personality trait. But since I'm not Lupi, Beta's only an honorary title. She’s been trying to turn me for around a year now, but there’s too many drawbacks to it."

Wow. Where to start? 

“I’m back!” A loud thud followed the equally loud voice and Ben’s door swung open with a slam, revealing his youngest friend pushing a standard wheelchair. Whatever thought process he was working through got cut short by Kai’s second dramatic entrance of the day—he imagined there would be at least two more.

“Alright.” Terry slapped his knees and stood up, the acquired action almost enough to make Ben laugh. He didn't though. There were too many questions floating about his head. 

"Why does C need a Beta? Why are you Beta? Why don't you want to be Lupi? Why isn't Kai Beta? Why did she choose you?"  He didn't mean for that last one to come out, but it ended up slipping. Was that jealousy?

Kai and Terry stared down at him from their intimidating heights, seemingly confused, and Ben wondered which question did it. 

It was probably the last one. Did they sense his jealousy? He debated throwing a "nevermind" at the tail end, but too many seconds had passed for it to seem natural. 

Then again did "nevermind" ever seem natural when it followed a string of questions?

"Let's get you showered first." Terry ended up being the one to speak. "I'll be joining you in the greenhouse for a bit today. There's plenty of time to talk then." 

Ben debated demanding immediate answers, but decided against it. He needed that shower and it was doubtful there'd be an end to his questions. 

And so he nodded and let the other human princess carry him to the shower stool.

~/*\~

As soon as they entered the apartment, Terry knew something was up. The flinching, the glazed eyes, the slightly off breathing, all of it pointed to some serious mental issues. Terry had his finger on PTSD, but he was no psychiatrist. 

Ben hadn't talked much about the past five years, but, with the way he reacted to his given name and the various other signs of trauma, it couldn't have been a good time.

Terry wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not, but he offered his ear anyway. It was honestly a surprise when he'd found out Ben was C 's bond, but that wasn’t the only reason he’d be taking care of the older male. His malnourished friend brought back both the best and the worst kind of nostalgia, and he wasn’t about to let the last time they saw each other become his last memory. 

It wasn't going to be easy though. With the Alpha locked up in her heat room during the Lunar New Year, the HHL Lupi were quickly spiraling out of his control and required near 24/7 supervision. Kai was able to help on occasion, but he was nearly just as useless as Terry. 

The pure rage he had to weather when he told them the Lunar New Year ceremony would be postponed had him shaking in his boot. Not to mention he had no one to celebrate his birthday with. That one probably sucked the most.

Though he told Ben that there were more drawbacks than positives to becoming Lupi, he was nearing the end of his rope. C had to find a Beta quickly, but there wasn't anyone she could trust enough with the role besides himself and so, they found themselves caught in a vicious cycle.

Terry didn't realize how bad things had gotten until he found himself lacking an Alpha, but now that he thought back on it, C hadn't left the compound for more than a day in recent months—starting around the time of the Lupi boom. Before then, she spent more than 2/3rds of the year away from the HHL. 

It was only when she spent an entire month without any distant excursions that Terry thought something was up, but she waved away his concerns, saying it was just the natural progression of things. He had taken it to mean that the HHL no longer needed her to track down new talents—that they had enough professionals in the mix. But that wasn't the case at all. 

There were too many Lupi now. 

Going away for more than a day or two would leave them volatile and prone to attacking the humans. Luckily the Lupi could still sense her presence on the compound or Terry wouldn’t know what he would have done. It made sense why she was getting so pushy about turning him. He almost felt guilty for rejecting her so often. 

Almost. It still wasn't worth it and he wasn't going to be guilted into becoming Lupi. C didn't—wouldn't—want him to change just because he felt bad for her. If she did, she would have told him how much she was struggling. 

Speaking of which, he wasn't too happy she left him in the dark. He understood her motivations, but at the same time the secret left a bad taste in his mouth. They usually told each other everything, but what else was she hiding from him?

Was this how she felt every time he turned her down? Like he was building a wall or drawing a line in the sand. He could almost hear her say it. I'm not like you. It didn't usually bother him this much. 

He wasn't like her. That was the point. But he was her rock, wasn't he? Maybe not, now that he thought about it.

Damn, what a time for depressing thoughts—naked with his buddies in the shower.

Terry bit the tip of his tongue, trying to focus on getting Ben clean without hurting him. It really, really wasn't the time to think about C. 

And definitely not the time to release her from her heat room to ask for a hug. Not unless he wanted to get bitten, and he was still certain about staying human. 

He still really wanted that hug though. What day was it? He vaguely remembered throwing a tantrum almost two weeks ago and then getting dragged out of his bedroom by Kai a few days later. If she went in on the day he isolated himself, then he had three more days till he could get that hug. 

A gasp from Ben drew him out of his thoughts, and Terry realized he had the older boy's arm at a weird angle. "Sorry." Gently lowering it, he placed the soap back on the shelf and pulled the shower head down to rinse his seated friend off.

"Whachu thinkin' about?" Ben looked up at the younger boy in pure curiosity—a look Terry was very familiar with. The accent, however, was definitely something he had to get used to. He didn't remember such a drastic change when he reunited with Kai, but it seemed Ben picked up a significantly Californian tone. It was pretty similar to C’s American accent now that he thought about it, though her Russian origins occasionally slipped through the cracks.

"He's probably thinking about C and how he wants to huug and kiiis-" Kai was gagged with a soapy loofa to the mouth as Ben looked on, eyes widened in disbelief. 

"What was that about?" Morbid curiosity flickered dangerously in the eldest boy's eyes and Terry knew he'd be in for it if he didn't share. 

But he didn't want to share. How was he supposed to explain their relationship to her bond? It felt vaguely wrong, like they were cheating on him. They weren't, but trying to explain his Lupi behavior to a human when he wasn't Lupi…

Maybe he should take C up on her offer. Then again, if he was like this now, he'd be especially clingy once he was turned. She wasn't even his bond. 

Yeah, no. He'd add that to the list of "reasons to stay human". No need to wedge himself in between such a happy couple. He snorted in his thoughts, but declined to share his musings with the other two boys. Unfortunately, Ben’s curiosity wouldn’t let him rest. With a sigh, he decided to keep it simple, “C is my… person…? I guess that makes the most sense.” Describing her in one word felt almost sacrilegious, but calling her his everything might get a bit too weird especially following Kai’s mildly sexual comment. 

Ben’s eyes narrowed and sparked with something Terry found unfamiliar, but whatever it was, it nearly made his heart skip a beat. He never knew a wounded, malnourished human could be so intimidating, especially with his own nearly Lupus physique. He decided to expound before Ben tried to jump him. “She pulled me out of a pretty deep hole. I owe her a lot.” Kai began gurgling water and Terry sent a mildly annoyed look in his direction. “But I do not want to kiss her. That’s like kissing my sister.” 

To his relief the dark look in the eldest’s eyes faded and one of understanding took its place. He made a mental note to avoid touching C while her bond was around. It didn't feel like things would go well for him if Ben found them interacting as they usually did. 

"But why do you care so much?" Kai asked, finally recovering from the earlier attack. "C is fairly intimate with all the Lupi anyway. That's just how we are." 

“I thought Tae- Terry was human?” Ben’s questioning didn’t seem like it would let up any time soon, so Terry sat on the edge of the tub with a sigh. 

“When I first got here, I had some issues–” Kai’s snort was ignored with an eyeroll, “and C was the only one who would put up with me. A year or so went by and suddenly I was too human to be Lupi, but too Lupi to be human.” Terry shrugged. “At this point, I might as well make the switch, but it's just not worth it.” His eyes dulled, gaze falling out of focus, “If I change now, it feels like I'll lose what humanity I have left." Kai tensed and bit his lower lip, but the action was missed by Terry. 

The three boys fell into a contemplative silence as they toweled off and got dressed and Terry was left with his all too consuming thoughts. 

He didn't know if he had any humanity left. He couldn't even recall all the lives he took during the first few years of the apocalypse and, even though C never blamed him or mentioned it, he still felt like it would take centuries more to pay back his blood debt. Yet another point in C 's favor. Why was he still holding on to something so obviously useless? Why was this the hill he chose to die on? 

“You coming?” Kai’s voice drifted over and Terry looked up to meet his friends’ inquisitive stares. While he was lost in his mind, Kai had arranged Ben into the wheelchair, probably with all the elegance known to his kind. 

Terry sucked his front teeth for a second.

Damn, where’d that come from? Jealousy was never his thing before. Or maybe his emotions were just hard to regulate without C around? Should he just–? “Yeah I’m coming.” He looked down just to make sure he was dressed and dry. Luck was on his side today. 

He shook his head and followed his friends out the door. Being so dependent on one person was how he got into this mess. It’s getting mighty tempting though. As Terry followed his friends out the door towards, he briefly imagined the consequences of his actions and for the first time in five years, he didn’t dread it.

previous part next part

[wishing-well-writing]

!GEN PURE VANILLA COOKIE HCs!

Written by: 🍡, 🦷

Fandom: Cookie Run Series

Character(s): Pure Vanilla,

Warnings: Mentions of body horror

before we even start, this idiot trips on their stupid fucking cloak a lot

has very sharp teeth, like CRAZY sharp shark teeth

this applies to custard cookie too but since he’s still a growing lad it’s only little baby fangs

Also Custard is probably like, some distant distant DISTANT nephew or something to Vanilla?

Either that or everyone in the Vanilla Kingdom had sharp ass teeth

This probably includes Strawberry Crepe

after being pacifist for so long he wants blood (he’s always wanted blood, how do you think he got that sentient staff? :))

the entire gang (minus hollyberry because she’s himbo aligned) are all afraid of him, dark enchantress (former childhood and school friend) is still scared

he definitely killed someone for that staff

the whole “God is dead and I killed them (for this staff)” type beat

Said staff probably acts as a walking cane/seeing eye-cane for them

Vanilla’s vision is probably pretty ass or like fully blind lmao (same hat)

The staff can probably talk no I will not elaborate :)

how he went blind? the story always changes

it’s either “i traded my eyesight for my healing” or “i’ve always had ass eyesight”

no one knows which story is true

Mr man can “see” in the dark via either staff weirdness or like really REALLY good spacial awareness

Pov you’re White Lily during academy days and your roommate is making breakfast without turning the lights on

“Pure Vanilla, it’s almost five in the morning, what are you doing? And why are the lights off????”

“ “

“Wait the lights are off?”

“Y-”

“Yes?

And the rest is history lmao

Vanilla’s eyes probably glow or like cat shine or something

He’s the team cryptid in addition to being the team leader

Also he has some REALLY quiet steps

As in, “you won’t hear them coming even if you’re expecting them” quiet steps

Also this man PROBABLY has extra eyes or a mouth or something somewhere on his body I can feel it

moving away from general body horror and such i imagine he suffers from chronic headaches like the lot of us do

his most prevalent headache is dark enchantress, who he’d like to put in a chokehold and demand answers from

“You’re still my buddy pal but I’m going to kill you If You Don’t Explain Right Now.”

sometimes he has prophetic dreams that just scramble his brains like eggs

he probably knew something would happen to white lily

but definitely Not That

or maybe he did know but was in denial

and now he just wants answers and blood.

In short: he is the he/they short king apyr of the ancients gang

[hyperfixatingmenever]

Mystery of Love | Part 3/7 | 3K | Mature

Title: Mystery of Love

Fandom: Narcos 

Pairing: Javier Pena / Reader

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 3K

Warning: A touch of smut but mostly just implied. No real warnings this chapter is just going to hurt like a bitch lol

A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't update last month! School was so crazy and I just found this chapter so hard to write! So please forgive me, and I hope to get back to my original updating schedule! I love you all! Pls have this moodboard as an apology! Lol 

Everything in italics is a flashback. I'm too lazy to figure out how old Olivia is, so for this fic let's pretend she's old enough to talk, but young enough that she doesn't talk much, very monosyllabic lol. Also IMO ‘call me by your name’ is very problematic and overall terrible… but the chokehold this song has on me lol

Finally pls check out Nat’s amazing Fic Rec List (she added ‘Its Not Easy’ ❤) and message me if you want to be tagged in future updates!!!

Mystery of Love By Sufjan Stevens

Masterlist | Chapter 2 - Chapter 4 | Ao3

The morning came sooner than your foggy brain was ready for. The sun seeped through your curtains and eyelids, waking you up to a painful throbbed in your head. Slowly you realize the once lovely warm sun had now made your face hot and sticky. Eventually, rolling out of bed, you close the curtains completely and make your way to the kitchen, with your hand shielding your sensitive eyes. Arriving in the kitchen, you head to the fridge and grab a water bottle. You first take the cold water bottle and place it against your throbbing forehead, eventually opening and downing half of it with some painkillers. Leaning against the counter, you slowly survey your kitchen and living room; small things littered the table, counter and floor. After last night you were done with Javier and everything that reminded you of him, he had moved on, and it was time for you to do the same.

Slowly your brain eventually stopped throbbing, and you made your way back to your room and started to search the bottom of your closet. “Got it!” Tossing things aside, you pull out an old ratty gym bag with embroidery-stitched across the side, ‘Laredo Eagles.’ Seeing this crumpled-up duffle, you start to think about the first time you saw it.

Javi was stuck on some stakeout and wouldn’t be home for hours, but something about this one felt different. You know Javi’s job tended to be dangerous, but you had this unnerving feeling in your stomach that something wasn't right.

It started shortly after Javi called to tell you about the stakeout and told you to just go to bed and not wait up, but once he hung up, you knew there wasn't any chance you were falling asleep tonight. You tried to keep yourself busy, but at this point, you had cleaned your entire apartment twice and were running out of things to do. Eventually, you had a drink on the couch in hopes of calming your nerves. Your thoughts began to wander, ‘I hope he's okay? I hope he doesn't run in by himself? Gawd, I hope Steve’s got his back. What would I do if he didn't come home?’. While your mind wandered wildly, the sun had long since set, and the ice in your drink had melted. All without you realizing how much time had passed. The jingle of keys and the door opening and closing had no effect on you, but the heavy duffle bag being dropped on the floor was finally what woke you from your thoughts.

“Javi?”

“Jesucristo!” Jumped wasn't the right word, but Javi was definitely startled by the disembodied voice in the dark.

Walking over to a lamp, he turned it on, and both of you wince at the sudden bright light. You couldn't see his face, just his dark silhouette as he stood in front.

“What are you still doing up? I told you to go to bed.”

Standing up, you walk over to him. As you say, “I was worried about you.” you reach out to cup his cheek, but he flinches away. For a single second, you feel hurt that he pulled away from you, but as his face moves into the light, you see the start of a black eye, a busted lip and a cut on his forehead.

You give a small gasp. “What happened, Javi?” Stepping forward, you brush his dark curls away from the dried blood on his forehead and look him in the eyes. This time Javi makes no effort to try and move away from you; in fact, he steps forward and puts his face on your shoulder. After a few silent moments, Javi finally mumbles, “It's 4am. Why aren't you asleep?”

“Why am I still awake? Because I was worried about you stupid!”

This makes Javi chuckle slightly.

“What was your plan? Just come to bed and hope I don't notice the black eye in the morning?

Javi gave a weak shrug, with his face still rested on your shoulder.

“I was going to clean it first... then go to bed.”

Though his eyes were closed, you knew he could tell you were shaking your head disapprovingly and rolling your eyes.

“With what? I've got nothing that could help here, other than some pain killers?”

“I grabbed some stuff from the embassy. It’s in my duffle.”

After a deep breath, you very lightly push him off of you and head to the kitchen. Pulling out a kitchen chair, you tell Javi, “Grab your duffle and sit down.” With no argument from him, he heads back to the door, grabs the bag, places it on the kitchen table and sits down. Opening the bag, it smells powerfully like his cologne, but underneath, it still has a vague smell of a sweaty locker room. Looking around, you find the medical supplies loosely tossed in the bag and slowly set everything up on the table.

As you open an alcoholic swap, Javi starts to protest, “You don't have t-” but you quickly ‘hush’ him and give him a light kiss on the corner of his lips, making sure to avoid the busted part.

Eventually, you had everything cleaned and bandaged. As you looked over his face, you suddenly realized, “Oh and ice for your eye!”

Quickly you turn around towards the fridge, but suddenly you feel a grip around your wrist, and you're pulled the other way. Javi was now standing, and you were pressed against his chest. His lips were suddenly on yours and kissing you passionately. You let yourself initially melt into him before your brain suddenly pushes him away.

“Javi! I don't want to hurt you!”

Sitting back down on the chair, he pulls you onto him. Straddling him now, he starts to kiss up your neck, his scruff tickling you as he goes, his hands grab onto your ass, and with a deep growl, he replies, “You could never hurt me.”

Standing up, you try and shake off his phantom touch that travelled across your body.

Walking over to your dresser, you open the drawer that Javier swore he didn't need but was still full of his clothes. Carefully keeping each shirt and pair of pants folded, you gently place each in the duffle. After more than a dozen pieces of clothing, the process became automatic, leaving you to feel nearly numb to the soft shirt that used to give you so much comfort.

Javi walked into your apartment early one Saturday morning and flopped onto your couch, groaning loud enough for you to hear him from the kitchen. Peaking your head out, you see his hands rubbing his eyes in frustration as his head leaned back against the couch.

"What's wrong?"

Without opening his eyes or missing a beat, he starts yelling about something that happened in a meeting this morning. He spoke so quickly, and with such passion, he seamlessly switched between English and Spanish. You didn't know nearly as much Spanish as Javi, but you could tell his vocabulary was getting more colourful with each word.

Coffee mugs in both hands, you head to the living room, where Javi was still yelling. Carefully you place the coffee down, sit beside him and stretch your legs across his lap. And as seamlessly as his speech, his hands land on your legs and start to softly caress. It takes a minute for his brain to catch up with his hands, slowly his word slow, and lose passion. He finally opens his eyes and sees you in one of his shirts… without pants. Shifting your body slightly, you innocently move to show that pants aren't the only thing you're not wearing.

Javi’s eyes raked over you. “How is it that you look so much better in my clothes than I do?”

Giving him a quick smirk, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. As Javi starts to lean forward to kiss you and probably ravish your body, you hear the toaster pop, and you quickly stand up and head back to the kitchen. Watching you leave, Javi groans and dramatically slumps back against the couch.

Peeking into the living room, you see Javi’s eyes once again closed, and you think it's time to have some fun. Silently you pull his shirt off your body and toss it on his face. You turn away from him and saunter towards the bedroom, making sure Javi can see every single part of your body. Without turning around, you call out to him, “I think breakfast can wait.” Before you can even make it to the bedroom, you hear Javi jump off the couch and run after you, making you giggle in the process.

Slowly you pick up the last shirt in the drawer and bring it to your nose, smelling him one last time, before placing it with the rest.

Making your way to the bathroom, you see the counter split into two very casually domestic his vs hers sides, both cluttered with toothpastes, deodorants, perfume and cologne. Looking at it, you remember brushing your teeth together, Javi wrapping his arms around you when you applied makeup in the morning, you teasing Javi as he 'trimmed' his poor excuse for a beard. But as you finished clearing his side off, you turned towards the shower, and you can't help but be hit with another memory.

Breathlessly you feel yourself come back into your body. The freezing tiles pressed against your skin, are your only anchor to this world. You can hear Javi talking to you, but his voice feels miles away.

“Are you back, Hermosa? - That good, huh?”

You limply bat your hand at his chest, which only makes Javi’s deep laugh bounce and reverberates off the walls. As his laughter started to subside, you tried to stand up straight, but your limbs wobbled and betrayed you. Javi quickly reached out and grabbed you, pulling you into his body. “Come here.” Gently, Javi washed your hair and body as you leaned against him, still not trusting your wobbly limbs.

Slowly you feel yourself get closer and closer to normal. Lifting your head, you look up at Javi. His eyes fall on you as he continues to shampoo your hair, and he smirks.

“There she is. Chica bonita.”

Even though the shower was hot, you could still feel some heat rise to your cheeks, quickly you buried your face back into his chest to hide your reaction to the silly pet name.

“What we did would make anyone blush, but where you draw the line is ‘Chica Bonita? Interesting." You can feel him shaking his head in disbelief with a hint of laughter.

Feeling safe pressed against his chest, no matter the teasing, you breathed in the sudden floral scent surrounding you. Looking up once again, you see Javi washing his hair with your shampoo. Looking down at you, he cocks his eyebrow. “What? I couldn't reach mine without risking you falling over.”

A smile creeps onto your face as he continues to wash his hair and support your body with his. You nuzzle your face into his chest, trying to hide your growing smile. The idea that he would leave your apartment smelling like you ignited something almost primal in you. With a new sense of desire, you push off against Javi and passionately kiss him without even thinking. Thankfully your once jello-filled legs don't betray you, and you only pull away once you're breathless.

Javi practically begged for more once your lips left his, but mirroring his previously cocky attitude, you lazily stroked him a few times as you whispered in his ear “later.” Trying not to laugh, you promptly get out of the shower and leave Javi alone in what you can only assume to be mild distress.

Similar to the water, the memory and subsequent feelings washed over you, but now, instead, you only felt cold. Placing his few shower products in the bag, you leave and make your way to the living room. Your eyes lazily scan your living room, looking for anything of Javier's. You grab his iconic yellow-tinted glasses from the bookshelf and any other odds and ends that held any memory connected to Javier. Feeling satisfied with the living room, you turn around, only to find a tiny little orange octopus named Ollie.

"All I'm saying is Ollie the octopus. Isn't that original." Javi states as he shrugs and sarcastically rolls his eyes.

"She's just a baby, Javi!" Chuckling, as you bounce Olivia on your hip and tease her with 'kisses' from Ollie. The louder she squeals and squirms, the more you attack her with Ollie kisses.

"Well, It doesn't matter! I think that Ollie is a cute name! - Right, Olivia?" You remark over-enthusiastically.

Although she could talk, she only happily nodded her head, showing her agreement to her choice of name.

Javi shrugged his shoulders in defeat before starting to turn towards the kitchen. Though before he could, Olivia's arms were outstretched, doing her grabby hands at him.

Although Javi swore up and down he hated kids, and kids hated him, Olivia was the one outlier. Maybe it was the frequency he was over at the Murphys home, or maybe Olivia just had a soft spot for grumpy DEA agents, but whatever it was, Javi always tried to hide how much he loved her.

As if there was more than just you watching, Javi begrudgingly walked over and took Olivia (and Ollie) from your arms. Instantly she cuddled in, rested her head in the crook of his neck and started to quietly hum.

You had recently noticed her habit of humming into people’s necks as if she was a kitten purring in happiness. However, even with your best efforts (including your purchase of Ollie), you had not been bestowed the honour of her happy hum. The only people who held that honour were Connie, Steve… and Javi.

You loved that little girl, but you couldn't help but get a little jealous that Javi ‘I hate kids’ Pena and her had such a connection.

Trying to hide the hints of jealousy, you casually ask, “Do you know when the Murphys are getting home from their date?”

Turning from his mundane task, gently bouncing Olivia in his arms, he gazes almost through you, revealing why you're really answering, but then slyly asks, “Why, Jealous?”

Rolling your eyes at his very evident taunt, you try to show it had no effect on you, but eventually, you give in. “I'm just saying! I'M the one who bought her Ollie! Why doesn't she love me?”

Javi walks back to you and gives you a kiss on your forehead. Thinking Olivia had brought out a soft, comforting side of Javi today, you look up at him to only be met with a smirk you've seen countless times before.

“What can I say? I'm popular with the ladies.”

Shaken out of your memory, you hear your landline ringing. Your attention quickly moves from the soft octopus in your hand to the landline hanging on the wall. Although you were unsure who would be calling you this early in the morning, you answered tentatively.

"Hello?"

"Oh, thank God! You got home safe! I was so worried about you!"

"Amy?"

“Who else would be calling you this early on a Saturday morning?”

Silently you think and agree with her statement, giving small nods.

“Well, I'm happy you got home safe. I was kicking myself, worrying if something happened to you because I didn't leave with you. - Remind me not to take club recommendations from people at work.”

You could practically hear Amy's eye roll from the other side of the phone.

Though it was early it was nice to finally have a friend to talk to and get out of your own head. You didn't know how to keep Amy on the phone, so you blurted out the first question that came to mind. “Who recommended the club?”

“Oh, one of the other office girls. What's her name?” You could hear Amy snapping her fingers, trying to remember the mystery woman's name. “She's always got those long bright red nails?”

You run through all the desks in your brain trying to remember red nails clicking on a keyboard, and after a few beats, you land on a desk. “Janice?”

“Janice! Yep, that's it! She heard us talking about going out, and she recommended Atmósfera, saying she and her boyfriend always go there.”

“Well, I guess we'll know for next time.” You chuckled lightly.

“Next time?” Her question was filled with more excitement and anticipation than actual curiosity.

“Yes, next time.”

Amy gave out a loud squeal that was so loud you had to pull the receiver away from your ear in hopes of keeping any of your hearing. When Amy first invited you out, you didn't think you were ready. Ready for partying, friends, to move on, but today’s a new day, and you're ready!

Finishing what you can only assume to be dancing, Amy returned to the phone and asked if you wanted to go for breakfast and spend Saturday together. Most Saturdays before, you would have spent it with Javi, but you weren't going to let this new friendship go so easily. After some further discussion, the two of you decide that she will pick you up in an hour. Realizing you had continued to talk in your designated hour to get ready, you both eventually hang up, and you quickly head to your room to get dressed.

Standing at your front door, with the duffle bag over your shoulder, ready for breakfast, you look at your now cleansed apartment and feel lighter, no longer suffocating in the man you once loved.

It had been weeks since you had walked down the hall towards Javier's apartment. As you walked it started to feel like the hallway was never-ending, but eventually, you arrived at his door and knocked. Instinctively you can tell the footstep coming toward you are his. As the steps got closer, you carelessly dropped his bag with his keys on top, turned your back towards his door and made your way to Amy, who should be waiting outside. As you walked away, you heard his door open, yesterday you would have turned back to catch even a glimpse of Javier, but today, that didn't matter. He didn't matter. Not anymore.

Tags: @louderrthanthunderr @mishasminion360 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @almaeunice @athalien @kirsteng42 @bxxbxy @hallway5​

[nakachuchu]

Bunny | Armin Arlert

SYNOPSIS: Modern AU - He has a crush on his friend's crush.

READER: female

WORDS: 1556

WRITTEN: 03/08/2021

"Hey, Armin," you greeted as you leaned down, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"H-Hi, Y/N," he replied, eyes glancing to the textbook pressed against your chest and your pretty smile.

"Can I sit next to you again? You're a lifesaver when it comes to taking notes."

"Oh, yeah, definitely," he said as he scooted to the side, allowing you to sit next to him in the lecture hall.

You often sat next to Armin because he had good handwriting and his notes were easy to understand.

You often blanked out, thus missing part of what the professor said. He once asked what you were thinking about, and you winked at him before making a zipper gesture on your mouth.

It was always a struggle when you asked to sit next to him. He had to fight himself to pay attention to the professor and ignore the little devil on his shoulder who kept telling him dirty thoughts about you.

If you didn't sit next to him, he wouldn't have to worry about how good his notes were because you wouldn't need them.

It wasn't like you didn't take notes. You simply got distracted sometimes. You would be taking notes, and the next time Armin decided to glance at you, the end of your pen would be in your mouth, tongue swiping at it mindlessly.

Armin was in constant trouble whenever you were around. You were pretty on your own, but the way your teeth nibbled on the cap and how soft your tongue looked made his brain short circuit.

It was the second year you had the same class with Armin, and he didn't know if he wanted to be thankful or not.

The first encounter he had with you was on moving day. He dropped his pink pen that had a bunny as the clicker. It was given to him by his mother who had been sobbing when he left for college.

You picked up the pen and called out to him. He was absolutely embarrassed and dizzy that someone saw the pen, let alone a pretty girl picking it up for him.

You laughed at how red he was and stepped forward to put the pen back into his front pocket, patting his chest before waving goodbye and walking away.

"Armin," you called out, "class is over, bunny."

God, the nickname you gave him always made his body hot. It was a simple, shameless nickname. It was obviously from the pen he dropped, but he couldn't help but fantasize that something deeper was in the works.

"R-Right. Thanks, Y/N."

You smiled. "Of course. Text me your notes later?"

He nodded.

"Great. I'll see you around. Make sure to eat lunch."

He nodded. "You too."

Once you left the room, he sighed and banged his head onto the desk. Even your kindness in reminding him to eat made him like you even more.

He eventually packed up his stuff, walking to the same table outside the lecture hall that his friends claimed since the first day of school.

"How'd it go?" Eren asked.

He knew about Armin's crush on you, but the question was easily hid as "How was the lecture?"

"It was good," Armin replied, which translated to "I made a fool out of myself again."

"Did you see Y/N? What was she wearing today?" Jean asked.

"Uh—You know, the same," Armin said with a wince.

Jean sighed wistfully. "She's so damn beautiful."

"She'd never go for you," said Eren with a glance at Armin.

"Huh? You wanna fucking fight? We'll go at it right now!"

"HUH? Did you say something, twerp?" Eren retorted, standing up from the table to slam his foot onto the bench.

"HUH? You're shorter than me, you fucking midget," retorted Jean as he got into the same position as Eren.

The two boys began to fight as Armin awkwardly laughed and sat down. He was royally fucked. What was he supposed to do when Jean seemed so smitten with you?

"I'm gonna do it," said Jean as he let Eren out of the chokehold.

Eren gasped for air, then punched Jean on the shoulder. "Do...what?"

"Ask Y/N out," he said as he walked off.

Armin followed the direction he was walking in, then saw you crossing the lawn with one of your friends. His shoulders slumped as he realized he wouldn't ever be able to date you.

Eren and Mikasa glanced at each other before glancing at Armin who was watching the exchange between you and Jean.

You whispered something to your friend as Jean began to talk. You stood there with a smile on your face and occasionally nodded at whatever he was saying.

"I—Um—I'm gonna go back to my dorm. I have studying to do," murmured Armin as he grabbed his bag and walked away.

You laughed at something Jean said before nodding and waving goodbye to him. He walked back and sighed heavily as he sat on the bench.

"What happened?" Connie asked.

"She likes someone else, but hey, she called me cute. That accounts for something, right?"

"Do you think—"

Mikasa nodded at what Eren was implying.

Jean looked between them. "What?"

"You see—"

"Hey, if that dumb ass can ask you out, you can ask Armin out," your friend encouraged.

"Me? I don't have the guts for that," you said.

"No, but you got the tits and that disgusting kindness going for you."

You rolled your eyes. "None of that is true. Besides, I don't know where he is."

"Call him."

"I'm not going to ask him out through tech. It's not sincere," you muttered.

"So you need to do it in person? I got you."

"W-Wait, where are you going? Come back!" you shouted as your friend ran out of your room.

You sighed, a dreadful feeling settling in your stomach. You chewed your lip nervously as you turned to your notes to study, trying to ignore your fantasies of dating Armin.

You put your earbuds in, turning up the volume so that you wouldn't have to think. You drummed your pencil on your desk while reading the notes you took, even though you knew the information wasn't staying in your brain.

You let out a shriek when someone yanked your earbuds out. You spun around in your chair, ready to smack someone until you noticed Armin standing by your door nervously.

Your friend stood in front of you and smiled. "Good luck," they whispered before walking out and closing the door.

"Armin," you breathed out.

He raised his hand slightly before folding them together in front of him again. "Hi. Um—Your friend said you needed to talk to me?"

You nodded, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you come out here. My friend is impulsive."

"It's okay," he reassured. "But isn't it bad if someone notices us alone in your room? What if Jean hears?"

You tilted your head to the side. "What about him?"

"Well, aren't you—aren't you two dating?"

You blinked before laughing. "We're not dating. I don't like him. I like you."

"Oh, I see. You don't like—You like me?" he repeated.

You smiled. "Yeah, I do. I really, really like you."

"Oh. Oh, this is—Oh, I never thought—" His face went red and his mind was playing fantasies of you again. "I—Uh—I didn't think you'd ever like me. I've liked you for a while now and I mean, you're so pretty, and I'm me."

"I like you, bunny," you reassured. "I like that you're you."

"I've never—I've never had a girlfriend."

"That's okay. It doesn't matter. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" you asked.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. His shoulders slumped after a moment. "But I would be a bad friend if I did that. Jean's liked you for a while and I can't betray him like that."

You smiled softly. "I understand. That's—"

The door burst open, hitting Armin in the back and sending him flying forward. You got up from your chair and wrapped your arms around him so that he wouldn't fall.

Armin was dizzy. His face was shoved into your breasts and all he could smell was you. Your arms were wrapped around him for safety and his hands were dangerously close to your ass.

You looked up to see Armin's friends crowding your door. They were all breathing heavily.

"Say yes!" exclaimed Jean. "Why didn't you tell me you liked her? I just thought she was hot!"

Armin said something, but it was muffled by your breasts. You wiggled around at how ticklish it felt, before helping him move away.

He blinked at you before slowly looking up at you. His face was incredibly hot and he couldn't think straight.

"Armin?" you called out.

Oh, your voice was so pretty.

"Armin, are you okay?" you asked.

"Huh? Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Um—I—Yes?"

"Yes?" you repeated.

"I want to be your boyfriend," he said. "Is that okay?"

You smiled. "It's more than okay," you said.

"Thank God," muttered Eren as he turned around with a hand latched onto Jean's collar. "Team, roll out!"

Mikasa followed him silently, dragging Sasha and Connie with her.

"What should the first thing we do as a couple be, bunny?" you asked.

"Um... Food?"

You smiled. "Sounds good."

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes

word count: 4014

Chapters: 1 2 3

Chapter 4

The weirdest thing is that a few months ago, Dove wouldn’t think that listening to kids running and playing would sound as sweet as it did.

A small chuckle escaped her as she sat on the steps leading into Dale’s RV. The horrified look on Glenn’s face as he stopped mid-greeting was just as amusing.

“Well. Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Dove squinted as she stood up and moved to stand next to him.

“When did they start tearing it apart,” Glenn frowned as he folded his arms in front of his chest.

Dove shrugged her shoulders, “’Bout a half an hour ago, I suppose.” She ran a hand through her dark hair as she turned her head slightly. Rick was finally awake again. Dove raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she greeted the newcomer. “Mornin’, Rick!”

“Go on! Tear it apart, you vultures.” Glenn scowled and shook his head. Dove couldn’t keep herself from letting out a snort of laughter.

“Generators need every drop of fuel they can get,” Dale stated matter-of-factly as he walked past them.

“He has a fair point. I’d rather have a shower than a fancy car,” Dove mumbled quietly.

“I thought I’d get to drive it another few days,” Glenn sighed.

Dove turned her head slightly as Rick responded, “Maybe we’ll get to steal another one someday.”

This new way of living sure was a hell of a thing when you had a sheriff encouraging grand theft auto.

Dove placed a comforting hand on Glenn’s shoulder, “Maybe an even nicer one! One that’s not going to send an alarm running for miles next time too.” Glenn just let out an annoyed sigh.

Glenn seemed to be resigned to the fact that his car was being torn apart by Jim. Dove patted his shoulder again as she watched him step forward to converse with the other man. Knowing him, he was still probably trying to talk about what a cool car it was to anyone who would listen.

A revving engine caught the attention of a few members of the camp as Shane pulled up. He announced, “Make sure to boil the water before use.”

Carol made her way over to Dove. “Too bad about Glenn’s car, huh?”

The response caught in Dove’s throat as a shrill scream erupted from the woods close by, followed by another voice screaming “Mom!!”

A panicked look was exchanged between the sisters for a moment and then they were both off. Carol screamed for Sophia and the relief was obvious on Dove’s face as the little girl broke through the trees with Carl hot on her heels.

Tiny arms wrapped themselves around her waist as Dove knelt quickly to survey her niece for any marks. “Are you alright, Soph? Nothing bit you?” Sophia shook her head quickly, only able to muster up a panicked whimper. Carol finally broke through the trees behind her and let out a relieved cry as Sophia released her aunt with a cry of, “Mommy!!”

Dove glanced around quickly before she pointed back towards camp. “Take them back now! I’m just gonna make sure everything’s alright!” Carol nodded her head and scooped Sophia up.

Lori, however, eyed her warily for a moment before the brunette disappeared into the tree line again.

As she broke through the trees she held back a hysterical laugh. They were just stood around the damn thing, beating it with sticks. So much for being evolved past a caveman brain.

Amy let out a disgusted groan as the walkers head was finally chopped off.

Dale muttered, “That’s the first one we’ve had out here.”

Jim replied, “They must be running out of food in the city.”

Dove looked over at Amy and Andrea. Both of the sisters were just looking on like a couple of deer in the headlights and she couldn’t blame them. She felt a little nauseous herself.

Branches snapped in the woods and all conversation stopped. Andrea put a protective arm around Amy and Dove took a slow step forward towards the men. Curiosity was a bitch of a thing, but she wanted to see what exactly was going to happen.

Her heart leapt into her throat and plummeted back to her stomach as Daryl Dixon came into view. Her eyes locked with Jim’s in a moment of panic before she quickly looked down at her feet. Honestly, she would rather have a walker run out of the woods right now than have to face the inevitable.

Daryl looked pissed already. Definitely a good sign for them. “That was my deer. Look at it! All gnawed on by this filthy, disease ridden, motherless, proxy bastard!”

Dale shook his head in disgust, “Now come on, son. That’s not helping anyone.”

Daryl’s temper flared up again as he stepped quickly over the walker, headed right for Dale. Dove took a quick step closer to Rick as she eyed the officer, trying to communicate that this was not a good sign. “What do you know about it, old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to ‘on golden pond’?”

A surprised laugh, which was able to be quickly covered up as a cough escaped Dove’s lips. Glenn elbowed her slightly in the side and narrowed his eyes once he had her attention. The woman merely shrugged as she turned her attention back to the dead animal. Her stomach did begin to rumble at the thought of venison, or anything other than squirrels for that matter. A sigh left her lips as Shane stated, “I wouldn’t risk that.”

Daryl’s focus drifted to her, almost asking for another opinion. Dove shrugged her shoulders before she slipped her hands into her back pockets, “As good as it sounds, it’s too risky. We got kids to think about and what if they eat tainted meat? Get sick?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head, “Damn shame. I got a few squirrels though. ‘Bout a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.” The calmness in the air broke as the walker head at her feet started snapping its jaw again. Dove let out a startled shriek and stumbled back into Glenn as Daryl shot an arrow into it’s brain. “Gotta be the brain. Don’t ya’ know nothin?”

The focus of the group shifted again as Daryl stalked off towards camp. Dale looked startled, “I don’t see this going well.”

Shane removed the hat from his head as the group started to walk, Dove started to take longer strides to keep up with the two officers. She heard Shane mention Daryl’s name and spoke up.

“I think you guys really need to think about doing this,” Dove spoke, concern in her voice. “I think you oughta try and break it to him as gently as possible. People like him tend to react violently, plus he seems pretty hyped up from losing that deer.”

The two men kept moving, but Rick glanced over his shoulder at her. “What’d you do before this?”

“I was a therapist. Getting ready to work on my PhD. Why?”

She didn’t miss the look the two men exchanged and fell back a step. Glenn flinched as he heard Daryl yell for Merle. “This is gonna be a shit show,” Glenn sighed.

Dove shook her head as Shane stopped Daryl in his tracks. “Poor guy. I got money on Dixon, though. He’s a scrapper.” She whispered so only Glenn could hear. Glenn let out a nervous chuckle as the two of them came to a stop next to the Jeep.

“There was a problem in Atlanta.” Seriously, Dove thought, he’s going to drag it out like this? What a mess.

“He dead?” Dove gripped Glenn’s wrist a little tighter than she meant to as she took a step closer to him.

“We’re not sure.”

“He either is or he ain’t!” Dove couldn’t really blame him for being so angry. She could only imagine how mad she would be if it were Carol on that roof. She would probably be trying to kick the ass of anyone she could find.

“No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it,” Rick stated as he finally took a step forward. What a time to play good cop, bad cop.

Rick introduced himself, only to be met with, “Rick Grimes, you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal,” Rick finished. Damn, she had to admire how he got right to the point about it. “He’s still there.”

Daryl started pacing like a caged animal. “Hold on. Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?” Daryl shouted. Dove could feel her pulse quickening as a million and one ways that she was trained to de-escalate someone this angry ran through her head. None of them seemed to make any sense right now under the heat from the burning Atlanta sun.

The next few seconds were a blur. Daryl yelled, Dove let out a startled yelp as the squirrels flew towards her, she stepped back closer to Glenn, and just like that, Daryl was on the ground. T-Dog stepped forward, shouting something about a knife. Dove took a few slow steps forward, eyes wide as saucers as she watched Shane bring him down in a chokehold after a few swings of a knife.

“Chokeholds illegal,” Daryl managed to choke out.

Shane sounded too comfortable with it for Dove’s liking. “Yeah, well, file a complaint.” Dove argued with herself internally as she watched Daryl keep struggling to be let go.

Rick knelt in front of the other two men, clearly trying to calm the situation down. “I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic.”

Dove scowled as she squatted down between the two officers. “Not to tell you how to do your job, but it’s awful hard to have a calm discussion with a man whose air supply is being cut off,” she finished through gritted teeth.

 Rick glanced at her and nodded before he turned back to Daryl, “You think we can manage that?”

The two officers nodded at each other and Dove stood up quickly as Daryl finally got released. She watched for a moment, still in shock about what just happened, when she saw Daryl still trying to catch his breath as he pointed at Shane. Dove turned quickly and placed a hand on Shane’s arm. “Just back up, man. Rick’s got it. You don’t need to be bad cop right now,” she pushed him back gently before she walked past the other two men, joining Lori by the steps to the RV.

“You good,” the other woman asked, her eyes not leaving the scene in front of her.

“Yeah just adrenaline rush. I’m fine,” Dove nodded as she brushed her hair out of her eyes. She turned her head slightly and met Carol’s worried gaze through the window of the RV. Dove held her hand up and nodded her head.

“It’s not Rick’s fault,” T-Dog interjected and suddenly the focus was on him. “I had the key. I dropped it.”

Daryl snapped again, “You couldn’t pick it up?”

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.” Dove couldn’t help but roll her eyes at this. This just sounded worse and worse the more they tried to explain it to him. At least no one was dead yet.

Her heart sank as she folded her arms in front of her chest, her focus shifted with everyone else’s as the men moved slowly around camp. She knew that Daryl and his brother were close but, shit. She didn’t expect to see him cry for even a second. One of her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she looked down at her feet.

She wasn’t surprised when Daryl shouted. “Hell with all y’all. Just tell me where he is so’s I can go get em.”

What truly shocked her was Lori. The older woman spoke up from her spot by the door at this. “He’ll show you. Won’t you?” She almost insisted with just her words as she locked eyes with her husband.

Dove was torn between following Lori back into the RV or following after Rick as the conflict came to a close. She, instead, chose to check on Carol and Sophia. Her steps were quiet as she walked up the steps to the RV. Dove slid into the seat at the table opposite of her family and reached a hand out to stroke Sophia’s arm. “Hey, bug. You were real brave out there today,” Dove spoke softly as Sophia lifted her head from her mother’s arms.

Sophia sniffled and rubbed her eyes before she looked between the two sisters. “I was really scared,” the young girl whispered.

Dove smiled a little and nodded her head. “I was too, bug. But you did the right thing by runnin like that. Hell, I don’t think either of us knew you could run that fast!” Carol chuckled softly at this as she stroked the young girl’s hair.

“She’s right, Sophia. You kept yourself safe. That was the right thing to do.” Carol kissed the top of her daughter’s forehead before she whispered for her to do something that sounded a lot like ‘go check on Carl’.

Dove drummed her fingers on the table as her thoughts raced through her head. Carol’s voice finally pulled her out of her own head. “You want to go with them, don’t you.” Carol stated in a hushed voice.

Dove’s eyes shot up. Her hazel eyes widened a little bit as she felt color rush to her cheeks. “I…I was thinking about it.”

Carol clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I don’t want my sister out there dyin’ for someone like Merle Dixon.” Her voice didn’t raise above a whisper, though she didn’t sound pleased at all.

Dove rolled her eyes at this. “That’s not what I was thinking of!”

“Then what were you…”

Dove cut her older sister off as she reached out and took her hand, “What if that was me up there, huh? Or you? Would you want me to just leave you up there like that to die?” Dove hissed. “It’s the right thing to do, Carol. Merle or not, it’s the right thing to do.”

Carol’s eyes widened slightly as she took in her sister’s words and nodded her head slowly. “If that’s what you want to do, I can’t stop you. But I just want you to be careful. I don’t want to be explaining to Sophia why her aunt isn’t around anymore.”

A small smirk graced Dove’s face as she squeezed Carol’s hand gently. “Oh please. I’m always careful.”

It was Carol’s turn to roll her eyes as Dove rose from her seat, kissed her older sister on the top of her head, and descended the stairs out of the RV.

Dove looked around camp before spotting Daryl by the fire. She took a long deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth before trudging forward. “Hey, you alright?” Dumb question.

“What kinda stupid question is that,” Daryl snapped at her.

Dove raised both her hands in front of her, a tired expression on her face. “Right. Guess I deserved that, it was pretty fucking stupid huh.”

Daryl just stared at her for a moment. He had the type of eyes that made her uneasy sometimes; eyes that could stare right into your soul if you’d let them. “What do you want?”

Dove let out a heavy sigh as she watched Carol approach her laundry station out of the corner of her eye. She stood up a little straighter and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I wanna go with you and Rick. Try to bring back Merle. I figure the more people, the better. Plus, y’all might need someone to balance out all the testosterone in that car.”

Daryl stared at her again for a few seconds before scoffing at her. “Don’t need no one else out there, especially not you. Can you even shoot a gun?”

Dove grinded her teeth together as she nodded her head slowly. “Well, excuse me. I may not know how to shoot a gun but I am just as capable as Andrea and Jacqui and they go out into the city all the time! Give me a blunt object and I can take out any walker just as good as a gun, I bet.” Her hands were shaking as she unfolded her arms and shoved her hands in her pockets.

“Alright.” Daryl turned his attention from her.

Dove’s jaw almost dropped in shock as she stood still. “Excuse me?”

Daryl turned back to face her, eyes narrowed slightly. “You heard me, girl. You’re grown, you wanna go? Can’t stop ya. Just don’t expect to get your ass saved.”

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t,” a serene smile was on Dove’s face now.

Shane would definitely have to learn to hold his tongue if they were going to bring Merle back as he called Merle a “douchebag”.

Daryl pointed at the man, “Hey, you better watch what you say!”

Shane nodded his head all sincerely before uttering, “No no. Douchebag’s what I meant.”

Dove rolled her eyes and brought the palms of her hands up to rub her eyes, “Dear god what did I do to deserve this.”

Lori spoke up from her seat by what would be that night’s fire. “So what? You and Daryl, that’s your big plan?”

Carol eyed Dove for a moment before the group’s attention shifted to Glenn. “Oh come on!”

Rick spoke, “You know the way. You’ve been there before. In and out, no problem! You said so yourself.” He was right. Glenn wasn’t shy about telling everyone in the group how well he knew the city and he had dug his own grace.

“That’s just great. Now you’re gonna risk three men?” Shane scoffed.

T-Dog spoke up next, “Four.”

Daryl scoffed, “My day just gets better and better, don’t it?”

Dove rolled her eyes, “Might as well get this out of the way now and make it five.”

Dale glanced between them all and nodded his head. “That’s five.”

Shane shook his head and began to pace a little bit. “You’re putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. C’mon. You saw that walker! It was here. It was in camp,” Shane lectured. “They come back, we need every able body we’ve got. We need em to protect camp.”

Rick nodded his head, “Sounds to me like what you need is more guns.”

Dove’s head was spinning. Sophia shuffled her feet as Dove walked over to them. She knelt in front of the girl, taking her hands in her as the others talked about the guns. “Now you listen to me, alright? I’m gonna be just fine! I promise. I always am. But I need you to promise me something too okay?”

Sophia nodded her head and listened intently. “I need you to look out for your mama until I get back, okay? Just make sure everything’s alright. Hold down the fort for me. Promise?” She released Sophia’s hands and held a pinky out to her.

Sophia locked her pinky with her aunt’s before she wrapped her arms around her neck in a hug. “Be safe.”

Dove kissed her niece on the forehead before standing up and brushing off her knees. “Be safe, Carol.” Dove hugged her sister tightly before she turned to see what was going on.

Dove lifted herself into the back of the van, her eyes were beginning to glaze over from boredom as she waited before she almost leapt out of her skin at the sound of a horn honking. From the driver’s seat, Glenn let out a startled shout as Daryl stepped on the horn again. “C’mon let’s go!”

Dove rubbed her temples and muttered to herself before placing a hand on the crowbar that she’d managed to sweet talk out of Jim. She would definitely have to make sure that she made it back now.

The young woman blew a kiss to her family as the door to the back of the van was slammed shut and they pulled away.

~

It was oddly silent on the way to the city. Dove positioned herself so she could see out the front windshield. “This is the first time I’ve left camp in the past two months.” She whispered to Glenn and Rick.

Rick turned his head, a sympathetic look on his face. “You might not want to look until we get there, then. Might be a bit of a shock. Trust me on that one.”

Dove took in the man’s words for a moment before she turned and faced the back of the van again.

Daryl finally spoke up for the first time since they started on the road. “He best be alright.”

T-Dog sighed. “The only thing that’s getting through that door is us. He’s fine.”

The van finally lurched to a stop and Glenn called back, “We walk from here.”

Dove groaned as she pulled herself to her feet and hopped out of the back of the van. “Oh shit, I’m getting old.” She mumbled to T-Dog as he hopped down next to her.

T-Dog shook his head at her. “You’re getting old? Just wait ‘til you hit 30.”

Dove laughed quietly as she took off down the train tracks after the rest of the group.

Rick paused as they stepped through a space in the gate that led from the tracks to the road. “Merle first or guns?”

Daryl snapped. “Merle! We ain’t even havin this conversation.”

Dove shook her head and motioned towards Daryl with her free hand, the other still tightly gripping the crowbar. “I’m with him on this. I mean a human life or ammo?”

Rick stared at both of them, clearly trying to keep his cool “We are having this conversation. You know the geography, it’s your call.” He turned to Glenn as the group began to walk.

“Merle’s closest. The guns would mean doubling back.” Glenn stated and Dove wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, but she was grateful for that nonetheless.

Her hazel eyes seemed to take in everything that had happened to Atlanta as they walked through the city. The city she had worked in and know so well was practically gone in a matter of weeks. It made her chest feel tight to see everything, but she knew she couldn’t stop moving.

She stepped lightly into the department store behind T-Dog and in front of Glenn as she went. She stopped, crowbar raised as a walker made it’s way through the aisles of the store. Daryl didn’t waste any time shooting the thing through the head.

Glenn moved forward and directed them to a staircase. It was a lot farther up than it looked, or maybe she was out of shape, but the steps were seeming to take their toll on her as they worked their way towards the roof.

The men reached the last landing as Dove rounded the corner just a few steps behind them. She took the last few steps slowly as she watched Daryl kick the door open after the chain was finally cut.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. She observed as she ran up the last few steps out onto the roof with the others. Merles Dixon was not a quiet man and he surely would’ve reacted to a door being kicked the fuck open.

Daryl’s screams for his brother turned into screams of panic. Dove’s heart dropped as she stepped out onto the roof behind Glenn and she saw it. A hand flew up to cover her mouth as she fought back the urge to vomit. Merle’s hand laid there on the ground next to a bloody hacksaw but Merle Dixon the man was gone.

-

@crossbowking​

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

in too deep (part 3)- jules

jules x reader

warnings: language, anxiety, creepiness, some violence, homophobia, overall just weird vibes (if you’ve seen the movie you know what i’m talking about)

TW: MENTIONS OF NON-CON (please don’t read if you’re triggered by this!! this was the bit of the story i had to change for the story to make sense since i swapped mickey’s gender. it doesn’t actually happen, but if the threat triggers you, do NOT READ!!!)

notes: i’m gonna try and keep this one shorter bc writing long chapters stresses me out

also! i’m writing this based on a pdf of the original script for the movie, so some dialogue may be different, or it may be my own creation because believe it or not, there are times that i do in fact possess creativity!!

you woke up with a jolt, dreams of the strangest variety plaguing your subconscious. you reached up to touch your pounding head- well, at least you would’ve if it wasn’t restrained. 

  “what the hell?” you tugged on the handcuffs, quickly realizing your legs were tied down, too, rendering you completely immobile. upon discovering this, you began to panic, breaking out in a cold sweat as you called out for your security blanket. “jules! jules!” 

  “she’s not gonna hear you. she’s down in the basement with sweetiepie.” gloria said calmly as she entered the room. 

not impressed with her answer, you questioned her. “what are you gonna do to her?” 

  “my, my. you asked about her safety before even questioning yours! the bond the two of you share must be stronger than i thought.” she mused, looking down at your panicked expression. “your belle is safe and sound, don’t worry. but if you want to see her again, you’re going to have to cooperate.”

  “cooperate? what the fuck are you gonna do to me?” you wrenched at your restraints, your heart rate beginning to pick up sufficiently. you depended on jules more than any other person in your life, and without her, you began to quickly unravel. 

  “just sit tight, all will be revealed soon enough.” gloria stated with an eerie smile. you hated how calm she was, it made you feel like she knew something you didn’t. “would you like to see some photos of my son?”

was she serious? look at some photos of her son? all you wanted was their car! how did you end up in this mess? the sudden aggravation caused you to lose your composure. 

  “no, i don’t wanna see any pictures of your fucking son! i wanna get my girlfriend and that fucking kid and get the fuck out of here!” you screamed. “i wanna get the fuck away from you and your crazy ass husband! i wa-” your sudden outburst was cut off by a firm slap, giving you little time to react before gloria had you in a chokehold.

  “you keep your damn mouth shut! you won’t refer to anyone in this family like that under my roof!” you spat in her face, taking in a wheezing breath as she let go of you to wipe her face. her sudden anger morphed into what you assumed was her signature brand of unnerving calmness. 

  “you wanted to know what i’m going to do to you? i’ll tell you.” she smiled creepily. “you see, george and i have wanted our own children for the longest time, but that’s just not what the good lord had planned for us. so think of yourself as a vessel for us. an oven for our bun, if you will.”

your jaw dropped, the color in your face draining as your eyes widened in shock. “fuck! what the fuck? that’s so fucking fucked up! you’re not gonna fucking touch me, you bitch!” you couldn’t catch your breath, your chest heaving with every intake of air. 

gloria got up to leave, her long skirt spinning with a flourish as she made her way to the bedroom door. “d-don’t f-fucking leave,” you wheezed as she exited the room, slamming the door behind her.

  “jules!” you shouted. “jules, please fucking help me,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes in defeat.

-------------------------------

time ticked by slowly, your arms and shoulders starting to ache as they were held in the same position. you tried to reposition them to get some relief, but none came. 

suddenly, you heard the door click open, your eyes flitting up hopefully. gloria entered with a grin on her painted lips, making her way towards you. 

while you were in the room by yourself, you had used the time wisely to come up with what would hopefully be a successful escape plan. you looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes. “gloria, can we talk?” 

  “absolutely. what’s on your mind?” it was creepy how quickly she seemed to get over your defiance from earlier, but you pushed the thought from your mind. 

  “well, honestly, your proposal.” you began. “i know how i acted the other day was totally uncalled for, and i’ve reconsidered.”

  “well, you didn’t really have much of a choice, sweetheart, but i’m glad you feel that way.” she stroked a hand over your stomach, making you feel physically sick. “is there anything else?”

  “yeah, there is. can we start now? i wanna start these happy nine months as soon as i can.” you faked a smile, the words coming out of your mouth churning your insides. 

  “well yes, i guess that could be arranged,” she moved to get up and you panicked, your plan quickly setting out of motion. 

  “wait!” you exclaimed. “can you uncuff me? i don’t think it would really be enjoyable if i was tied down like i am now.”

she looked skeptical, but sat down next to you anyways. “give me one good reason you wouldn’t be trying to escape as soon as i untied you.”

  “well, i’ve had a change of heart.” no i haven’t. “i’ve considered it, and i think you’re right.” no you’re not. “i think this experience would be really beneficial to me,” no it wouldn’t. “especially if i wasn’t chained to the bed the whole time.” definitely not.

  “it seems that you’ve really put some thought into this, i’m very proud of you.” gloria crooned. she sat on the side of the mattress, working on uncuffing your hands from the bedposts. as soon as both your hands were free, you took a tight grip of her hair and used your body weight to launch her off of you and onto the floor. she cried out, clutching her head as you worked at the ropes around your ankles. 

  “you psycho fucking bitch!” you cursed at her. “i’m getting my girlfriend and that fucking kid and we’re getting the fuck out of here!” once your legs were finally free, you took off, running down the stairs as the damsel called out for her husband. 

you raced towards the door, prying at the handle, when a gunshot goes off right next to your head. you jumped in fear, raising your hands in defense to see george at the top of the staircase, wielding your pistol. 

  “exactly what in the hell do you think you’re doing? get your ass up here!” he shouted, waving the weapon threateningly. when you stood frozen in your tracks, he spoke again. “i’m a crack shot, kid. i missed you on purpose that time. now get on up here.” 

you grudgingly headed up the stairs, keeping your wide eyes facing straight ahead. you heard gloria sobbing in the other room, sounding as distraught as ever, and you knew you were in for it. “who the hell raised you like that? you of all people making a woman cry like that.”

  “i’d blow your brains out if i thought you had any,” george sighed. “well, i’ll tell you one thing; you’re a bit too spry for my liking.” 

suddenly, he pulled the trigger, and the bullet ripped through the meat of your thigh. you screamed in agony, clutching the wound as you cried out. “fuck! what the fuck? you just fucking shot me!”

he acted like it was nothing, simply tossing a towel at you to stop the bleeding. “quit your whinin’, ya sally. we’ll get you bandaged up.”

----------------------------

  “don’t make me put another bullet in ‘ya. just behave, goddammit!” george growled as he dragged you down the basement stairs. through your hazy vision, you were able to make out jules handcuffed to a pole not too far away from the girl. he drops you to the floor, yanking your hands behind your back and cuffing them next to jules’. 

  “y/n!” jules called out, a happy yet worried smile making its way onto her lips. her gaze landed on your leg, her eyes widening when she saw the bloody wrappings. “oh my god! you motherfucker, what did you do to her?”

  “what are you blind? i shot her.” george stated matter-of-factly. “now you two keep quiet down here. keep an eye on ‘em, sweetiepie.” he looked over to the girl before heading upstairs.

  “fuck, i’m so happy you’re alive, baby! i heard those gunshots go off and i was so scared i was gonna lose you! are you okay?” jules blurted out, trying to turn towards you. 

  “it hurts so fucking bad, but i’m okay.” you panted, breathing labored. you wriggled your arms, pulling on the cuffs frustratingly. 

  “can you pick it?” jules asks hopefully. your heavy eyes darted around the basement, searching for something in arm’s reach small enough to fit in the keyhole. 

  “i don’t have anything to pick it with.” you huffed, leaning your head back against the pole as tears of frustration brimmed your eyes. “shit!”

you peeled your eyes open to look around the room once more, eyes landing on sweetiepie as she stared back at you in fascination. you had had enough of this little girl; she was the reason you were in this whole mess. if she just would’ve fucking cooperated, the three of you could be outta here and on the route to florida. “oh, i’m so glad you’re here, i didn’t get the chance to say fuck you!”

jules nudged you with her elbow, as if to discourage you from swearing at the child. “leave her alone, she feels bad. she didn’t know what she was doing.”

  “how the hell do you know? she talked?” you asked in confusion at her statement. 

  “i don’t know, i just do.” jules shrugged. sweetiepie had resumed playing with her toys once more, the little princess dolly riding away on the heroic stallion’s back. you sighed at the seemingly hopeless situation, letting your eyes fall shut. 

this was gonna be a long night. 

***************************

okay so an itty bitty change of plans: if this ended where it was originally supposed to, it would be really long and kinda unsatisfying (to me at least), so i’m splitting this into two chapters. 

which means that instead of a 5-part series, this will be 6 parts! it just makes more sense to me that way. 

anyway, i hope you guys enjoy!! i really had fun writing this part!

tags: @emmyrosee​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​​ @willyourecognisemee​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass​

[elven-oracle]

under the rose: part 5|th

moodboard courtesy of @mcuspidey 

SUMMARY: Would you do anything for the person you love?

Would you do anything for the person you lust?

PAIRING: Agent!Tom Holland x Agent!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

sub rosa: adjective and adverb. formal. happening or done in secret. directly translated from latin: “under the rose.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This will be the final chapter of Under the Rose! I’m so thrilled to have finished this story and that so many people enjoyed it. Thank you for your continuous support. If you want to find me, I’ll be writing my ongoing series “The Siren!”

Part 5: Bullet Straight Through My Brain

Everything was different when you returned to the evil lair. A certain special night would change your outlook on this mission for its remainder, but that wasn’t the only dissonance that rattled the metal walls. There was a certain way that the gang was looking at you that had you on edge. You ignored it for the time being, but each glare buried itself in your skin like a bullet. 

While watching that afternoon’s football game, you sat sideways in your chair with your feet sitting in Tom’s lap, his arms loosely lounging atop your shins. Every so often he would run his rough hands over the smooth skin of your legs, and at one point he even removed your shoes to massage your feet. It was comforting, especially in the midst of men who seemed as if they wanted to harm you at any given second. 

Boss was in his office, and he hadn’t shown any sign of coming out to join the others. When the cold stares got too much, you decided to busy yourself and hopefully get the tiniest amount of intel. For the past three weeks, you had been flirting with each of the men without any qualms, but as you approached the door to knock, you felt yourself turn back to Tom, wishing that you could apologize before being let in. His beautiful, deep brown eyes looked sad but knowing. He couldn’t blame you, the agency had told you to do whatever it took.

He was frowning when you entered into his space. You hadn’t seen the room before. There were no security cameras to hack into, and you hadn’t coughed up the bravery to try and enter before today. It was funny how fear of the other men had brought you face to face with the man that worried you the most. 

“Can I help you, Miss Rose?”

You smiled, devilishly, tossing your faux hair behind you and sitting down on a chair across from his desk. He was typing furiously on his desktop computer, and you would give anything to lean over and take a look at what it was. 

That would come later. For now, you needed to wear him out.

“I think you can, Mr. Bossman,” you still hated the way that the New Jersey accent sounded. You brought your voice to a higher pitch when you spoke with it, and if you were somebody else, you would have been annoyed with it.

He stopped typing, “How so, dear?” his chin was spotted with scruff, and he removed the sunglasses that shaded his eyes, revealing a set of baby blues that you had only just realized that this was your first time seeing. 

Standing, you circled around the right side of the desk, sitting on it in front of him, “It was just...getting a little boring. Sports have never really been my thing.” 

You leaned over, resting your elbow on your leg and your chin in your hand. Your low-cut shirt was revealing everything that you did and didn’t want the man to see. You were disgusted with yourself, but this had been the plan from the start. Men like Boss revealed the most when they were being seduced. Tom’s sad eyes were at the forefront of your mind, but you couldn’t stop now. This had been the plan from the start. 

Boss smiled, pleased with the situation, and rolled his chair closer to his desk to where you were sitting, “I see.”

You had had plenty of meaningless kisses in your lifetime, especially when you were in high school. You had gone on numerous dates solely for the promise of a free meal. Boss’s lips on yours was the least meaningful interaction that you had ever encounter. His intention was full of sexual drive, while yours was just another part of the job. It was not Y/N who was cheating, it was Rose, and you needed to keep that distinction for your own sanity. 

His hands were on your body, and you were separating yourself from the situation, viewing yourself as an outside source looking in. This wasn’t you, it was someone else. Eyes squeezed shut, too much fear to open them. You had gone from an exhilarating sexual experience to one that you knew you would want to forget as soon as it was over. 

As he kissed your neck, as unwanted chills spilled down your spine, you took the opportunity to peak at the computer screen that thankfully hadn’t fallen asleep. You winced when you felt his teeth, knowing that his mark would be visible, but you squinted as he continued, attempting to see a name, a location, anything. 

He was on your collarbone now, and you were memorizing an address that was labeled “Secondary Pickup Location.” 

“What are you…” Boss had stopped, noticing your inactivity, but when your attention snapped back to him, it was too late. You had been caught focusing on the wrong thing. His eyes turned dark, the blue in them suddenly no longer charming, but terrifying. You were panicking now, ashamed of your stupidity. You could have waited. You could have done the deed and let him sleep. This was it. Mission blown. Cover destroyed.

Only your cover, though. Tom was still out there, unaware, and you weren’t going to let that change. He was smart, if Boss killed you in his office, he wouldn’t give himself up. He would wait until the day was done, and then report you killed in action. He may care about you, but you would do the same if you were him.

And you trusted him. You had to trust him. 

It was almost mystical, the way everything had changed. You had never seen yourself trusting Tom Holland. It took being put in this life-or-death scenario to come to the conclusion that trust was essential to this mission. If none of this had happened, you might have already gotten yourselves killed a lot sooner.

Your mind wandered because it hadn’t accepted your fate.

“A nark. You’re a fucking nark,” he lunged for you, but you rolled out of his grip and took a swing to his jaw, making contact, feeling both the skin on his face and the skin on your knuckle break. You had a ring on, but that only did so much. 

“Oh yeah. Definitely a fucking undercover cop. I should have known,” this time he was faster than you expected a man of his size to be, and he caught a clump of your wig in his fist. He had gone to yank your actual hair, but instead, this ripped both the wig and the pins keeping it in place off of your head, your natural hair color falling out of place and across your eyes. 

“Bitch. You really thought you could fool us, huh?” he kicked his heel into your nose, the crack echoing in your head, blood spilling down the front of your mouth. Ouch. 

“I had you fooled, bastard,” you tried to shake the dizziness away to stand, but this time he kicked your chest, knocking the wind out of you, and throwing you back another foot. 

He gripped your real hair, pulling his face to you, “Is he in on it. Don’t you fucking lie to me, either, I’ll know if you’re lying.” 

No, he really wouldn’t.

“He’s not! He’s not. He was a customer, he talked about his application for this job at the restaurant while we flirted. It was where we got the plan.” 

“Who?”

“NYPD. I work for the SVU.” 

Lies lies lies. He was eating up your lies like candy, thank goodness.

“Well then. Let’s see if he agrees.” 

Picked up by your hair, again, the door was kicked open, a surprise flurry of heads jerking to the direction of the sound. 

“Johnny, mate, it seems your little plaything has a problem.”

Tom’s eyes remained neutral, he looked to you, then to Boss, “She wasn’t coming onto you was she, sir? I promise she can be a bit of a flirt, but-”

“She’s a nark, Johnny.”

He feigned surprise, “What?”

“SVU cop. Sound familiar?”

“SV...what?”

“Special Victims Unit, trying to take us down. I thought you might be her partner but…” he tossed you down, forcing you to your hands and knees. You felt the impact of his foot on your stomach, but you had started to try and see all of the pain from the outside like you had when his hands had been begging for you. This was someone else’s pain, Rose’s pain, not your own. 

“It looks like your the one who’s as dumb as a doornail. She had you hook, line, and sinker, Johnny Bruno. How’s that make you feel?”

“Pissed off, Boss.” 

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Show this bitch who’s the doornail,” Tom stood and walked over to you, lifting you to your feet by your shirt, clutching your chin, inches away from having you in a chokehold, “We’ll be right back, boss.” 

He threw you into Boss’s office for good measure, but when the door shut, you felt yourself running into his arms and melting into tears. You had been trained for situations like this, but now face to face with your worst nightmare, it was hard to recollect your training.

“Y/N, stop crying. Hey, Y/N, it’s okay,” there were strokes on your back, but they weren’t doing anything to stop the heaving sobs, the fear, your inevitable fate.

“Tom. I’m done. Stay in this. Take care of your next partner. Okay?”

“Y/N, we can get you out of this, I’m sure the agency has already sent backup-”

“This isn’t the police, Tom. They won’t compromise the mission to save my life. Don’t you remember everything we were briefed on?” 

He cursed. 

“Punch me, in the face. I can’t go back looking the same.” 

“I’m not going to-”

“Yes, you are. Fucking punch me in the face, Tom.” 

Impact, white, a sea of stars, and when you went to open your eyes, only one would open. He had caused it to swell shut, and while it wasn’t the most pleasant feeling, it was precisely what needed to happen, but it would menial compared to what was next. 

“Tom, look at me,” you had stopped crying now, your training was starting to reinstate itself, and you did everything possible to clear your head. You took his face in your hands, wiping a short tear off his cheek, “it has to be you.”  

“What?”

“You have to do it. It will keep your cover.”

“No!” he pulled you off him, looking insulted by your statement, “Y/N, we don’t kill our own.” 

“Tom!” you wanted to yell, but his safety was too much at risk, so you stuck to a harsh whisper, “Please. Don’t let them take the most valuable thing I have from me. I don’t want it to be them. Insist on it being you. Please.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

With another hug and a kiss on the forehead, he cursed again, then shoved you back out for the rest of the boys to see, each of them looking pleased with his work. You took a few aching steps towards them, before buckling, letting your knees drop to the floor. There was no spot on you that didn’t hurt, but fortunately, that wouldn’t last too long.

“Execution style, nice choice, Narky,” Hardy approached you, then spat in your face, you wiped your eyes, disgusted, and spat right back at him, which only gained you a kick in the head.

Boss had his gun to your head as soon as you sat back up on your knees, “Ready for lights out?” 

Silence. You waited. He had to. Goddamnit, he had to.

“Boss, let me.” 

Finally.

“Bruno? Not going to lie, not what I expected. You ever kill someone before?”

He didn’t say anything as he pulled the gun from Boss’s hand, giving him a dark look, then refocusing it on you.

“I love you, Johnny.” 

“Don’t say another word to me.” 

“My lies were only for your own good.”

“I’m not a fan of games, Nark.” 

He was speaking to you, in code. Your final conversation.

“I know you aren’t,” you spoke softly.

The gun was pressed into your temple now, Tom standing tall above you. Time was slowing, and all you saw was everything flashing ahead of you. The glass breaking in your childhood home. Then, going to the hospital for a detox you hadn’t known you needed, a result of the meth lingering in that same childhood home. There you were, arresting the Magic Man, signing your contract with the agency, being assigned to work with Tom Holland, something you had dreaded at the time. You saw your reflection in the mirror after trying on that red wig, Tom’s complaints about letting his hair fall naturally, the daily drives to the warehouse.

Your one and only night together, the fact that he wanted to see you again. 

Did he want to, or were you just another woman for his repertoire? You would never know the answer no matter how much you craved it. The question that had been plaguing you since you started this mission. You had countlessly proved yourself to lay your life on the line for him. At this point, you would practically do anything for him. Now, you were even willing to die for him. 

Was Tom Holland a good man?

Yes, I would die for you baby, but would you do the same?

.

UNDER THE ROSE

by SpideyPeach

.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

M A S T E R L I S T

T A G L I S T

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